Sometimes after confession I have felt so joyous that I have wanted to eat a fat slice of chocolate cake; sometimes I have felt immense relief, unburdened; one time I felt deep dissatisfaction – and it was my fault for avoiding confessing the thing that was most necessary; and then there was this time when, despite the pain of the experience, I realized that Jesus had my back.
I used to think I was one of the righteous ones, and it made me a little pouty.
(Whoa! How’s that for a beginning? Be patient, and I will abase myself presently.)
Jesus said this in the parable about the lost sheep:
What man among you having a hundred sheep and losing one of them would not leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it? And when he does find it, he sets it on his shoulders with great joy and, upon his arrival home, he calls together his friends and neighbors and says to them, ‘Rejoice with me, because I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you, in just the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over the ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance. Luke 15:4-7 (NAB)
I used to think, What about me, Lord? I’m trying. I love you. I’m on the right path! Don’t I bring you joy?
Goodness, how self-centered and silly that sounds to me now, because I have grown up spiritually a great deal in the past few years, and I have realized that without a doubt I am not righteous. I am a lost sheep. Not always. Not every moment. But I am often. And even when I am not lost, I am always a sinner. We are all lost sheep at one time or another, and Jesus, our Shepherd, continually calls us back. If we belong to Him, we hear his voice. We may return with our eyes downcast and our hands dirty, but when we again stand at the foot of His cross, He lifts us high on his shoulders and proclaims that we are found!
And people wonder why we love Jesus so much! He always has our back. He died on the cross for our sins, the Lamb of God.
There have been several times in the last few months when I realized that Jesus had my back, and so my love for Him has grown, like that of the woman who washed His feet with her hair (Luke 7:36-50).
One Sunday evening at Mass as I prepared to receive communion, I was weighed down by a very particular and serious sin, though I didn’t fully realize its seriousness, or I would not have taken communion. As I reflected before getting up to receive Eucharist, I felt Jesus eliciting the promise from me that I would go to confession that next Saturday. It was a subtle but clear thought, and I responded, Okay, if you want me to, I will go to confession next week, Lord.
And so I went. Wow. That was a hard confession. For those who have no reference point for it, I could hardly explain it. Suffice it to say that in that confessional I realized the graveness of what I had done. I understood that I gave in to evil during a battle with temporary depression – I listened to its vile whisperings – and I saw clearly how my behavior could have affected my children had they been privy to it, and I was appalled. That was the hardest confession of my life, but then I knew; I knew why Christ had elicited that promise from me: He had my back. He knew, even if I did not, that I should not be receiving Him without the Sacrament of Reconciliation. What that priest said – kindly but firmly, concerned – was something I needed to hear, something I believe wholeheartedly that Jesus wanted me to hear, so that I would NEVER go down that dark alleyway again.
I came out of that confessional sobbing, and I went into the little chapel and sobbed more as I prayed. I was still crying as I went to leave the church, and just at that moment a middle-aged lady came out of the bathroom and asked, “Do you need a hug?”
I did, and I hugged this kind stranger long and hard, weeping on her shoulder. When I drew back, she kept a hand on my arm and said in compassion, “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. I prayed for you, and I will pray for you again during Mass.”
With all my heart I thanked her. In her words I felt Jesus holding out his hand to me, saying, Peace be with you, Hillary. I will not leave you an orphan. You have returned to me, and I will lift you high on my shoulders again, rejoicing.
For I was a lost sheep. I was lost, but now I’m found.
It’s my job to joyfully witness to other lost sheep, to tell them the good news that Jesus takes us with all our faults, all our sins and all our baggage, and His truth frees us and makes us new. While doing so I will have to pray continually for the strength not to stray from my Shepherd again, especially when depressed. But I will not fear. I will put on the armor of Christ. Jesus has my back.
Finally, draw your strength from the Lord and from his mighty power. Put on the armor of God so that you may be able to stand firm against the tactics of the devil. Ephesians 6:11
In all circumstances hold faith as a shield, to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Ephesians 6:16-17
For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost. Luke 19:10
Hillary Ibarra is a mother of four beautiful, faith-filled children for whom she thanks God daily. She and her husband have been married 13 years, and throughout their marriage he has supported her lifelong dream of being a writer. Marriage brought her into the Catholic Church, and Confirmation is one of the greatest gifts she has ever received, changing her life in multiple, unexpected ways. She is a Lector, Children’s Liturgy of the Word catechist, and has been an active participant in the RCIA program at her parish for the past few years. She writes about her faith journey on her personal blog, Seeking The Prince of Peace.
Copyright 2015 Hillary Ibarra
Image credit: “Jesus Christ” by condesign, Pixabay