Dark Yule ...Part 3
― Iris Murdoch
Victoria Woods
I light a candle and watch the flame flutter in the red glass votive cup.
I haven’t lived yet, not really, and already the dream is dying—St.Tristan’s is dying, and nobody cares. The diocese will close the doors and board the windows—put a fence about it and demolish it—or worse, sell it to a developer who’ll turn it into a restaurant, as they did to St. Dunstan’s last year.
In the darkened church I’m praying again for guidance—not for some divine intervention regarding the parish, but wisdom regarding my own vocation.
I no longer feel called to be a priest.
The Angelus bells peal softly.
Within the hour, there’ll be a small gathering of people for Vespers—the mere thought causes my heart to leap—not for the evening liturgy as such, but because I know Victoria Woods will attend.
I won’t be able to talk to her though—I’ll hear confessions for an hour afterwards—but still, I’ll be able see her, and that will be enough.
Immediately, the guilt begins and I pray and ask forgiveness, knowing full well I’ll have the same thoughts tomorrow night and all the nights after that, until I’m transferred or she leaves—but the thought of never seeing her again is too painful to even contemplate.
And so, I also ask forgiveness for that, and my whole life for that matter.
“Bless me Father for I have sinned…”
My stomach flips when I hear the soft voice and see dimly through the grate her lovely profile.
“It’s been a week since my last confession. These are my sins.”
I feel like Hamlet watching Ophelia pray.
Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remember’d.
I grimace inwardly. She should pray for me.
“I’ve committed a very grave sin, Father. I’ve entertained desires toward a man who is promised to someone else.”
“I see.”
I should ask for details, but can’t, since I suspect that other man is me.
“Have you acted upon these desires—enticed this man in any way or offered an invitation to sin?”
She casts her eyes low and whispers, “No, Father.”
“Then, you must pray and ask the Lord to help you overcome temptation and, of course, you must avoid the near occasions of sin in the future.”
“Yes, Father.”
“For your penance, pray The Lord’s Prayer, and now, make a good act of contrition.”
I listen to her pray in the singsong voice the nuns must have taught her.
O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you, and I detest all my sins, because of Your just punishments, but most of all because they offend You, my God, who are
all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen.
I describe the sign of the cross over her with my right hand while sighing, "Ego te absolvo."
Silently, I add my own caveat, so far as my power allows and your needs require.
As I watch her leave, I slide the grate and whisper another prayer, O Lord, forgive me.