Act of Contrition
I called my auntie back in New York just before dawn as I walked down Kalakaua Avenue one morning last week to tell her the news. “Marie,” I said to her phone, “I just went to confession for the first time in more than 40 years. And…” I paused for a second, searching for the right words. “Well, let’s put it this way,” I continued. “It was a good idea.” I still can’t believe I went to back into the confessional during my trip to Honolulu after a decades-long defection from this sacrament. Most people go to confession after vacation to atone for the sins they racked up while they were on the road. But I was doing all sorts of different things on this outing and it felt like the right time for a spiritual cleansing. I had attended mass at St. Augustine-by-the-sea after meeting and eating with the wonderful members of the Tongan choirg and I thought that going to confession would be the next logical step. This was not an easy decision, as confession was one of the scarier a...