I have been pondering a theory of quasi-conspiracy that confession was devised by the Pope to spice up priests lives a little. You can’t sit around and read the Bible all day every day can you? A few hours here and there sure, that’s good for the soul, but too much of a good thing could be bad.

There are a lot of potentially life changing messages in the Bible, but wouldn’t you get desensitized to the majesty of it all if you over-indulged?

Priest muttering to himself as he reads the Bible, long sigh… “Here we go again, the Lord speaking eternal wisdom… a leper healed with only a touch…I can’t even get rid of a rash with a prescription…”

The Pope, having been a priest at one time, at least I think that’s how it was explained to me in catechism, hatched a plan. Spend a few years in the minors honing your skills with potlucks, bingo, and the occasional youth ski trip and if you don’t mess that up you might make Bishop and get bumped up to the AA club, where you get a nice new ring for people to kiss. Spend a few years there and eventually, if you look good in red, you reach the AAA – Cardinals.

There you bide your time coaching first or third base until the owner (God) decides He wants to shake things up a little and calls the head coach (Pope) up to the big house (Heaven) for some R and R (he’s dead). The assistant coach whacks the head coach on the melon with a silver hammer to make sure he’s not faking his R and R. If the head coach passes this test, by remaining dead, the Cardinals and Bishops have a slumber party and play truth or dare until white smoke billows out of the Vatican.

Now that the, “Was the Pope ever a Priest?” question has been answered, let us move on. The Pope is milling around the Vatican thinking back to his days in the minors, washing down bland food with watered down wine, the constant fear of contracting dandruff…. He decides that since he’s the Pope, he’s going to do something about it before he gets whacked with the above-mentioned silver hammer.

So, what’s he do? Confession. The priests aren’t supposed to be drunkards, murderers, cheaters, lovers, haters, and so forth and so on so why not have them lend an ear to the ‘ers’ and ‘ards’ type people. How can we get these people to share their unsavory activities with the last person on earth they would like to share them with besides their great grandmother? We’ll put a screen between you, so you can’t see each other blush.

You get to brag about your ‘ways’ for the price of a few Hail Mary’s and an Our Father. You feel cleansed the priest feels nauseous, everyone is happy. I have attempted to contact the Pope in regards to my theory but he has chosen to remain silent on the matter. In the world of conspiracy silence is proof of existence…along with denial.

Now all you non-Catholic kids know what they were teaching us in the basement of the church every Wednesday after school as we dined on scotcharoos and Kool-Aid. “They” being a couple moms, mine included, who were doing their best to give us a little direction in life.

My theory of quasi-conspiracy demonstrates there may have been a bit of a difference between what I was taught and what I learned but as the song goes, “Momma tried… Momma tried…”