Did the relic emit fragrance? Had there been verification by ordeal? Had it caused a miraculous healing? Finally, had the saint permitted it to be stolen from its shrine? The correct term was “translation.” There was a logic to it: Saints were living beings, even dead. No saint, or member of the Holy Family, would permit his or her relic to be translated from one owner to another unless they favored relocation.

Christopher Buckley, son of William F. Buckley, has made a career of writing satirical novels about the modern world. Now (perhaps because modern life has begun to outstrip the most outrageous satire) he has turned his eyes to the 16th Century in his marvelous – and surprisingly sweet and inspirational – novel, The Relic Master. It’s still satire, but it’s also an insightful, exciting, funny, and informational book.

Dismas is a Swiss, a former soldier and a widower. He lives in Germany and makes his living as a relic master, procuring relics for two different, and competing, clients. His favorite is his uncle, Elector Frederick III, a man of piety and good taste. The other is Archbishop Albrecht of Mainz, a greedy and corrupt man.

Dismas is an ethical relic master. He never buys anything he knows to be fraudulent – which sometimes displeases Albrecht.

But one day Dismas’ world is turned upside down, and in desperation he enters into a conspiracy with his friend Albrecht Durer (the famous painter) to create a false Holy Shroud (like the Shroud of Turin) and sell it to Albrecht. This sets him on a course that will find him trekking across Germany and Savoy in the company of Durer, three brutish Landsknechte mercenaries, and a charming girl they rescue from witch hunters. The Relic Master is a historical caper novel, enlivened by much humor, appealing (and surprising) characters, and genuine faith concerns.

I’m always a little leery of books about this particular period, because there was so much casual cruelty going on that novelists have trouble resisting a good, explicit scene of torture or execution. Such matters aren’t ignored in this book, but Buckley keeps them on the periphery. What he presents on center stage is (mostly) rollicking fun.

On top of that, religious matters are treated perceptively and seriously. I understand the author is a lapsed Catholic, but if he’s abandoned faith he at least remembers what it feels like. I’d go further and say that The Relic Master is one of the best Christian novels I’ve read in some time. (It’s pretty evenhanded about the Reformation, though I’d say the Protestants win on points.)

Highly recommended, with cautions for language and adult themes.