I don't know what led me here ...
I remember being drawn to this massive light coming from a door guarding the house of God. As if the whole city had conspired into dimming its lights, just so this church, at this moment, would catch my eye.
I remember walking through it. Familiar looks on unfamiliar faces tried to find my eyes, but I just fled to the sympathy of the tiles from the floor carrying my weight, while walking to the third row. There was one seat left between an old man who was silently praying and a middle-aged insecure woman who seemed to believe that she could hide behind a constant smile. I consider myself a good person, so I held up her illusion, gave her a smile and sat down on the third seat in the third row.
I remember that only a few minutes later, the ceremony started. There was lots of singing, group praying and preaching. None really appealed to me. Singing has never been my strong suit, that's why I'm a firm believer of only singing in the shower or when I'm alone in the car. Group praying always reminds me of a secret sect that slowly robs you of your own voice and preaching ... let's just say the words never stuck.
At the end of the ceremony, though, the priest stepped up to the microphone for a final announcement. The tone of his voice suddenly made me feel uneasy and his words glued me to my chair as he uttered them looking straight at me: "For those willing, I will be at this side of the church taking confessions." Could he have really been talking to me? The curiosity of my ego just had to find out.
And here I am, sitting eye to eye with a priest.
"Maybe it's easier if you start talking about why you think you had to come over here. Anything you want to say, anything at all, God will absolve you from it and it will no longer be your burden to carry."
Although I know it would be for many, my actions have never been a burden to me. I do like, however, how the words "God will absolve you" keep echoing in my head. My ego begs me not to walk away from the one on one attention it's getting right now, so I decide to stay in the conversation.
"I might have hurt some people in the past."
"Yes ...", the priest whispers with a voice hungry for more.
"And I probably told some lies.", I try to conclude.
The priest smiles for a moment as if he can look through me eyes, right down to my soul and in that moment, I feel connected with him through the words he leaves unspoken.
He stands up, places his hands on my head and starts to whisper a prayer. While he takes his seat again, he says "Now take this candle, place it at the altar and give thanks. Have faith that all is forgiven and you can start with a clean slate."
I give him a graceful nod, take the candle and make my way to the altar. What should I give thanks for? Suddenly, I hear the sirens outside the church. The intensity of the confession must have blocked them out, since they don't sound like they're just getting here.
Now, I remember what led me here ...
