“I am a sinner. Please forgive me.”
Such simple words.
So powerful.
But what gives them this power? Is it the sincerity? The resignation? The confidence? The desperation? The self-realization? Or is it just the humility to acknowledge that one has slipped up, and needs help?
Whatever be the emotion behind these words, there’s no denying that they call out to the listener. Fill his heart with compassion. Captivate him with their eloquence. Remind him that he too is human, and prone to err.
But it’s the greatest gift of them all. For with these simple words, one seeks absolution, and with them, one feels himself pulled to the Bosom of the Good Lord.
For the response that follows, be it in Latin, or Greek, or English, or any other tongue known to man, offers the sweetest relief imaginable:
“Ego te absolvo in nominee Patris et Fillee et Spiritus Sanctii.”
“I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.”
And a dying man will know peace, and feel himself lifted, and secure.
For man is a fickle creature, in need of constant reassurance that he is headed to a better place. That there is peace and happiness in the afterlife. That the Lord created him in His own image, and so a part of Him he is.
Call it folly. Call is blind faith. Call it what you will. But the greatness of our forefathers, who conceptualized this ritual, cannot be denied. For with one sentence, they put the dying man and his kith and kin in a state of peace, drawing the anguish out like sucking out a snake’s venom.
The quest for peace, ends, with success.
