Shrove Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Confession, and Sin

The day before Lent is variously known as Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday, or Pancake day, all names that refer to eating up all the foods of celebration before Lent begins. But it is also known as “Shrove Tuesday” - a name that comes from the old English verb “to shrive”. The precise meaning of the word is lost, but it is something like “hear a confession”, and perhaps also “assurance of forgiveness”. Coleridge made up his own, antiquated version of the word in The Ancient Mariner - "O shrieve me, shrieve me, Holy Man"  - the Mariner's impassioned tones carrying a note of desperation and anticipated relief at the need and possibility of forgiveness. 

We have become highly sensitized to the word “sin”; it’s a word that has been abused and over-used, and often carries overtones of judgmental or over-strict religious practices. It is only right to acknowledge that the role of the Church in offering forgiveness has been compromised, because it is in the Church, which should be a place of healing and reconciliation, that people have found themselves not only judged, but grievously sinned against. Yet when we take the time to come face to face with ourselves, we all find places in our own souls where we carry guilt, shame or regret. So while it is right to challenge the misuse of words and concepts like “sin”, that should not keep us from discovering for ourselves the deeply liberating experience of knowing ourselves forgiven by God and by others, and in the process also forgiving ourselves. 

In Roland Joffé’s The Mission, Rodrigo Mendoza, a mercenary and slaver is converted, and experiences a moment of forgiveness that changes him forever. During his conversion, Mendoza (played by Robert de Niro) asks Jesuit priest Father Gabriel to pronounce his forgiveness. But instead, Gabriel asks him to do a penance. Mendoza packs up all his weapons into a large net, piles them on his back, and sets out to climb a huge cliff face, at the top of which is a Mission, inhabited by Spanish Jesuits and Guaraní who converted to Christianity. Accompanied by a group of Jesuits, Mendoza climbs slowly and painfully, falling several times, after which the younger monks beg Gabriel to end the penance. Gabriel, though, insists that Mendoza completes the penance. As Mendoza reaches the top of the cliff face, hundreds of feet above a deep river, he comes face to face with the Guaraní, who stand there with knives and axes raised. They recognize him as their enemy and slave trader, and for a split second it seems that the Guaraní are poised to take their revenge. Then, one by one, they cut the ropes from his arms, letting the great weight of all his armor and weapons fall away, and pull him up to safety, where amid tears and laughter Mendoza not only discovers his forgiveness by God; he is also forgiven by his former captives, and – at last – is able to forgive himself. 

Making confession is still a practice that many keep – some churches have a formalized ritual, while others simply listen to, and pray for one another informally. To know, conceptually, that we are forgiven is a good start. But naming our own failings, and then hearing our forgiveness pronounced by a fellow Christian who also knows what it is to fail, can have a profoundly liberating psychological effect. Taking time during Lent to do some spiritual spring-cleaning in this way is a gift we shouldn’t miss; a great weight can roll off our shoulders as we discover joy and laughter in the deep peace of reconciliation. 

For more on what it means to forgive others, see here
For 40 ways to keep Lent (ecological, literary, social and spiritual) see here
Adapted from an earlier post from 16th February 2013.