Confession and repentance

Confession and repentance

My brothers, I have sinned.

The confessional seemed to me tiny, packed like a box into which even the air hesitated to enter. The dark wood carried the ancient smell of incense, mixed with the more discreet smell of prayers whispered for decades. As I pushed open the small door, I had the impression of crossing an invisible threshold, the one where we stop running away to finally face what we carry deep inside.

Tremble, hands clasped together, short breathing. Through the openwork grating, I saw only a blurred, motionless silhouette, like a presence that did not judge, but waited. The priest made the sign of the cross, and his voice, almost a whisper, resounded in this small, enclosed space. "Peace of Christ be with you. And with your wit," I replied.

Then came that peculiar silence, the one that precedes the heaviest confidences. I had prepared my words, but when I spoke, they seemed to slip away. Finally, in a broken breath, I said in a panting voice, "My father... I have sinned gravely."

The figure didn't answer me immediately. He knew, through long practice, that these words often open the door to deep wounds. "I'm listening," he said softly.

I squeezed my fingers until I felt my nails in the palm of my hand "I have been unfaithful to my faithful. Only once... but that is enough to destroy something in me. I gave in to a moment of weakness, to a desire that I don't even fully understand. I thought I could control myself... but what I have done has escaped me. And since then, the weight of my choice has followed me like a shadow." Then my voice broke for a moment. I breathed deeply, trying to contain the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him., "I look in the mirror every day, father. And I see a traitor. I tell myself that everything is fine. I smile at myself. But inside, I'm just a divided man. I know that if I confessed to them, I would destroy myself. I don't know what the right way to learn is anymore to relieve myself of this sin."

On the other side of the gate, the priest closed his eyes. He had heard a thousand confessions, but never one that had not carried the same pain, the same struggle between truth and fear. "What you feel is a sign that your heart is not hardened," he replied calmly. “Sin always creates a divide: between you and God, between you and those you love, between you and yourself. But tell me more, that I can understand the burden of your pain."

Then in one breath the words poured out like a river with an uncontrollable flow, my voice began to tremble at the hearing of my own words: "He was tall, twice as tall as usual size, with broad shoulders and dressed in a silky white, blue and red shirt. Looking at it more closely I noticed that it sparkled, that its finesse was of great elegance, almost noble, that its white skin with amber reflections was of great finesse. Curious, I approached to smell its musky scent, where a magnificent bouquet of pink grapefruits, almond croissants, frangipane flowers, nectarines and cherry trees emanated, with a mixture of early white flowers, peach and pear, mixed with a touch of wild raspberry, revel to me." Without catching my breath, I continued my confession to the priest who was now listening with the most attentive ears: "I had learned before I met him that he was of noble blood, because his parents were both pure Pinot Meunier. That it had been raised "Above Marie's Wood" in the heart of a shallow soil where ancient limestone gushed, in one of the best plots of Champagne" After a great silence and a sigh of deep guilt I finally confessed: "My father... he is French!” Then I felt my confessor stiffen, and I believe that if he had not been seated, he would have lost his footing under the weight of this sin. The tension was obvious, and I noticed that his face was now caressing the metal screen that separated us, and he said to me panting "keep going my child". He says.

"Yes, I admit it, I consumed, I couldn't resist the temptation. In contrast to his older brothers, muscular and expansive, he displays a greater harmony and a feeling of completeness that makes him very attractive in his youth. Oh, his body…! (Silence, then) Approachable and open, its first kiss completely dry but far from austere, concentrated and mellow, with ripe but lively acidity, abundant underlying tension and a long, chalky finish, made me vibrate with pleasure. I can't be satisfied with only one. Yes, I admit it, I consumed it, again and again, until its last breath."

"But still," says the priest in a now trembling voice.

"I admit that I did even worse, I couldn't resist not sharing it. Then I sinned by two faiths, my father. I have also failed in my honor, in my vows of patriotism, I have broken the rules of my religion. I let it into my house "The Church of Bertil" to be exposed to others and to be consumed again, as I did before. My father I feel so guilty, how can I repent and erase the past from my actions? »

Then calmly the priest answered me in a clear and reassuring voice:

"We can't erase the past, my son, but we can decide not to stay locked in it. Your repentance is real. You must take a step back, pray, ask for the strength to act rightly. The truth can liberate, but it can also hurt. Before you talk to others, ask for the light to discern what will be most restorative, but don't ignore what you have, and share it with them down to the last bottle. For what they expect of you now is to live again in loyalty, in newfound fidelity, and to break all ties with what has led you to sin”.

A long moment stretched out, more peaceful than the previous ones. "Do you want to receive absolution?" asked the priest.

“Yes, my father” I respond with no hesitation.

Then the sacred words resounded in the shadows, carried by an unexpected sweetness. As I heard them, I felt something loosen in him, as if an invisible hand had just untied an ancient knot. The guilt did not disappear, it still asked for reparation and the immediate sale of these two sins, but a path was opened, a path of light and relief. For the sin was not so serious, since it was half-American.

When I left the confessional, my steps were still heavy, but no longer so desperate. I knew that everything was not solved. But I also knew that he could move forward. And for the first time since my fault, I felt that I was no longer alone, for “They” will understand.

The priest raised his hand, slowly tracing the sign of the cross in the air. His voice, deep and soft, fills the silence of the confessional. "May God, the Father of mercy, through the death and resurrection of his Son, have reconciled the world to him and poured out the Holy Spirit for the remission of sins. Through the ministry of the Church, may he grant you forgiveness and peace.

And I, in the name of the Father of the Son, of the Holy Ghost, and of all your faithful clients, absolve you of your sins. »

His hand was lowered, and he added with quiet benevolence:

"Go in peace. May your heart find the light again, and may your path henceforth be oriented towards truth, faithfulness and healing. The Lord walks with those who seek reconciliation and the strength to make amends. Let His grace guides you and lift you up. »

At these words, I woke up, sitting in bed, sweating, confused but relieved, because this dream seemed premonitory to me, and finally I could offer this exceptional Champagne without feeling the weight of guilt... that he is not an American, but how can we not agree to open the door to a stranger when it’s a good one?

Champagne Christophe Baron

Les Dessus du Bois Marie 2019

Croute-Sur-Marne

Champagne, France

100% Pinot Meunier - Zéro Dosage

2 bottles available at Bonde

Magnum (1.5 L)

$342.00