Hell

In Poul Anderson's Mother Of Kings (New York, 2003), the English priest, Aelfgar, nags Queen Gunnhild about how many holy days of obligation she has missed and terrifies his congregation with sin, souls, the Pit and fire. I recognise this from my upbringing and am so glad that I did not pass it on to my daughter. She and her daughter are free of all that. Such indoctrination could only have harmed them. I know them and I also know those doctrines from the inside out so I think that I know what was best for my daughter's upbringing. As part of her religious education, I gave her a Bible and a Life of the Buddha.

Back to the novel: sufficiently terrified, Gunnhild's accomplice and partner in crime wants to confess his sins to the priest but she forbids him to do so just yet. She believes that the priest, while of course remaining professionally discrete about any sins confessed to him by Gunnhild's servant, would nevertheless call her in about her part in those sins and, if she remained unrepentant, refusing some suitable penance like a long pilgrimage, might write to the bishop, getting her banned by the Church, with major political implications.

I do not think so. My understanding of the Seal of Confession is that, whatever the servant divulged to Aelfagar, the latter would be obliged not to mention it to anyone else, not to Gunnhild, not to the bishop. Aelfgar's dealings with Gunnhild would have to continue as if he had not heard anything about her in her servant's confession. So I understand.

I was brought up to believe that the Seal of Confession was an absolute confidentiality that had never been broken and never could be but I do not know the history of the subject. Googling might reveal something. Has the Seal ever been broken? Were there times when it was not applied as strictly as I have always understood that it was? I need to turn in for an early start tomorrow so I leave blog viewers with those questions to ponder.