May God give you pardon and peace and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Mackay prayed over the dying Marchmain would have been in Latin, of course, but our contemporary English words of absolution are as powerful as any ever written: 'God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. The rending of the veil of the Temple, like the crucifixion it completed, happened once and for all, yet in the three days that begin tonight, we believe that we can yet participate anew in this great mystery, not as a bystander asking for a sign, but as a disciple who has already acknowledged that to which the sign refers. And a phrase came back to me from my childhood, of the veil of the temple being rent from top to bottom. Then I knew the sign I had asked for was not a little thing, not a passing nod of recognition. I prayed more simply: 'God forgive him his sins and please, God, make him accept your forgiveness.' So small a thing to ask. It seemed such a small thing that was asked - the bare acknowledgement of a present. 'God, if there is a God, forgive him his sins, if there is such a thing as sin.' I suddenly felt the longing for a sign, if only of courtesy, if only for the sake of the woman I loved who knelt, I knew, praying for a sign. The narrator of the tale, Charles Ryder, who had not wanted to call for a priest at all, who had framed that decision as a choice between science and superstition, nonetheless prayed for a sign: Mackay, who gives the last rites and says the words of absolution. In the climactic scene of the novel Brideshead Revisited, the dying Lord Marchmain, so long the scoffer, so long unwilling to admit that his pleasure was a sin, is unconscious and his daughter brings in a priest, Fr. He has been raised' - are as familiar as any words in Scripture, yet they still pack a punch. The words of the Easter triduum - 'Take and eat, for this is my body,' 'My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?' 'Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here. I admit to a certain bias, but I think words are always powerful. Monday night, we were reminded that fire can destroy, as flames spread across the roof of Notre Dame Cathedral, filling our souls with sadness instead of light. The great Easter Vigil starts with the lighting of the sacred fire, which pierces the darkness of the night and of sin, illuminating our hearts with divine love as it fills our churches with light that flickers off the mosaics and shines through the stained glass.

Sacred fire symbol