Confession: an introvert's dream.

“Poof!” he said. “Your sins are all gone now.” I sat in stunned silence. The “poof” came with a magician’s hand gesture, which made it even more unexpected. In the tiny confessional, face-to-face with Father D., I had just confessed my sins, and was “poofed.” Don’t worry, the “poof” wasn’t intended to be anything official. Father did pray over me:

“God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

I think it was Father’s custom to say “poof, it’s all gone” to remind the penitent of one of the effects of the sacrament: peace and serenity of conscience, and spiritual consolation (CCC 1496). At that moment we really are forgiven, our sins are absolved, and we are as clean as the day of our baptism. And this consolation – in fact the entire experience of Reconciliation – is what makes it one of my “introvert’s dreams.”

Are you serious? Confession? Most Catholics avoid it, or at least dread it. And I understand the reasons why. It can be uncomfortable. Do I really have to confess that? Or the flip side: what if I forget something, does it still “take?” And then there’s the whole matter of the priest himself – some have a gift for making us feel really and truly loved and forgiven, and some leave us feeling like we just wasted their time. Some give what I call “puff ball penance,” and some challenge us in ways we would rather just not.

In the end all that doesn’t matter. All that matters is making a good examination of conscience, being real and truly sorry for offending God, receiving absolution from the priest, and making a true act of contrition. And then “poof.”

So why does all that make it an introvert’s dream?

Being in the confessional is like being inside my own mind, where it is totally safe (although sometimes unpleasant) to lay out the good, bad, and ugly and be totally real and honest. Now, mind you, there is a priest in the room with me when this is happening. Which you would think would trip my trigger and make me clam up – because it does require interaction with another human. Quite the opposite is true. Because it is a deep one-on-one, and not a “go around the room and share” type activity, I am more willing and able to bear my soul, which is the whole point.

I don’t have to be best friends with the priest. I don’t even have to know him. Which seems to go contrary to an introvert’s preference for fewer but deeper relationships. In my heart, though, this is not a stranger, but Jesus himself.

“When he celebrates the sacrament of Penance, the priest is fulfilling the ministry of the Good Shepherd who seeks the lost sheep, of the Good Samaritan who binds up wounds, of the Father who awaits the prodigal son and welcomes him on his return, and of the just and impartial judge whose judgment is both just and merciful. the priest is the sign and the instrument of God's merciful love for the sinner.” (CCC 1465)

The challenge for a Catholic introvert.

While I do think that the Sacrament of Reconciliation is an introvert’s dream, I don’t mean that it doesn’t have its challenges for our personality type. Introverts prefer written communication over verbal, and we can’t really turn our confession in on paper. So, the difficulty can be in verbalizing our (very well examined) sins to the priest.

I have tried just “winging it” but often get tongue tied or forget what was on my list to confess. I have also tried various confession apps, which can be helpful. But I feel a little limited by their functionality, and the built-in examination of conscience doesn’t always get at what I need to talk about. So, I have instead started using a note-taking app, noting my sins in kind of a bullet list that is just detailed enough to keep me focused. (By the way I have never had a priest express a negative reaction to my pulling up a list on my phone.) I keep an act of contrition right there at the bottom of my list, and afterward when I have completed my penance, I open the list and delete all but the prayer.

That’s what works for me, but I encourage you to try a few things and see what suits you. The idea is to make yourself comfortable verbally communicating so you make your best confession every time.

An introvert’s advice for extroverts.

The first bit of advice is really for anyone, and that’s just to go. Because although it might be a struggle, in the end nothing bad will happen, most likely the priest will help if you forget exactly how it goes, and it’s over before you know it. You’ll leave grateful that you took the time, and it might just get you to think about a routine trip to the confessional.

An extrovert’s superpower is the ability to process feelings, thoughts, and situations externally. That is usually demonstrated by the extrovert’s need to “talk things through” to come to a solution or resolution. Confession may offer you the opportunity to process your faith-life with the priest by talking it out, which could be an energizing experience.

Extroverts often like the thrill of the new and different. So, if it’s been a while since you’ve been to confession, think of it as something you can be curious about. Try several nearby parishes and use the chance to meet priests you don’t know. Because extroverts generally have and enjoy a large circle of friends and acquaintances, this might be a terrific side effect of the experiment.

Finally, from my perspective, the Church could use the Catholic extrovert’s natural enthusiasm to lead others back to the sacrament by being role models. Natural-born leaders, the extrovert parishioner can open conversations and openly talk about their experiences with the sacrament. Can you feel the excitement building, my extrovert friend?

I’m thankful for the Sacrament.

I’ve often said since becoming Catholic that confession is my favorite sacrament. “No offense to Matrimony.” (Rimshot.) It’s not just because it has something that appeals to my introverted nature. That’s terrific and makes it easy for me, but whether I am introverted, extroverted, or “nothingverted” doesn’t really matter.

God gave us this sacrament as a gift of pure love, providing us with the means to return to him after we have sinned. Sin also separates us from each other, and the sacrament also heals that wound. Introverts love to be “separate” but I do not want – ever – to be separated from the love of God and the Church. In this way we are connected as Catholics. (But please, no hugging.)