Houston

What happened to Catholics going to confession? What happened to beliefs about sin?

What happened to Catholics going to confession? What happened to beliefs about sin?

In the movies, the penitent enters a confession booth, kneels, and whispers to a priest behind a lattice screen: "Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

This drama was, for centuries, at the center of Catholic life. But in recent decades, the number of Americans who go to confession has plunged to a shocking degree that church leaders have struggled to explain.

But Father David Michael Moses knows what happened during Holy Week this year, when he spent 65 hours "in the box" at his home parish, Christ the Good Shepherd in Spring, Texas, and at St. Joseph near downtown Houston. In all, heard 1167 confessions.

"We are talking about a lot of sin, and lots of grace," he said. "It's about offering people help and hope. In the end, Jesus wins all the battles that people bring with them into confession. That's what confession is all about."

The 29-year-old priest began hearing confessions at 6 a.m. on April 4, as Catholics made their way to nearby office towers. He continued until midnight, with a parish volunteer noting there were 100 people in line at 8 p.m. Another priest arrived two hours later, and everyone had an opportunity for the Sacrament of Penance.

"You keep thinking: 'Do I go slow and just do my best? Do I try to speed things up?' What you can't do is let anyone feel that they were turned away," said Father Moses, a Houston native who is the son of a Baptist mother and Lutheran father who converted to Catholicism.

Hearing confessions "is hard. It's exhausting. But there is nothing in the world that I would rather be doing, right now. This is what it means to be a priest. This is about salvation and the care of souls."

As recently as the 1950s and 1960s, researchers said about 80% of American Catholics went to confession at least once a year. A clear majority said the went once a month.

Then the numbers began falling -- sharply.

Concerning the coronavirus crisis and these Darwinian days in faith-based higher education

Concerning the coronavirus crisis and these Darwinian days in faith-based higher education

Every week or so, John Mark Reynolds does something that presidents of academic institutions rarely do -- he cleans his office at Saint Constantine School.

This isn't a symbolic gesture in an age of ominous trends, and now a global pandemic, that threaten private education. Reynolds always takes his turn -- with other members of his team -- cleaning administration offices at this classical school in Houston.

"We have no administrators who are just administrators. Everyone teaches. Everyone shares many of the jobs that need to get done," said Reynolds, reached at his "sheltering in place" home office. "We have a maintenance team, but we all help out. The first lady and I plan to water some plants later today. …

"We call this the economy of small."

Saint Constantine is a K-16 Orthodox Christian school, which means it offers four years of college credits. College tuition is $9,000 per year.

"Our whole model was created to survive the collapse of liberal arts education, while striving to preserve the core of liberal arts education through an Oxford-style tutorial system," said Reynolds. "This pandemic is only exposing the weaknesses of what was already a business model fraught with peril."

College educators have long known that painful challenges were coming in 2025, due to falling birth rates and the end of high millennial-generation enrollments.

Now, the coronavirus crisis is forcing students and parents to face troubling realities. A study by McKinsey & Company researchers noted: "Hunkering down at home with a laptop … is a world away from the rich on-campus life that existed in February."

What happens next? The study noted: "In the virus-recurrence and pandemic-escalation scenarios, higher-education institutions could see much less predictable yield rates (the percentage of those admitted who attend) if would-be first-year students decide to take a gap year or attend somewhere closer to home (and less costly) because of the expectation of longer-term financial challenges for their families."

This could crush some schools. In a report entitled "Dawn of the Dead," Forbes found 675 private colleges it labeled "so-called tuition-dependent schools -- meaning they squeak by year-after-year, often losing money or eating into their dwindling endowments."