Skinny Dipping and Confession
Bless me Father, was that sin?
In high school, I always worked at least one job. During the school year, I worked at one of the local restaurants cooking and washing dishes. Over the summer, I would drop down to just Saturday and Sunday at the restaurant, and spend the weekdays working on a farm. One summer I detasseled corn, another summer I hoed melons.
The summer I was 16, I spent the summer working in a melon field. It can be hard work, but even on the best days, it’s one of the hottest jobs I’ve ever had. There were a lot of days when the temperature was near 100, the humidity was high, and there was no breeze. The only thing that mattered on days like that was finding ways to cool off.
The melon field I worked in was less than a mile from Twin Lakes, a small, lake resort a few miles from town. One afternoon, after deciding it was just too hot to eat, I decided to head over to Twin Lakes for my lunch break.
There was one spot on the lake I liked that was fairly close to the melon field. It was away from the resort, off the paved road, and fairly secluded. The only person I knew of that was even aware this spot existed, was Father Melmer, our local priest. The church owned the land next to that part of the lake.
When I got to the lake, I threw my clothes in a pile on the beach and jumped into the water. That feeling of jumping into cool water, especially on a hot summer day, is one of the best feelings in the world. It doesn’t matter what may have gone wrong, once my naked body hits the cool water all is well in my world.
I had been swimming for a while that afternoon. Since my lunch was only an hour, I decided it was probably about time to get dressed and go back to work. As I got closer to the shore, I heard a car pull up.
At first, I didn’t think too much of it. The spot I was at on the lake is tough to get in and out of, the paths leading to the water are all overgrown. If you don’t know this spot, it doesn’t look very inviting when you arrive. Whoever pulled up wouldn’t be staying longer than a minute. About the time I thought I should be hearing the car leave, I realized I could hear voices, and one of them sounded very familiar.
“Patrik, what are you doing clear out here?”
It was Father Melmer, and with him were Sister Catherine, Sister Benigna, and Sister Ruth. I was naked in Twin Lakes and standing on the shore, between me and my clothes, was our local priest and three nuns. I didn’t know what to do, or what to say. I was pretty sure God was having a good time punishing me for something, and whatever it was I did must have been pretty awful.
While my soul was dying inside, I tried acting all nonchalant on the outside. But just exactly how does one act nonchalant while trying to conceal their naked body from a priest and three nuns?
I had spent quite a bit of time with Father Melmer while I was growing up. He was a good priest and a better man. There was one thing he loved to do, and that was talk. He could talk to anyone, anywhere, about any topic. All I wanted was for him to be quiet and leave, but he had other plans.
I did my best to either ignore his questions or give him short, disinterested answers. After what felt like hours, but was probably closer to three or four minutes, Sister Catherine walked over and picked up my clothes. She looked at the clothes; then she looked at me; then she looked at Father Melmer.
Sister Catherine folded each article of clothing neatly and placed them on a rock near the water.
I let myself sink beneath the water and stayed there as long as I possibly could. I briefly considered inhaling deeply and just letting myself drown. When I finally poked my head above water, Father and the three nuns were almost to his car.
The following Saturday, as I did every Saturday, I went to confession. When I finished confessing my sins, Father Melmer said, “Well now, my son, is there anything else?” I wasn’t sure what to say. I was silent for a few seconds, then finally asked, “If I do something I don’t believe is wrong, but someone else may think is a sin, do I have to confess it?”
Father was quiet for a bit, and then asked me to be a little more specific, “What type of thing is it you are asking about?”
Being the brave, teenage boy I was, I just put it right out there. “Oh I don’t know, just stuff, you know.”
Father chuckled, “Well let me just say this. On a dreadfully hot day, if one finds a good way to cool off that isn’t hurting anybody, that probably isn’t a sin.”
With that, I left the confession booth and headed off to Twin Lakes. After all, it was a dreadfully hot day.
