Midnight Mass

"I'm a murderer, Father. I have killed three people in the past week." The voice came from behind the screen of the confessional.,

Father William Ritter's heart started pounding, and he wiped a rivulet of sweat from his forehead. This man was the third person in a row to confess to being murderer. What was going on? William repeated the prayer he'd whispered the last two times he'd heard those words.

"Please, Lord, give me the words of comfort and enlightenment Your beloved child needs to hear. Give me an extra share of Your wisdom so I can minister compassionately." He paused, waiting. For what, he didn't really know, but he hoped he would feel something from God.

A moment later, still feeling empty, he continued with his prayer. "I don't know why I feel so far from You, but I need You more than ever now. Please help me, if You are really there. Please help me see the wall I've built between us. Restore my faith. Help me!" The last was more of a cry of anguish than a request for any specific help.

William had wanted to pass the first murder confession off as a prank, but when the second penitent, a woman, confessed, he knew he couldn't. She had cried. Deep, racking sobs that made it clear that her soul was in torment.

He shook his head to clear the memory. When he thought he was ready to speak, he tried to keep his voice level and calm, even though his emotions were in a whirlpool.

"My son, this is a very serious sin."

"I know, Father. That's why I want to come back to the Church. I want to stop killing."

William took a deep breath. Sweat poured down his face, and his hands felt clammy. If he thought too much about this man killing someone, he wouldn't be able to help him. 

Involuntarily, he began wondering: Had his niece been killed? She'd been missing for two weeks. If she had been killed, would her murderer ever go to confession? He fingered the missing person poster with Amanda's picture. He'd been using it to mark a place in his Bible.

He shook his head. This line of thinking wouldn't help the man on the other side of the screen. He forced himself to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"You want to come back to the Church? What has brought you to this decision, my son?"

The man was silent for a moment. "I always considered myself a Catholic, Father, but I got involved with...well, you know."

The other two penitents had said similar things, but William still didn't know what they were talking about. "What do you mean, my son? What have you gotten involved with?"

"The killings. At first, I didn't want to, but as time went on, it felt so good. So powerful. I couldn't stop, Father. I couldn't help myself. But I think the Church can help me."

That was something. Father took a deep breath. "The Church wants to help you, my son. However, you have to take responsibility for your crimes. Are you prepared to make restitution?"

"Yes, Father."

"I can't force you to go to the police, but you must promise to do that before you can receive absolution."

The man on the other side of the screen was silent for several moments. Finally, he said, "Yes, Father. I will go to the police."

"It won't be easy, but you must live with the consequences of your deeds. Do you know if the people you killed had families?" He didn't wait for any response because he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"It is your duty to find out, and if these people were responsible for others, you must take that responsibility upon yourself to the extent that you are able. You must provide for the families financially as far as is possible. Do you understand?"