Absolution

In my younger days, I avoided confession.

It was easy to do. Confession was offered on Saturday evenings, and Saturday evenings were convenient for finding something else to do. I told myself I would go another time. I convinced myself that my sins were not serious. I postponed.

Avoidance is subtle that way.

As I have grown older, my relationship with confession has changed. What once felt uncomfortable now feels like relief. There is something deeply steadying about hearing the words spoken aloud: “I absolve you.” It is not vague reassurance. It is not self-help. It is the assurance that God has forgiven.

Scripture is clear:

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
— 1 John 1:9

Faithful. Just. Not hesitant. Not partial.

And yet, there was a time when I did not feel forgiven.

I went to confession sincerely. I examined my conscience carefully. I received absolution. But afterward, the weight remained. I returned again. And again. I could not understand why God was not forgiving me.

I apologized to the people I believed I had hurt. I tried to repair what I could. Still, something felt unresolved.

Finally, I asked a priest why I did not feel God’s forgiveness.

He answered calmly, without hesitation:
“You have been forgiven. It is you who has not forgiven yourself.”

That sentence settled into me and stayed.

I had done everything externally. I had confessed. I had asked forgiveness of others. I had heard the words of absolution. But I had not accepted what God had already given. I was holding onto the offense as if self-condemnation were a form of humility.

It was not humility. It was resistance.

The Psalmist writes:

“As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.”
— Psalm 103:12

God removes what we continue to carry.

I realized that seeking forgiveness has two movements. We seek reconciliation with God and with those we have hurt. But we must also receive that forgiveness. We must allow it to take root. Until we forgive ourselves, we will continue returning to the same place, asking again for what has already been granted.

Absolution is real. God’s mercy is not partial or hesitant. When He forgives, He forgives completely.

The question is whether we are willing to live as though that is true.

Confession is no longer something I avoid. It is something I respect. It is where truth is spoken plainly, and mercy is given freely. It is where I am reminded that I do not need to carry what Christ has already carried for me.

Forgiveness is offered.
Peace is given.
The rest is acceptance.