In the mid-20th century, a British woman went to Confession one day in a (not unusual for her) state of exhaustion and depression.
“What will help you,” the priest said to her in the confessional, “will be a book by Caryll Houselander called This War is the Passion. You probably won’t understand all of it, but read such-and-such pages.”
Unbeknownst to him, the woman on the other side of the screen was Caryll Houselander herself.
“What did you do?” asked her friend Frank Sheed, whose wife, Maisie Ward, tells the story in her book Caryll Houselander: Divine Eccentric.
“Read it, of course,” Caryll answered. “I always do what I’m told in confession.”
By that time, Caryll’s fame as a spiritual writer had perpetuated an endless stream of people flocking to her for help and advice. It was her gift for easing anxious minds that spurred the priest to recommend her own book to her that day in the confessional. Her profound insight came the hard way, earned through a lifetime of struggling with what she called “neurosis,” an illness that gave her tremendous empathy and understanding for people who, like her, also suffered from scruples, anxiety, depression, and other related symptoms.
Because she had experienced their struggles firsthand, Caryll was able to counsel the scrupulous and anxious with remarkable results. Even doctors sent their patients to her, and she helped to heal them, though she had no medical training at all.
One subject Caryll often discussed with people who suffered from anxiety was how to approach Confession. The sacrament of Penance, she observed, often induced fear in the hearts of timid and anxious souls. But this type of fear is contrary to the true nature of the sacrament, which is meant to draw us closer to God in love, not drive us away from Him in trepidation or self-flagellation.
“Remember Confession, like Communion, is first of all a contact, a loving embrace with Our Lord,” she writes to a friend in The Letters of Caryll Houselander.
“Penance is a form of Communion, a means of union with Christ—that above all else,” she writes to another friend.
An anxious person will often obsess over the state of his own soul, Caryll notes. In Guilt (the book Maisie Ward aptly called Caryll’s “most important work”), she describes what Confession might be like for a woman suffering from anxiety:
She will doubt the sincerity of her contrition because she does not think that she feels sorry, or sorry enough, or sorry for the right reason. She will doubt the sincerity of her purpose of amendment because she thinks it likely that in spite of her good intentions she may sin again. The examination of conscience, her greatest bugbear of all, will present insurmountable difficulties. She will either think that she has not done anything sinful, or that everything she has done is sinful, or that she has forgotten what she has done that is sinful. If she ever reaches a decision about what she has or has not done, she will proceed to the torment of trying to assess the gravity of the sin, to decide whether it is mortal, venial, deliberate, sin at all, or imperfection. When she has at last made her confession she will fall into fresh anxiety about how she made it, whether she forgot, left out or misrepresented something, even whether the priest understood what she said. Next she will bring to the saying of the act of contrition, and her penance, the same anxiety which she does at home to whether she has switched off the electric light or not. She will worry about whether she really remembers what penance she was told to say.
All these difficulties come from concentrating on self instead of on God, and not really believing in the goodness of God.
The tendency to overthink and overanalyze one’s own sinfulness, Caryll points out, is often not a willful choice on the part of the penitent. It is a psychological symptom that might stem from childhood experiences, genetic predisposition, or any number of influences outside of the person’s control. Whatever the cause, though, reflecting on the true nature of the sacrament of Penance will help to ease the anxious mind.
When we think too much about our sins, we lose sight of the true meaning of the sacrament: the mercy and forgiveness of God. It’s about His love, not our failure. Ruminating over our own sins keeps our eyes fixed on ourselves. The remedy is to turn one’s thoughts to God’s goodness instead.
Author’s Note: Caryll’s specific advice for anxious penitents will appear in the continuation of this article, which will run tomorrow.
This article was inspired by Caryll Houselander’s book This War is the Passion, available from Ave Maria Press.
Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash