Why Fr. Z harasses you to GO TO CONFESSION!

You are going along… doodee doodee dooo… and you glimpse something in the corner of y-

BAM!

Watch to the end.  It is short.

These people had a close call.  It could have gone otherwise.

Friends, examine your consciences daily and go to confession regularly.

We are going to get God’s justice whether we want it or not.  But, while we are still alive, His mercy is for the asking.

You do not know at what moment you may be called by the Lord, the Just Judge, the King of Fearful Majesty, to account for your life.

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About Fr. John Zuhlsdorf

Fr. Z is the guy who runs this blog. o{]:¬)
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11 Responses to Why Fr. Z harasses you to GO TO CONFESSION!

  1. ldunne says:

    We are all in need of God’s merciful through Confession, both layman…and, cleric.

  2. RAve says:

    O, Father! So hard to watch without a sudden great sob for those of us who have lost a loved one suddenly in an accident. But a sob that is worthwhile. We know the hour – and we must live as if the hour is nigh. My loved one spent the morning of the day he died making a holy hour and then going to Mass and to work, and he had recently gone to Confession. And the day after he died the whole town was making the Portinuncula indulgence for his soul. Thank you for the reminder and all you do. He left a behind a prayer journal which has been published http://alexofavemaria.com/

    (Fr. Z, I understand if you delete the link, but I put it there in case you think it is ok.)

  3. RAve says:

    Woops: We know NOT the hour…

  4. RAve says:

    I just noticed the second entry at the link is about a song that is a meditation on confession!

  5. Nan says:

    For whatever reason, I was recently in an anonymous church basement with curtains and people whispering.

    Many people are praying for my sister, although she has no idea and probably wouldn’t approve. She isn’t interested in talking to a priest. We weren’t raised in a religious household so she doesn’t see the need.

  6. Hoover says:

    I once had a close call at the top of a mountain road ( “https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Knob_(Pennsylvania)” ) where there was a very tight curve in the road. It was raining and my car (without antilock brakes or traction control) fishtailed around the turn, I (over)corrected which resulted in a 360 degree spin and a stall out (manual transmission sports car). I ended up mere feet from a very high and very steep drop down the side. I sat for a minute in the car trembling, pulled out a rosary and prayed the whole way home. I have no doubt my guardian angel worked very had that day.

    May the Lord God in His mercy deliver us from an unprovided death.

  7. APX says:

    Hoover,

    I had a similar incident happen to me one winter while driving down a mountain in my parents’ car. They told me they switched the all-season tires for winter tires, which it turned out they didn’t. I was ever so slowly going around a curve in 2nd gear, but thought I was going a wee bit to fast for the next curve, so I shifted down into first, only to have the car do a full 360° with no guard rails on either side. Growing up in the prairies, mountain driving wasn’t part of Drivers’ Ed.

  8. Christ_opher says:

    Here’s mine, Our Parish Priest was visiting us in the morning and we decided to have lunch together, unfortunately we didn’t have much to eat so he went back to his house for provisions. Whilst he was away, we had a coat rack that fell onto a shelf with aerosols on it, one of the aerosols split and was leaking I was starting to clear the mess up when the aerosol ignited because it was leaking next to our gas boiler. Thankfully neither my wife or I was stood in the area where the fireball appeared, I asked my wife to grab our young daughter and exit the house with her, in the meantime the fire started to spread rapidly, I called out to Jesus and Saint Michael to help us and thankfully they did as I found a large pot for cooking mussels and started filling up whilst praying that the water could fill rapidly enough to extinguish the fire before the fire spread beyond being able to save the house or me. Thankfully God delivered and by the time the fire brigade turned up the only thing necessary for them to do was to check that everything had been put out and to administer first aid to my arms that were badly burn’t. My wife explained to me that she had tried ringing the fire brigade and they weren’t answering, thankfully our neighbour was in her garden and helped my wife and managed to contact the fire brigade. Our Priest could not believe what had happened by the time that he had returned as we had a fire engine and ambulance on our driveway when he returned. The firemen and the later the insurance rep could not believe that I had lived although the answer was obviously clear as you can’t enter our house without passing in front of Jesus on the cross on our front door, we also have rosaries in the car on full display so it is quite clear that we believe and it’s clearer that God listens.

  9. Last year I was in a bad car accident that left me hobbled. I was on my way to Kerry to see my aunt when a Frenchman turned into my path. Thanks be to God I was the only one injured but both cars were written off. He pleaded guilty in court and was fined €200. I had smashed the talus bone in my ankle and spent the next six months confined to my friary. I still need crutches to get around. It was the feast of St Anthony so I guess he was protecting me. So as Father says “go to confession”, you knowneither the day nor the hour!
    That said the video reminded me of a comment on Youtube: “Why did the Russians get into space first? Because there was no one for them to crash into!”

  10. Elizium23 says:

    I underwent at least two really horrific close calls in the Santa Cruz mountains, at a time when I was far from any of the sacraments and really obstinately persisting in a wretched state of constant grave sin.

    One time I was taking a shortcut through Los Gatos in the rain when my Acura Integra slid on the muddy road. I spun around a while and ended up inches from a sturdy tree. I was scared straight after that. But not for long. There was another time on Highway 17 in heavy fog when I mischievously caused a fender-bender that I was not directly involved in. And several times commuting to and from work when I was falling asleep at the wheel, at 70mph.

    I live a much more… prudent existence these days, but obviously, anything could happen. I thank our illustrious host for reminding us of the need for Confession. My pastor does the same for us and grants us generous times to avail ourselves of the opportunity. THANK YOU, FATHERS!!!

  11. hwriggles4 says:

    I thank priests for emphasizing the importance of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. My parish priest and the parochial vicar (who is a former Episcopal priest) take the time to emphasize it from the pulpit, and the lines on Saturday mornings and Thursday nights show it. Within the last 15 years, I have seen more Catholics frequenting the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

    I say this because I was part of the generation that grew up in the 70s and 80s, where Mass (and I was an altar boy) was the “happy-clappy” music, felt banners on the altar, watered down catechesis (much of our junior high nights were discussions on substance abuse, social justice, suicide, peer pressure, etc.), and the Sacrament of Confession was basically “oh, that’s the Pre-Vatican II Church, it is now 1981, and the laity can go to counselors, therapists, or teachers for guidance.”

    I recall around 1978 and after, our parish offered Confession 30 minutes before Saturday evening Mass, and I don’t recall too many people going because when my brother and I showed up 15 minutes early to serve (which we did nearly every week), two priests who regularly presided over Saturday evening Mass were normally found smoking a cigarette outside the sacristy, and parishioners noticed. Needless to say, I didn’t go to Confession for at least 13 years – Christmas 1995 I went again for the first time, and the priest who did that Confession is now a bishop.

    It’s really a no-brainer why much of my generation (born between 1961 and 1977) called CCD “Central City Dump” and quite a few of my generation (and even some of their parents) looked at confirmation as some kind of “graduation exercise from the Church.”