Poetry: I have sinned
This poem was made in December 2020 as part of a final project for a class where I studied The Madres de la Plaza de Mayo movement and the impacts of the military dictatorship on Argentina. This is a fictional poem, inspired by studying the events in Argentine history and realizing this poem is a part of an exploration of the effects on my understanding of the world.
I Have Sinned
In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit. Amen.
Bless me father, for I have sinned.
Father, I come to you today
To complete the sacrament of reconciliation
To ask for forgiveness
In the hope of receiving
some help
some guidance.
You see father...
I’ve been reflecting
on my many years on this earth
The places I have been
The people I have met
Those I have supported
And those I let down
I haven’t always been the holy man that people expected me to be
the holy man that I am now.
I often question if I deserve the respect
The honor
That I’ve been given.
I still wake up feeling unworthy of it.
I ask God, most days
If not every day
Why
He bestowed
This burden
This blessing
On me.
Something that I did years ago, back in Argentina, is weighing on my conscience today...
During the junta, the militaristic government, some of the leaders came to me
They asked me to point out the radicals in the church
And I… I told them.
I pointed them out
I sentenced them to an undeserved death,
Not even asking for 30 pieces of silver.
I sentenced pious Christian men to death as if it were nothing.
I justified it at the time,
justified the unjustifiable.
Now, I realize
How wrong I was.
I was an ally to those who committed crimes against humanity. Guilty.
By being silent, I gave them the legitimacy they needed to continue.
I was the embodiment of complicity.
I have now read about the atrocities that they committed against
My brothers and sisters in Christ
Against my peers, against people that I held dear to my heart
I am struggling to live with the pain that I inflicted on them
The pain that I could have stopped
The pain that I allowed to continue
I felt powerless with the junta in charge, and so I tried to give myself power
I played with God’s plan
I thought I was doing the best I could.
I know now that all of this was wrong
I played with fire
And I haven’t been burned
Yet.
Not in this life
Perhaps once this life is done
They call me Francis the humble,
They call me good
Saintly even.
And yet, I am more flawed than all of them
More flawed than they could ever imagine.
So I ask you today, father, to guide me
Help me find forgiveness
Help me connect with the Holy Father
Please.
I am sorry for these and all my sins.
In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit.
Amen.
