Cliffs notes for confession

It's time for the Catholic bishops to go to confession.

It's time for all of the Catholic priests to go to confession.

Actually, with Easter a few weeks away, this is a time when all Catholics are supposed to go to confession.

But most of America's 65 million Catholics no longer know or no longer care that their church requires them to go to confession at least once a year in order to receive Holy Communion. Confession is especially important during this season of Lent.

If bishops and priests want Catholics to go to confession, they must demonstrate that the Sacrament of Penance still matters, said Msgr. James Moroney, who leads the U.S. bishops' liturgy office. The shepherds could, for example, start leading public rites that end with opportunities for private confession – including their own.

"Our bishops and our priests have to preach the practice of penance," he said. "But they are also have to participate in the practice of penance. Then they have to make the practice of penance available to their people in a variety of ways. ...

"We know that our people need this. Everybody in our culture is bleeding from the eyes. Everybody has pain they need to get rid of and wounds that need to be healed. Well, we know how to do that. We have the tools and we need to use them."

Thus, the U.S. liturgy office has published a new brochure to teach Catholics how to do something that once was as familiar as breathing – confess their sins to a priest. The back page is perforated, so penitents can tear off an eight-step "How to Go to Confession" list and carry it with them.

Catholics used to line up for confession on Saturdays. But by the mid-1970s, surveys found that monthly confession among American Catholics had fallen from 38 to 17 percent in a decade, while those who never or rarely went rose from 18 to 38 percent. In the mid-1980s, a University of Notre Dame study found that 26 percent of active, "core Catholics" never went to confession and another 35 percent went once a year.

It's hard to know how many confessions priests hear these days, said Moroney. Confession is a private matter. No one likes to discuss statistics.

But bishops and priests know that more Catholics need to go to confession. They know "The Catechism of the Catholic Church" still teaches "having attained the age of discretion, each of the faithful is bound by an obligation faithfully to confess serious sins at least once a year."

This may come as news to millions of Catholics.

"This Easter will mark my 10th year as a Catholic," noted one convert, in an online discussion. "I have very rarely missed Sunday mass or a holy day of obligation. Sometimes I've even gone to daily mass. Point is, I've heard well over 500 sermons. Not once – not once – do I recall having heard confession mentioned. ... For most American Catholics today, confession is almost as rare and exotic a devotional practice as donning a hair shirt."

Sadly, these words ring true, said Moroney. Many priests feel overwhelmed and have fallen silent. Many doubt their parishioners will accept the need for confession. But clergy must grasp that there is no shortage of sin and guilt in the pews. The problem is that Catholics are "surrounded 24/7 by a culture that teaches them to either deny their pain or to wallow in it as victims," he said.

Someone must take the time – Sunday after Sunday – to remind Catholics of the teachings of their church. Silence will not work.

"In some of our parishes there are enormous numbers of people who are going to confession. ... Then there are many parishes where we're talking about four or five people on a typical Saturday afternoon," said Moroney.

"So what's the difference? It's like that movie says, 'If you build it, they will come.' If priests constantly preach this and if they offer a variety of times and ways for people to celebrate the sacrament, then you're going to see people come to confession. But you have to give people a chance. You have to help them get over their fears."

Faith, freedom, free pornography

Attention all families and friends preparing to send "care packages" to U.S. soldiers: Not all gifts are created equal on the Arabian Peninsula.

Powered-drink mixes, beef jerky, pretzels and chewing gum are fine, say the veterans at www.West-Point.org. Chocolate will melt. Fly swatters, footballs, lip balm, sun-block lotion, foot powder and other logical items will be appreciated.

Do not send pork or tobacco. Do not send religious materials. And do not send pornography. In other words, send nothing that will bring grief – or danger – to soldiers in the lands surrounding Mecca.

Thus, scores of religious leaders got upset when they heard about a DirectLink Media Group offer to send pornographic videotapes and DVDs to U.S. soldiers and veterans anywhere, with the soldiers paying shipping and handling charges.

The pornographer's press release was blunt. The company merely wants to help defend democracy, free speech and the American way.

"These young men and women are out there fighting for our freedom," said Aaron Gordon, president of FreePornForOurTroops.com. "They deserve any support we can give. ... If you have ever honored our country, in the past or in the present, by risking your life to defend our freedom and our way of life, we want to say thank you with free adult products."

Cultural conservatives were outraged. A Focus on the Family report, for example, noted that a wave of free pornography would be especially demeaning to women who serve alongside men in today's armed services.

"This is an abominable marketing trick by pornographers who care nothing about our troops," added Jan LaRue of Concerned Women of America. Plus, these "Muslim countries generally don't allow anything like this."

On one level, this is merely another firefight in the culture wars that have followed the sexual revolution.

It's a familiar story. Someone on the cultural left does something outrageous. The usual suspects on the cultural right respond with sermons. A late-night comic or two turns this into punch lines about whacko preachers. Journalists yawn.

But this time, at least one pastor did something unusual. The Rev. Martin Drummond of Miami Shores (Fla.) Christian Church took the time to write the pornographer a sincere, low-key appeal to stop his marketing blitz. There was more to this issue than another moralistic minister pitching a fit, he said.

After all, Osama bin Laden and his disciples have issued stacks of fatwas blaming the United States for spreading filth and immorality worldwide. This could be a matter of life and death for troops near the Persian Gulf.

"Do you realize," wrote Drummond, "that one of the reasons the radical Islamic movement so dislikes America is because of its tolerance of pornography? What kind of support will our troops find in Middle Eastern countries if the soldiers are seen as porn-starved trigger jockeys? Your effort will give new life to the allegation that we are not a nation of character, but instead of carnal compromise."

Gordon has not responded to interview requests about his Free Porn For Our Troops campaign. But he did reply to Drummond's email.

"With all due respect," he said, "if I were to change anything I did because the 'radical Islamic movement' does not approve of it, then I would have to forgo most of my beliefs in a free society, my way of life in a free society, and together, we would be forgoing the freedom of people who live in this society."

This argument does carry some weight with Drummond, who is both a pastor and a working journalist with two decades of experience reporting for secular newspapers. Anyone who has taken a class in media law and ethics knows that - here in the safety of America - Gordon has a right to outrage the faithful to his heart's content.

"But this has to be a classic case of someone crying 'Fire!' in a crowded theater," said Drummond. "Sometimes, enough is enough. This kind of stunt is not going to help our troops. This is just going to pour gasoline on the flames of hatred that they already face over there. ...

"Sure, we have freedom of speech. But sometimes we have to restrain ourselves, if, by exercising our freedoms, we can get other people hurt."

Postmodern Celtic Baptists

The first thing people do after entering the quiet sanctuary is pause at a table to light prayer candles for friends and loved ones, the tiny flames adding to the glow of nearby candle trees.

The ministers wear oat-colored, hooded robes tied at the waist with ropes and guide their flock through ancient prayers, a litany of confession and silent meditations marked by a series of bells. Hymns are accompanied by an ensemble that includes fiddle, acoustic guitar, wind chimes, pennywhistles, a Bodhran and even bagpipes.

This coming Sunday is the day before the feast of St. Patrick.

Thus, worshippers at Rivermont Avenue Baptist Church will sing the great prayer of Ireland's missionary bishop: "Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me. ... I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, through a belief in the Threeness, through a confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation."

This is not your typical Southern Baptist service.

Nevertheless, this Celtic service is held every Sunday at this historic church in Lynchburg, Va. The goal is to use ancient rituals to touch postmodern souls.

"Postmodern people – like Baptists in general – like to take some of the old and mix it up with some of the new and then put it all together. We're comfortable with the unusual juxtapositions that may occur when you do that," said Karen Swallow Prior, who selects and reads many of the rite's Celtic prayers. She is an English professor at nearby Liberty University.

"We don't think that what we're doing is getting back to the ancient ways. We think that we're using elements of the past in ways that make sense to people who are alive today. The goal is to create something new."

In the lingo of Southern Baptist life, Rivermont is known as a "moderate," or even progressive, congregation. In addition to the Celtic service, it also offers the plugged-in, energetic contemporary worship common in "seeker-friendly" congregations across America. The bottom line: Different kinds of people worship in different ways.

The contemporary service is larger and the pews are filled with Baby Boomers who have become the established, middle-aged core of the congregation. For them, pop praise choruses and a chatty atmosphere have become normal. What was once "modern" is now strangely "traditional."

Meanwhile, said Prior, the Celtic service is attracting a unique blend of young adults, who are drawn by its beauty and mysticism, and the elderly, who appreciate peace and quiet. Church leaders refer to this as a gathering of the "pre-moderns and the postmoderns." What was once "traditional" is now strangely "innovative."

"How will the postmodern church worship?", asked Chad Hall of the Baptist State Convention of North Carolina, writing at www.coolchurches.com. "One thing we know about postmoderns is that they are extremely experiential. That is, they learn, grow, develop and commit based on their own experience with truth not according to someone else's encounter or someone else's retelling of an encounter."

Postmodern believers want to use all of their senses, stressed Hall. They want smells and bells. They want to see icons and statues, as well as drama and digital clips from movies. They look for God in nature, as well as scripture. They want to encounter God, not mere words about God.

But this doesn't mean they want to change their beliefs. The faithful at Rivermont Avenue remain steadfastly Baptist, said music minister Wayne Bulson. While they use elements of ancient liturgy, they believe that the Irish Bannock bread is still bread and the grape juice is still grape juice. They are embracing symbols, not sacraments.

"People want a sense of the ancient, but they still want something that they feel is appropriate to their lives, today," said Bulson. "I mean, we're still Baptists. We're not Catholic or Orthodox or anything else. ... We're not pushing for Baptist monasteries. What we're trying to do is find out what will be meaningful to our people, what will help them experience God in their lives.

"We're not proud. We're willing to borrow things from all kinds of traditions, as long as they work for us."

(Pro) Life after Scheidler

There was a time in the late 1980s when Georgette Forney didn't want to turn on the evening news because she kept seeing the same frightening scenes over and over.

Waves of Operation Rescue activists were doing sit-ins at abortion facilities, often handcuffing themselves to the doors while others collapsed nearby chanting, singing, praying and reading scripture. Then police would drag everyone off to jail. This cycle of civil disobedience kept repeating itself at other clinics, in other towns, in other states.

"I remember thinking, 'They're all nut cases,' " said Forney. "Those tactics were so intimidating to me as a woman and, especially, as a woman who had had an abortion. ... I wanted to stay as far away from that extreme anti-abortion stuff as I possibly could. It was all dangerous, as far as I was concerned."

Then her spiritual walls began to collapse. She had a daughter, which reminded her again of the daughter lost in her 1976 abortion. Eventually Forney had a soul-shaking experience of grief, reconciliation and healing. By the late '90s she was a leader in the National Organization of Episcopalians for Life. But she still could not embrace the tactics of the Operation Rescue era.

Nevertheless, Forney was one of many who cheered after the U.S. Supreme Court's 8-1 decision that the federal Racketeer Influenced Corrupt Organizations Act could not be used against groups that protest at abortion facilities. While the cases – Scheidler v. NOW and Operation Rescue v. NOW – stirred up the usual combatants, the anti-abortion coalition also drew wide legal support from other activists who saw the importance of this legal precedent for all forms of protest. Among those showing support were People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, Greenpeace, the Seamless Garment Network, Citizens United for Alternatives to the Death Penalty and Pax Christi USA. Actor Martin Sheen and the activist priest Daniel Berrigan even signed on.

This decision may have closed the door on an era in which anyone who wanted to oppose abortion had to worry about being associated with illegal forms of protest.

Finally, an intimidating link to the past is gone, said Forney. The emphasis now is on finding ways to reach women before and after their abortions. In January, she helped lead a "Silent No More" campaign in 46 states built on the testimonies of women who have had abortions. They held quiet demonstrations at state capitols and other public places, holding black-and-white "I regret my abortion" signs.

"After 30 years, we have to try to teach our choir a new song," she said. "We can't keep using the same pro-life words and images that we've always used. We have to talk to the women and try to see things through their eyes. We have to let women know that they deserve something better than abortion."

Meanwhile, there are still legal issues to be resolved about the legal rights of those who still want to pray, preach and protest on public sidewalks, said Joe Scheidler, the activist whose Chicago-based Pro-Life Action League was caught up in the Operation Rescue-era legal wars.

After all, the 1994 Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act calls for sanctions against those who conduct "threatening" protests in or near the "safety zones" around abortion clinics. And after this Supreme Court decision, NOW President Kim Gandy vowed to see to it that "religious and political extremists do not resume their reign of terror at women's clinics. We are looking at every avenue, including the U.S.A. Patriot Act, in order to protect women, doctors and clinic staff from these ideological terrorists."

No one expects conflicts to cease near abortion facilities, said Scheidler. But the momentum is behind those willing to find ways to do sidewalk counseling, hold vigils and to distribute information – even coupons for free ultrasound tests – without inspiring fear or lawsuits.

Nevertheless, one person's free speech may be another's harassment.

"I don't know how often we've been outside Planned Parenthood saying the Rosary and then suddenly four squad cars roll up," said Scheidler. "The cops say, 'We got a call saying you have weapons.' So we hold up our Rosary beads. ... For some people, saying the Rosary can be a form of intimidation."