Dose crap-priests, doe…
By Hilary White
Hey, remember when I said that Jorge’s stupid and dangerous remark that people could just kind of come into the confessional and mutely think or grunt their confessions and all the priest had to do would be to wave his magic priest-hand and say the words and it’s all done, was going to be snapped up by a lot of priests who hate hearing confessions/don’t give a shit about souls?
This is what I was talking about.
True story from a friend in Canada. In Ontario.
_I took my wretched son and wretched self to confession today at the advertised time before Mass. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. The priest didn’t show up. I went and found him. No, he wouldn’t be hearing confessions today at the time his bulletin and website says. No, not after mass either. Tomorrow.
Now never mind that there was a line up of people who had, say, used up their lunch breaks, or driven here, or paid bus or taxi fare. That’s okay. That’s just being a dick in natural terms, but here’s where it crossed into the eternal. There was one chap there who had asked me if this was the place where “they celebrate the sacrament of reconciliation”.
He didn’t sound to me like he confesses regularly.
I went back and told him what the priest had told me, and said he should come back tomorrow.
I hope he does come back. If he doesn’t, that priest is so fucked, before the awesome tribunal of Christ.
My friend adds, Please say a prayer that the guy will in fact come back tomorrow. And I would add, please say another one that that worthless ordained meatsack doesn’t get hit by a bus before he has a miraculous conversion.
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