"In Nomine Patris"
Title: "In nomine Patris" (In the Name of the Father)
Author: Austenfan
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: none- generic Chase
Description: What caused Chase to drop out of seminary? What test did he fail?

Author's Notes: I am not Catholic and haven't been to Catholic seminary, so I don't know if I messed anything up from that end. Any feedback, including improvements to make, things to tinker with, is appreciated.

"Et Filis, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen." rang out a clear tenor, finishing the Mass. Then instead of shaking hands with the five elderly women that had come to Vespers, the young blonde priest in training went into the sacristy to disrobe and to help the residing priest, Father Thomas, with the consecration of the elements that would be distributed to the sick. He couldn't consecrate the elements himself yet, that would only come after ordination, but he could say the prayers with Father Thomas and prepare himself for the time that he would be able to do it himself.

It was one of his favourite things about being a priest, he realized, a hint of a smile playing about his lips. The idea of being able to restore and make sacred- that was the idea behind consecration; setting apart, restoring things into union with God, turning the secular into the sacred.

Too bad that didn't work with... he left the thought unfinished. Going down that path was unproductive, and would only serve to let the darkness into his soul rather than expunging it.

Since Father Thomas still hadn't arrived, Robert decided that he would light a candle in the meantime. Offering light and prayers. Those are things that I can do that offer hope, rather than focusing I what I can't do and letting in the darkness.. Trembling hands lit the candle and murmured the familiar prayer.

A gentle hand laid on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. "My son. It is time to consecrate the elements."

Robert slowly nodded and followed the priest. As they said the prayers together, turning the mundane elements of wafers and wine into the actual physical presence of the Lord; he felt at peace. A feeling of belonging and security swept over his soul. He prayed that these elements would confer the same sense of peace and security to those to whom they were being distributed.

Next, he was on to the confessional. First knelt at the altar rail and prayed his confession. The soothing sounds of the ancient Latin prayer rolled over his tongue. Confiteor Deo omnipotenti, beatae Mariae semper Virgini, beato Michaeli Archangelo, beato Joanni Baptistae, sanctis Apostolis Petro et Paulo, omnibus Sanctis, et tibi Pater: quia peccavi nimis cogitatione verbo, et opere:. Here the young man obediently paused and struck his chest with his fist three times as a means of self-flagellation and acknowledging responsibility. mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. Ideo precor beatam Mariam semper Virginem, beatum Michaelem Archangelum, beatum Joannem Baptistam, sanctos Apostolos Petrum et Paulum, omnes Sanctos, et te Pater, orare pro me ad Dominum Deum Nostrum. For my faults, my faults, my most grievous faults, I ask the blessed Virgin, the Archangel Michael, John the Baptist, Peter and Paul all the saints and angels and my brothers and sisters to pray to God for me.

Robert's heard the priest say, "May almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you all your sins, and bring you to everlasting life. Amen." Then in a more conversational tone, with just the hint of a chuckle, "You do realize Robert, that you don't actually have to beat your breast. And that Our Lord, does hear prayers in English as well as Latin?"

The young man flushed a little and gave a self-deprecating grin. "Mea culpa, Padre."

The drew a chuckle from the older man who patted Robert on the shoulder and said, "All right, one more outburst like that and you'll be on dish duty for a week."

Robert chuckled. He liked Father Thomas and his easy-going personality and quick wit. And although Father Thomas would tease him, he did seem to recognize Robert's need for the flagellation and Latin. Recognize it, but not necessarily understand it. Robert couldn't quite understand it himself. He thought that perhaps if he said that prayer often enough and pounded his breast hard enough he could actually mean everything that he said and the forgiveness and restoration that he received afterward would be pure and genuine. There was a part of his soul that always questioned that forgiveness was real.

Now, as he was nearing the end of his seminary training, Father Thomas had suggested that he take part in some confessions, and the giving of absolution. It was almost as if the older man somehow knew that forgiveness was something that Robert struggled with. He listened with Father Thomas to a few confessions from older parishioners of the Cathedral who had been informed that a soon to be ordained priest would be listening and learning how to take confession and how to dispense absolution. Robert was amazed at the way in which the older man lovingly, and patiently listened to the cares and concerns of his flock. The way that people felt safe and not judged. The way in which absolution was gently and graciously dispensed.

Then a gentleman came and knelt down for confession. Robert could just make out the impression of the suit behind the screened latticework. "Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been four years since my last confession."

As soon as the man started to speak, Robert felt the walls of the confessional start to close in around him. What was He doing here? The blood drained from Robert's face, he broke out in a cold sweat and all that he could seem to do to hang onto his sanity was to keep fingering the rosary.

Father Thomas looked over at Robert with concern, but also kept his attention fixed to the confessor. Infidelity, selfishness, not being a good enough father. Pretty standard. As Father Thomas went to pronounce the absolution, Robert grabbed the older man's arm. "You Can't do that!" he hissed desperately. "What do you mean, my son?" At the mere sound of the word Robert jerked away as if he had been slapped. Immediate recognition and sadness shone in the older man's eyes. "If a penitent comes willingly and makes their confession, we grant them absolution."

"But the confession isn't genuine." Robert muttered angrily. The blue-green eyes that previously had been serene and even some mirth, now clouded over with a deep darkness.

Father Thomas slowly nodded his head and put a hand on Robert's shoulder. "That is not for us to determine. Forgiveness and grace are free. I think perhaps that the test of your faith has come. Will you offer the words of absolution to this sinner?"

Robert's lips felt suddenly dry and his throat tight and raw. He licked his lips and started to open his mouth. All he had to do was mouth the words. If he could utter them then he would be free. That's all he had to do.

"Son?" came the cracked voice of the penitent.

Robert didn't know what to do. If he uttered the words that would lead him to the priesthood then the words would be hollow, because he didn't mean them or even want to have them be true in this case. He would have his own life but it would be a shell because all the reality of the sacraments would have washed away. If he could mouth the words of forgiveness without the act of forgiveness then maybe there wasn't any Real forgiveness. No forgiveness for his father, no forgiveness for himself.

He sighed, handed his crucifix , collar, and rosary to Father Thomas. "Forgive Me Father." he said in a quiet and resigned voice and made his way out of the confessional, back to the dormitory to pack for the trip home.