Confession - Bless Me for I Have Sinned

Bless Me, for I Have Sinned

I have a confession to make: I married an Anglican. Not just any Anglican, but a devoted lay reader and lay communion server who spends many Sundays at the altar and not in my preferred place in the pew. When I met him, I agreed to attend an Anglican church because it was the place he loved. I did not count the cost.

I was unfamiliar with liturgical worship and accustomed to evaluating worship through the lens of my own experience, comfort, and emotional response. Rather than being curious about practices I did not yet understand, I made a list of all the things I would never do in the church. The rite called the Reconciliation of Penitents, commonly known as Confession, was at the top of that list.

Sponsored

My idea of making a confession was this prayer: “Lord, help me learn this lesson really well so I never have to walk up this mountain again.” What I was really asking God for was relief, happiness, help, healing, strength, and understanding. What I was not asking for was forgiveness.

I assumed that acknowledgment was the same as confession. I believed God’s forgiveness would manifest as relief from my uncomfortable feelings, suffering, and circumstances. I could acknowledge my pain, acknowledge my struggle, and even acknowledge my failures, but I never actually said, “I am sorry.” I had mistaken self-awareness for repentance.

One Mediator, Many Means of Grace

Why are we so resistant to the Rite of Reconciliation? Why is it so uncommon to participate in something that offers restoration, belonging, and an experience of God’s love that I struggle to adequately describe in words?

I suspect many of us have made Reconciliation seem more daunting than it truly is. We readily schedule appointments with clergy to ask for prayer, seek counsel, discuss a struggle, or wrestle through a difficult decision. In those conversations, we are already naming burdens, speaking honestly about failures, and receiving pastoral care.

My own resistance to Reconciliation stemmed from a misunderstanding of 1 Timothy 2:5:

There is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.

I Timothy 2:5

I never quite made it through the rest of the chapter. I heard “one mediator” and assumed I needed less of the Church, less teaching, and less formation. What I failed to understand was that Christ often mediates his grace through the very things I was resisting.

Over time, I realized that submitting myself to the love of my husband, the Church, and Christ began with surrender. When life begins and ends with me—my comfort, my feelings, my opinions, my assumptions, and my imagination—I slowly lose sight of what it means to live as though Jesus Christ is truly my Mediator.

Liturgical worship challenges the idea that we can serve as our own mediator. Through the repeated rhythms of recitation, standing, sitting, and kneeling, it shapes us in ways we do not always notice. It gradually revealed that what I had called discernment, caution, or personal preference was often, in fact, pride and a resistance to God’s love.

Learning to Examine My Own Conscience

Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

Proverbs 16:18

As St. Augustine understood it, pride involves the soul turning away from God and making its own comfort and exaltation the ultimate end.

Pride taught me to examine everyone and everything around me. Reconciliation taught me to examine my own conscience.

The General Confession we recite week after week is ancient and unchanging, and its words invite more than routine repetition. We acknowledge and bewail our manifold sins; we repent of sins committed in thought, word, and deed. In speaking these words, we are invited to examine our conscience and consider the impact of our sins on our lives and those around us. We kneel before God and say, “I am sorry.”

My First Confession

My first confession was intimidating—I think my eyes must have been the size of saucers.

I chose to go to Reconciliation because I experienced irrational anger I could not shake. As I prayed about it, I decided to try out this ancient practice. I did not ask anyone how to do it or even check the Prayer Book. The only thing that I knew about Reconciliation was that it would be confidential.

So, naturally, I made a nonspecific appointment, then simply wandered into my rector’s office, and asked to make a confession. I still remember the brightness of the fluorescent lights and joking that I wanted to curl up in the corner in the fetal position.

Reconciliation surprised me in so many ways. I did not experience immediate relief. I learned that relief and surrender are not the same thing. I continued to struggle, but I learned that the struggle did not need to become doubt. It did not mean I was in the wrong place or that something was wrong with me.

Fr. John has never walked up to me and asked, “Hey, Anne, how’s the irrational anger?”

What I once dismissed as vain repetition became a means of grace that continually directs me back to Christ and reminds me of my need for his mercy.

How to Prepare for a First Confession

If you are curious about making a first confession, here is a list of steps.

Step 1: Schedule a time for confession with your priest or plan to attend a scheduled time at your parish. In my experience, the sacrament itself is not lengthy or time-consuming. Most of the preparation happens beforehand through prayer, examination of conscience, and honest reflection.

Step 2: Read the Rite of Reconciliation of the Penitents in the Book of Common Prayer.

Step 3: Complete an examination of conscience and write it down. A written list is far less intimidating than an unplanned confession. I want my time to be productive and the counsel I receive to be relevant. Remembering my sins in the moment is unlikely to be as effective as bringing a prepared list.

Some examination tools to consider are the Examen featured in the St. Bernard Breviary or the Examination of the Penitent found in St. Augustine’s Prayer Book. Your rector, priest, or pastor will also have resources.

Step 4: Expect to return. Treating confession as an obligation that occurs once a year can preserve both mystery and dread around the sacrament. Giving yourself permission to go when you need to go allows Reconciliation to become a place of ongoing formation rather than a rare event. Over time, fear gives way to familiarity, reluctance gives way to trust, and confession becomes less about relief and more about abiding in Christ’s mercy.

Should I Go?

When people learn that I have written an article on Reconciliation, I am often asked, “How do I know if I need to go?” and “How often should I go to confession?”

Anglicans often summarize the practice with the phrase: “All may, some should, none must.”

I cannot tell you whether you should go or how often you should go because we are all different. What I can say is that if the question itself comes to mind, it may be an invitation to prayer, discernment, and honest reflection.

What began as a reluctant act for me became a cherished means of grace.

Inside the Confessional

The ecclesial sacrament of Reconciliation of the Penitent begins with kneeling, gathering my written examination of conscience and the Book of Common Prayer, and stating the words, “Bless me, for I have sinned.” Not “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” The words matter because the prayer is directed to God.

The priest is not replacing Christ as mediator, but participating in Christ’s ministry as a witness. Fr. Matthew usually bears witness to my confession by staring at the ceiling.

When I complete my confession, I conclude:

I pray God to have mercy on me. I firmly intend amendment of life and humbly beg forgiveness of God and his Church and ask for your counsel, direction, and absolution.

Book of Common Prayer (2019)

Next comes counsel, direction, or comfort. I believe we are often afraid of this part of confession because we fear anger, judgment, or punishment. Many people imagine counsel as a lecture about everything they have done wrong. While I have certainly experienced accountability, I have never experienced an unkind or shaming response.

Anglican penance is intended to direct us back to prayer, repentance, and amendment of life rather than to impose punitive actions. It may be as simple as praying through a specific Psalm. The goal is restoration, not punishment.

The priest prays the absolution.

Reconciliation concludes with the words, “Go in peace, and pray for me, a sinner.” In this simple prayer, the priest acknowledges his own need for God’s mercy. In that moment, I am reminded that we both stand before God as sinners in need of grace.

My Other Confession

My other confession is this: the Reconciliation of Penitents is something for which I have deep gratitude. Over time, I have learned that active participation and surrender are far more joyful and freeing than resistance, analysis, and evaluation.

One of my favorite verses is Proverbs 3:5-6:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct your paths.

Proverbs 3:5-6

For many years, I leaned heavily on my own understanding. Reconciliation taught me that God’s mercy is greater than my understanding and that surrender is often the pathway to grace.

What began as reluctant participation became a source of nourishment, encouragement, and joy. For that, I am deeply grateful.


Professional Disclaimer: The reflections in this article are offered for educational and informational purposes only. They do not constitute psychotherapy, counseling, or professional advice. Individuals experiencing distress related to religious, spiritual, or institutional experiences are encouraged to seek support from a qualified mental health professional or a trauma-informed spiritual director.


Image: Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash. Digitally edited by Jacob Davis.

Author

Anne Chester

Anne Chester is a licensed clinical social worker (counselor) and writer based in Southlake, Texas, with a passion for integrating faith and mental health. She is a member of St. Laurence Anglican Church and a student at St. Paul’s House of Formation. Often writing under the pen name The Present Parishioner, she explores how grace, belonging, formation, and faithful institutions foster healing, integrity, and resilient hope.

View more from Anne Chester

Comments

Please comment with both clarity and charity!

Subscribe to Comments
Notify of
2 Comments

Thank you for this thoughtful article. One of the common objections to sacramental confession is that it somehow stands between the Christian and Christ. Ironically, I have found the opposite to be true. Honest confession, spoken aloud, has a way of bringing us face-to-face with Christ crucified, where the reality of both our sin and His mercy becomes unmistakably clear.

Scripture also reminds us that sin and forgiveness are never merely individual matters. As members of the Body of Christ, our failures affect one another, which helps explain St. James’s exhortation to “confess your sins to one another” (James 5:16). Naming our sins in the Reconsiliation rescues us from the vagueness and self-deception that so often accompany private repentance. It forces us to see ourselves truthfully while, at the same time, hearing the liberating assurance of God’s forgiveness. In that sense, sacramental confession is not a barrier to Christ but one of the Church’s profound means of drawing sinners ever closer to Him.

Thank you Shannon! I love your insight here!