The Confession

by Jeanette Muscella

  With a heavy heart, I walked away from the church. I continue to avoid my family. I can’t face them. I can’t face…her. I will have to live with this memory for the remainder of my miserable fucking life. I know of only one way to atone for my sin. I know this will change my life. Can I be happy as a priest? I have no choice. I must leave.

  My parents will never understand my decision to become a priest. They are a religious family, however; my father expects me to marry and have a family of my own. That will never happen now, and I have to find a way to live with myself. Acting like the coward that I am, I write a letter to my parents rather than talking to them face to face.

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  “I know I have been absent these past few weeks, and I apologize if it caused you to worry. I have been thinking about the sorry state of my life. I have prayed for guidance, and God has answered my prayers. I am leaving home in an attempt to start a new life. I’m not happy with my life, and as you have probably seen, my drinking and other vices have clouded my judgment. I’m sorry that I do not have the courage to face you. By the time you read this letter, I will be gone from your lives. I have done something that causes me great distress. I hurt someone that I love, and I hate myself. I can’t look at her without screaming. I don’t like who I have become. Jealousy and bitterness have consumed my soul. I will have to live with this memory until I die. I feel like dying now. I loved her, and it destroyed me when she married him. I was drunk and on cocaine and I drugged her wine and had sex with her. The drug I used is supposed to prevent her from remembering what happened that night. How could I do that to her? I have no other choice but to leave. Please, do not try to find me.”

  I am sorry…John

  I sneak into their house like a thief, and leave the letter on the kitchen table. I know my father will get up in the middle of the night for a cup of tea.

  His father found the letter, read it, and then went upstairs to wake up his wife. “Honey, wake up. I found a letter on the kitchen table from John. He raped someone. He drugged her and raped her.”

  “What did you say? John raped someone. How could he tell us something like this in a letter?”

  “I don’t know honey. What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting dressed. We need to go to the police. We have to file a criminal report.”

  John’s father shook his head. “What do we tell the police? Our son raped someone, and we don’t know her name. We also don’t know where he is. It’s pointless reporting this without proof.”

  She cried. “How could our son do something like this?”

  “I don’t know honey, but if he ever shows his face in this house, I will kill him.”

  “We still have to file a report. He committed a crime, and if the girl should someday remember, we need proof that we reported what he did to her.”

  The next morning, John’s father made a few copies of the letter, then drove over to District 24 station and asked to speak to someone from the sex crime unit. Detective Matthew Denton was the officer on duty that day.

  “Sir, the desk officer informed me that you want to report a rape. Who is the victim?”

  “I don’t know the victim. That’s the problem. My son left this letter for me before he left town. I have no idea where he is, but I want to have this on the record should he resurface.” He handed the letter to the detective.

  The detective read the letter and made several notes. “I am sure you are aware we have no official proof of a crime. You son was very smart in how he divulged this information. You do know that without a name, we cannot issue an arrest warrant. Was you son in a relationship at the time this letter was written?”

  “No. My son has been troubled this past year, and has pretty much kept to himself.”

  “The best I can do at this point in time is a search for recent assault crimes. Do you have a picture of your son?”

  He opened his wallet and retrieved a photo from a recent family vacation. “This photo is about two years old, but he hasn’t changed much since then, except that his hair is longer.”

  “I’ll start a file. I want you to call me should your son contact you.”

  ***John***

  I step off the bus outside of St. Matthew’s Seminary and sit on the sidewalk. I have questioned my decision a hundred times since I left home and thought about walking away and disappearing from everyone’s life. I have no idea how long I sat on the sidewalk when a shadow cast itself over my body. When I look up, a priest stood before me.

  “Young man, my name is Father Joseph Randall. Are you not well my son? Are you in need of assistance?”

  I stood to face Father Randall. “No Father, I am not well, and I am in need of spiritual healing. I am an alcoholic and a drug addict. My life is a mess, and I have made the decision to walk away from that life and dedicate myself to Our Lord. Please, Father, help me.”

  My legs feel like rubber and I sink to the sidewalk. For the first time in my life, I cried. Father Randall sat next to me and held my hand while I cried like a baby.

  “Whatever is troubling you, we can help you. Let me help you.”

  His honest and sincere offer touched me deeply. “I hurt someone that I love, Father. I committed a crime. I used a drug and took advantage of the only person I have ever loved. She left me for someone else, and jealousy made me a bitter and vile person. The drugs are killing me, Father. I don’t like who I have become. Please help me heal my soul. I want to dedicate my life to Our Lord. I want to atone for my sin and help those less fortunate than myself.”

  “I want to ask you a question,” Father Randall whispered. “Is your decision to serve Our Lord based on guilt, or a genuine need to dedicate yourself as a servant of Our Lord? Please answer truthfully.”

  “Yes, Father. I want to dedicate my life to Our Lord. I want to change the direction of my life.” I have one chance to purge my body and soul of the evil that consumes me. With a new sense of resolve, I follow Father Randall into the seminary, and this is the first day of the beginning of my new life.

  “Have a seat John. I wish to talk to you.”

  I sit in front of Father Randall’s desk and I suddenly feel frightened for my life. Am I the right candidate for the priesthood? What will happen to me if he rejects me? I have nowhere to go. I take a deep breath, knowing my entire future is in jeopardy.

  “I want you to be honest with me John. The priesthood is more than a vocation; it is a calling. The Catholic Church believes that God speaks to some men and asks that they dedicate their lives to his service. What makes you believe this is the life for you?”

  “I want to be honest with you, I do, but I don’t know how to express what I feel. It’s an emptiness so deep within me; I’m scared that it will destroy me. I’ve always been a religious person, that is until I started drinking and using drugs. I don’t know how I got so far off track with my life. On some level, I want, no, I need to dedicate myself to a higher calling. I know I’m a mess, and I know it won’t be easy, but I want this Father. I want to be a better person. I want to change the course of my life. I’ve made a mess of my life, and I can’t live like this for another day, because if I do, it will destroy me.”

  “I don’t have any money. I don’t have a sponsor. I have nothing but my desire to change my life. I’ll work odd jobs if I need to. I’ll do whatever it takes to succeed. I need help Father, and I have nowhere to go. Please help me.”

  My nerves are about to snap. My future is in Father Randall’s hands. He’s sitting behind his desk staring at me. What does he see? Does he see a drug addict, or does he see a shred of potential in me. Please God, help me end the torture that is my life.

  “I hear sincerity in your voice John, and I will help you. There will be conditions on my help. I hope you understand that you have one chance to get this right. If you fail, I will have no choice but to expel you from the seminary. Here are my conditions.”

  “One: You must successfully complete detoxification. That will
not be easy for you John. I will contact the seminary’s onsite doctor. Once you have a complete examination, we will discuss what treatment will successfully get you through the detoxification.”

  “Two: At the appropriate time, I will enroll and sponsor your studies. You will be categorized as a Seminarian, and you will complete all of the necessary theological studies. Once you have completed your religious studies, you will be ordained a Transitional Diaconate. Prospective priests serve for roughly a year in the Diaconate and make promises of celibacy and obedience to his Bishop at this stage. The process takes, at least, five years. Once you are ordained a priest, you will be assigned to your parish.”

  “Three: The Church will absorb most of the expense of your education, on the condition that you maintain your grade level. You will also be required to work part-time, as long as it does not interfere with your studies. I will find a job for you. I will provide room for you here, with me, until you are ordained.”

  “You will not have an easy life while you live here, but it will be challenging and rewarding. I am giving you a clean slate, John. What you do with it is entirely up to you. However, I will be required to document what we have discussed today, and it will be on your permanent record. Do you feel you have it in you to complete your studies?”

  “Do I have what it takes? I really don’t know, but I intend to prove myself to you Father. You are giving me the opportunity to change my life, to have a goal, to live. Up until now, I’ve been coasting through life. My parents are ambivalent towards me. I did what I wanted, and as you can see, the consequences are significant.”

  Father Randall opened the top drawer of his desk and retrieved a stack of paperwork. “Well, then we had better get started with your application. Welcome to St. Matthew’s Seminary John. I hope your stay here will be a rewarding one.”

  “I hope so too, Father. Thank you for this opportunity.”

  Chapter 2

  Present day: I have heard rumors about a possible transfer to another parish. As I sit outside Cardinal D’Antonio’s office, my mind races as I contemplate returning to my childhood church. I developed a habit years ago of twisting my rosary beads in my hands when I feel apprehensive. I have been reliving memories buried long ago, and I am troubled. I know that one day I may have to face my past. For the past nineteen years, I have avoided my family. I live a solitary life, and prefer to keep it that way.

  “Father Brady, the Cardinal will see you now.”

  Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I open the massive wooden door. Cardinal D’Antonio is an imposing man, well over six feet tall, with thick white hair, and a smile that could fill the church pews. I walk hesitantly towards the Cardinal, bow as a sign of respect, and kiss the Cardinal’s ring.

  “Please be seated Father Brady. It is wonderful seeing you again.”

  “Thank you, Cardinal D’Antonio. It is an honor to see you again.”

  Leaning forward to rest his arms on the ornate oak desk, The Cardinal opens the folder in front of him. “Archbishop Dougherty has approved your transfer to St. Peter’s Church. Father Mallard is not well, and they are in need of a replacement. You have served your parish well over the years Father, and we will be sorry to see you leave. Our young parishioners will miss your Sunday afternoon basketball games.”

  “They may miss me; however, my aching joints thank you. I fear I am not as young as I once was. They run circles around me, all the while laughing at me. I will miss them tremendously.”

  “And they will miss you, John. May I give you a farewell piece of advice?”

  “I would be honored, Cardinal D’Antonio.”

  “I know of the circumstances that brought you to the Church. I also know it was not easy for you to assimilate into your new life as a priest. I have watched you over the years, and I am proud of you. Take comfort in the fact that you have atoned for past sins. You are a respected member of the Church.”

  I cringe as old memories surfaced. “Yes Cardinal, it was difficult for me. My life was troubled, and while I was relieved to be away from everyone, I was not confident I would be a good priest. My withdraw from drugs and alcohol kept me in constant turmoil, and I thought many times of leaving everything behind and just running as far as I could to escape the mess I had made of my life.”

  “My mentor at the time, Father Randall, helped me tremendously. He sat with me and guided me to the path that was to become my new life. Once the withdraw symptoms disappeared, I could think clearly, and soon realized that my soul felt different. I started focusing on the teachings of the Church, and I had a sense of peace and purpose that I never had in my entire life.”

  “When I think back to those days, I often wonder what would have become of my life had I not chose to leave. I was on a path of destruction and could not see it. I am grateful having this second chance in life. I know it will be challenging seeing my family after so many years. I have had no contact with them and will admit that I am nervous returning to my home parish.”

  I rise from my seat and kneel before The Cardinal to receive his blessing. “Go in peace Father Brady.”

  The flight to Philadelphia took longer than expected. The closer I come to the city, the more apprehensive I become. Leaving the way I did with no contact for almost twenty years was cowardly, however; my decision to remain distant was the only option available to me at the time. My soul feels a sense of dread. The ghosts of the past have a way of resurfacing. I pray that will not happen.

  As the plane taxied to the runway, I close my eyes and take a deep cleansing breath. The ghosts of the past must stay buried. When the taxi pulls up outside the rectory, I smile as a flood of memories assault me. I remember my years as an altar boy. I also remember stealing some of the altar wine. As punishment, my friend Pete and I had to clean and wax every pew in the church during our summer vacation.

  It feels strange being back in my childhood neighborhood. The houses looked aged and worn, and there are no children outside playing. I have a lot of work to do in this parish. Where do I start? How can I make a difference in the lives of my new parishioners? I push these thoughts aside and when I step into the rectory, a familiar scent, cigar smoke, drifts towards me. Smiling, I inhale the sweet scent.

  A booming voice, which seemed to come from out of nowhere, startles me. “Well, look who we have here, my favorite church cleaner, John Brady. Father Brady, I am happy to see you again.”

  Clasping Father O’Connell’s hand, I said, “As soon as I stepped through the doorway, I knew you were here. You still smoke those nasty cigars.”

  Father O’Connell laughed. “That’s right, and I still eat too much. Are you well John?”

  “Yes Father, I am well. It is good to be home again.”

  “Yes, it is Father Brady. We are in need of a young priest with fresh ideas. Cardinal D’Antonio speaks kindly of you.”

  “I am honored he thinks I am worthy of this position. May I see Father Mallard? I wish to introduce myself.”

  “Follow me. Father Mallard is anxious to meet you.” At the end of the day, I have a better understanding of the challenges I will face with this new parish.

  The following Sunday, everyone gathered for their weekly breakfast before Sunday mass. Colin enjoyed this time with his wife, children, and grandchildren. “So, what are we doing after mass today?”

  Lydia rolled her eyes. “What do we always do on Sunday Dad? Adam watches the History Channel, Bobby plays football, and Gail is on the computer all day. As for me, I’m going shopping with Mom.”

  Colin looked at Maggie. “You never told me you were going shopping. What am I going to do today?”

  Adam laughed. “I suppose I could skip watching TV. What do you want to do today, Dad?”

  Colin thought for a moment. “Well, I would like to play pool and have a few beers with my son.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. Pool and beer, I like it!”

  On the way to church, they talked about the new priest who would soon
replace Father Mallard. As they approached the church, Colin blinked several times as if he saw a ghost. Standing in front of the church was his son, the priest. Everyone stopped talking and stared blankly at Father John Brady.

  I see my family approach me and I am afraid. My father looks angry, and rightly so. I push back my fear and walk towards my parents. As I approach my mother, I open my arms. “Hello Mother, I am happy to see you again.” My mom holds me for several seconds. The sensation feels odd, and I try not to tense in her arms.

  “Oh John, how are you? How long have you been a priest? I cannot believe this! Why didn’t you write to us?”

  “I believe you know the reasons, Mother. Now is not the time to discuss this.”

  Looking past my mother, I acknowledge my father. “Father, how are you?” His face remains impassive, and he refuses my outstretched hand. The snub hurts, even after all these years. He continues staring at me, refusing to acknowledge my question. I understand his animosity, and I rein in my emotions. I will not air the family laundry in public. Adam and Lydia watch the dynamics between the three of us with a sense of trepidation.

  Adam walks up to me and shakes my hand. “It’s good to see you, John. You remember Lydia. And these two are our children, Gail, and Bobby.”

  I acknowledge Adam’s children and excuse myself. “Adam, would you please escort everyone into the church? I need to greet a few parishioners before mass begins.” I walk away from my family on shaky legs and into the crowd of people standing in front of the church. My cassock hides the fact that my entire body is trembling. I find solace once again by fingering my rosary beads.

  As Adam proceeded into the church, he turned to his father. “Are you coming in with us?”