Dear
Master Thugfang, I am writing to you from a special assignment. My patient is a
Catholic. His erstwhile handler was reassigned on short notice because of the
patient’s troubling habit of weekly confession, and I have been placed in
charge of the case since I have had some success with this in the past. I even
wrote an article for Wickedness Weekly entitled, “How to Keep your Patient from Going to Confession.”
Unfortunately, all the tricks and tactics I have used before seem to have no
effect on this particular patient. It persists in its stubborn adherence to
this habit, so I am writing to you to ask if there is any other technique you
know of which I can use?
Sincerely,
the Obfuscator
My Dear Obfuscator,
You poor dear idiot. You allowed your ambition to
control you, you opened your mouth among your betters, and now look where it
has gotten you. You are in up to your horns, and about to go under. Yes, I read
that article. Amateurish at best. The sort of thing I would have given a barely
passing grade when I was teaching. No originality, no imagination, just a list
of techniques gleaned from the standard textbooks. But you had to go and set
yourself up as an anti-confession expert, and your controllers took you at your
boast.
Well, well, well, looks like it falls to poor old me
to get you out of this mess. Pay attention because this may well be too
advanced for you.
Obviously, the best place for confession, or any
sacrament at all, is on the other side of the universe. We want our patients
not to know that they exist. No slightest whisper of the hope that has been
placed in front of them should ever reach their ears from a fellow human, and
we have largely been successful in that regard.
But some do hear about these weapons, and then we
have to scramble to keep them from making use of them. That is what you have
been trying to do and it is undoubtedly the right answer. Horrible things
happen in the confessional. For one thing, it is typically a no fly zone for
us. The only way we can even be present in any useful capacity is if we are
invited by one of the humans, and even then we usually cannot bring any real
influence to bear unless the human has already come pretty much under our power.
These are rare cases. For the average Catholic the power of that sacrament is
such that even our most skilled agents are blinded and choked by the
atmosphere. Hence, we have no chance to observe and document what really
happens. We see only what goes in and what comes out. What goes in is a human
soul with our little foothold well established, or even a large foothold, even
almost total control. What comes out is a soul completely freed from our work.
Every single vestige of our presence and influence has been wiped away, and we
must begin all that tiresome work over again. Worse, the soul that has
confessed reflects some of the light of the Enemy Himself, and that is a toxic
work environment.
How does it work? I don’t know, and I don’t care.
Probably the only reason we cannot see or understand it is because it is really
total nonsense. The whole concept of “forgiveness” is utterly irrational, the
sort of sentimental twaddle the Enemy constantly pontificates about. We in Hell
do not believe in forgiveness, do not want it and do not need it. It does not
exist. There is no such thing. There is only some (currently) poorly understood
mechanism by which the Enemy regains some lost territory.
So, let us just say you cannot keep your patient
from confessing regularly. The question then becomes, how can you use
confession to your advantage. You cannot prevent it so you must corrupt it.
As I said, you won’t be able to get into the
confession itself uninvited, so your work must be done entirely in the time
outside of the confessional. You cannot attack the sacrament directly (although
research is underway as of this writing) so you must attack the patient’s use
of it.
The easiest way to do this is to encourage a
“vending machine” mentality towards confession. Encourage your patient to think
of the confessional as a forgiveness machine, a process. He walks in and
rattles off the major sins he happens to be able to call to mind, (not the
really serious ones, just the ones that most struck his fancy as being really
sins. As a rule a patient should be utterly unconscious of his most sinful tendencies.)
He sits impatiently through thirty seconds or so of platitudinous advice he has
heard a hundred times before, says a few Our Father’s and Hail Mary’s and “Cha
ching!” Forgiven.
Once the vending machine approach is well
established all sorts of doors are opened. The first and most obvious is to
undermine real sorrow for sin. Since it is just a machine, and not a person he
is encountering in the confessional he can sin as much as he likes, go to
confession and be on his merry way. That is almost the perfect attitude towards
confession, second only to complete avoidance. The presumption and lack of a
purpose of amendment not only completely negate the spiritual effects of the
sacrament, they are also sins in their own right, and wherever sin is committed,
we are invited in. That’s how you get into the confessional. You get your
patient to invite you in. I have had a patient so firmly in my claw that he and
I were merrily occupied planning next Friday’s debauchery while he listening to
the words of absolution on Saturday afternoon.
Failing that, I advise you to discourage the use of
a regular confessor (unless you can find one of our priests). Instead, send him
around to whatever priest is convenient for him at the moment. Do this by
working on his subconscious shame of someone seeing him fall into the same sins
every week, and by reminding him of the truth that any valid confession will
have the same sacramental effect. This will open up more opportunities for you.
You can make your patient a connoisseur of confessors by encouraging him to
critique every priest who hears his confession (pride). It protects him from
the nasty habit of developing a relationship with his confessor. In a really
good confessor/penitent relationship, the confessor will do a lot of
extra-curricular work on those shallower areas that the sacrament itself is not
necessarily touching. The priest might start digging into the patient’s
subconscious fears, his hidden assumptions, his attitudes, his imagination.
These shallow areas are our territory. We don’t need any holy priest who really
knows and cares about the patient to be meddling in those areas. Bad enough he
is the agent of a supernatural spiritual healing. So get busy and send your
patient to a different priest every week. The less his confessor knows his
penitent, the more generic his advice will be, and the more patient will come
to despise that advice. He will blame the priest, “That priest just doesn’t
know me and my situation.” Instead of sticking with that priest and explaining
his situation, he will just toddle on off to look for another one.
This also discourages real self-knowledge. A wise
priest will get to know his penitent pretty well, and will pass on that
knowledge to the penitent himself. A different priest every week will not have
that opportunity, and consequently the patient may go through years of
confessions without ever really coming to know himself.
It is also wise to make the patient’s preparation
for confession sloppy and haphazard as possible. In this you are aided by the
natural human reluctance to think about its own sins. Your work should be
fairly simple. He will confess only the one or two items that are really
burning on his mind, completely unaware of the serious habits and trends
forming in other areas. This will not, at first, negate the power of the
sacrament to forgive, but it will hamper its power to transform, since the
Enemy wishes these humans to be free agents in their own transformation. He
cannot transform what they will not allow Him to, they cannot allow what they
cannot see, and they cannot see what they will not look for. This is the
biggest reason why we have invested so much energy in giving the “Examination
of Conscience” a bad name.
If you cannot keep your patient from examining try
the opposite tack. Scrupulosity is a useful sin and, in my humble opinion, one
of the most entertaining. A human who thinks that every one of his actions is
sinful is in the grip of a very profound lack of trust. From there it is a
simple matter to attack the patient’s trust in the Enemy, His mercy, and His
sacrament. Paired with the right priest, there is no better way to chase a
patient away from confession for life, or to make all their confessions
worthless. Despair is, perhaps, the most secure sin.
Unfortunately this column has already grown too
long, so I will have to address proper post-confession attacks in my next
column. I do advise you to read that column, and in the meanwhile to reread and
seriously practice what you have read in this one. I am sure I don’t need to
point out what Hell thinks of demons who over-represent their own abilities and
lose patients because of it.
Cheers!
Thugfang
Dear Master Thugfang, Your well thought out tricks and traps will definitely be reread over the next while. There is much there to be applied with my Catholic patient, and I am beginning immediately. I am also looking forward to your additional column on post-confesson attacks.
ReplyDeleteHowever, through analyzing my patient before and after he goes to confession I have begun to realize why I have been having difficulty. It is due to the one question that you touched on briefly at the beginning of you letter, "How does confession work?" As you said, it is total nonsense to us, completely irrational. Yet, this man believes that it is powerful! So, would it not be better to show him how ineffective confession actually is? Why could we not attack the sacrament itself? I realize that the confessional is a no fly zone we cannot access. However, we could attack his faith in confession indirectly, by playing on his fears that he is revealing himself in a way that makes him vulnerable! Pride is the downfall of many men, as you yourself mentioned, so why don't we help him to realize that he is telling his sins to a mere man... one who might use that information for his own benefit. His pride would then guide him away from saying anything that would make him appear lesser or weak, for no man wishes to be judged by another. I will be considering all these issues critically as I continue to seriously practice your advice.
Sincerely, the Obfuscator
My Dearest, Darling Obfuscator,
DeleteSo wise we are, suddenly! So perspicacious! You grasp things so quickly and even come to conclusions the master had not reached! Well, a gold star for the star pupil.
Certainly, if you can attack the patient's awareness of the priest's humanity, by all means do so. I have known it to work, but not, usually, in a patient with a well established habit of confessing. That sort of thing is better suited to the lapsed Catholic who is half-considering going back to the Church. That's when you want to trot out a parade of priest scandal stories and bad jokes about altar boys and confessions. Better still if he knew a priest who was an alcoholic, or a glutton, or even simply a bore. Anything to render ludicrous (in his mind as it is in ours) the idea that the Enemy could possibly use such a weak, pathetic sinner to affect His work. Even a cursory reading of the gospels would convince the dullest human that not only is that not unusual, it is precisely the Enemy's usual mode of operation, but most humans don't read the gospels. That is where you make mileage on the priest's sins.
In the case of a patient who has been confessing regularly for years, particularly if he confesses to several priests, his faith is in the sacrament, not the priest. As you pointed out, he believes the sacrament is powerful, and that is why he goes. He probably doesn't seriously attach that power to the priest himself.
On the other claw, if you do know anything about the priest, it wouldn't hurt to ensure the patient becomes aware of it. The juicier the better. What if the priest doesn't have any serious faults? Well, you're a demon, aren't you? Gossip, suspicion and lies are as good as a conviction in your patient's culture. Maybe he will stop going to confession altogether, or maybe he will simply decide to quit going to that priest. Either way, the distrust is certainly worth it, if you can make it happen.
Another thought. I once got a patient to stop going to confession to her regular confessor, who was a very wise and holy man, because I convinced her that every time he preached a homily on gossip he was thinking about her latest confession. I had forgotten that little anecdote. One of my more humorous escapades, if I do say so. In fact, the truth of the matter was that that abominable little prig spent so many hours in the confessional per week he was guaranteed to hear every sin in the book by four-o-clock wednesday afternoon. Make fun of her? Ha! He couldn't for the life of him remember which parishoner had told him what sins, except for one or two of the more colorful local characters. I strongly suspect he had heard a murder confessed once or twice (a few of my colleagues were assigned to local gang members) but given the fate of the priest's handler, I doubt he ever broke the seal of the confessional.
Which reminds me, I really ought to look you up some time. I have taken a special interest in your career, and we might be meeting far sooner than you ever expected.
Cheers!
Thugfang