I absolve you, pilgrim...

PalmIt must be acknowledged that the Church is improving its facilities, and that today's confessionals are, at first glance, considerably more comfortable than those of the past. In the past, confessionals were usually rather precarious wooden booths, sometimes thickened, within which the priest had to squeeze himself as best he could. For their part, the parishioners almost always had to kneel to one side of the booth, often in full view of everyone, and therefore with their privacy and confidentiality compromised. They chatted quietly through the barred shutter, yes, but the result could hardly be said to be a triumph of discretion: everyone knew whether So-and-so had gone to confession, and then it was all conjecture and rumor. Even spectacular cases could occur, such as that of the confessional at the end of The Regent, which almost literally blew up in the air due to the pressure of the illicit desire that the masterful Fermín de Paso felt for Ana, the protagonist of the novel (The Regent It was a novel that was usually read in high school in the subject of Spanish Language and Literature, I don't know if it is still used).

On the other hand, this one we see in a photo by Ismael Velázquez, taken in a church in Palma, already offers more upscale amenities. It's like a triptych of cubicles, in which the priest reserves the central cubicle and has two—one on each side—for the devout who wish to confess. The parishioners' cubicles are also covered, with the consequent and decisive improvement this brings to the privacy of those who come. The one on the right is open, and we can see that it offers a kneeler and even a banquette, so that the person who comes to confess their sins can kneel, and even sit, comfortably. The priest sits in a small but apparently comfortable office chair, and in front of him is a shelf, also discreet, which he uses to take notes or make drawings while the sinner on duty recounts venial or mortal sins. It even has a free-standing fan or cooler, which with this summer's temperatures is certainly appreciated, even though churches tend to be places where it's pleasant to be, with the dimness and coolness. It's not clear whether the air from the cooler also reaches the parishioners, but it's also true that they shouldn't spend much time in the confessional unless they're confessing to the confessor, who can do it all day. Also unclear is the possibility that the priest can confess two people at once, one on each side, like those chess players who are capable of playing simultaneous games.

Confession is one of the sacraments of the Catholic Church, which is supposed to administer it for the purpose of saving the souls of those who receive it. Confession par excellence is the one that precedes extreme unction, by which the believer, at the moment before death, asks for forgiveness for the sins he has committed throughout his life and prepares to go straight to heaven. It is said that the famous banker and smuggler Joan March, Verga, asked for it on his deathbed, and that, once he received absolution at the last moment for all his sins—which were neither few nor small—he breathed: "This has been the best deal of my life," he is said to have said.

Offer of confession and absolution

Now that we have confessionals that meet the most demanding standards, we need to consider what service we can provide to tourism, the main tenet of faith and the reason for these islands' existence. (For example, if they are caught by a balcony or suffer some kind of poisoning, they could be a welcome addition to an excellent vacation package, such as those always offered by the Balearic tourism sector. Some priests, as it is worth remembering now that the Civil War has been going on for years.