Shadows appear in full daylight, even in San Telmo's San Pedro church

     Is it sin or is it a maverick gene? You think that of all places the church should be the repository of goodness. Yet there is a fiber in you that quivers slightly, in doubt. The quiver grows and turns into something like convulsions when you enter the magistic San Pedro church, just a hop, skip and jump from the historic Dorego square, in San Telmo, the colonial district of Buenos Aires. Your eyes catch the slogans "honor" and "gloria" at the altar, while your mind reviews a disturbing report you just read in the press. It seems that Alberto Angel Zanchetta, former naval chaplain for the Argentine Navy’s detention center at ESMA, under the military dictatorship, now listens to sinner's confessions at the church.

    If you feel a bit undone, you notice the first signs of nausea when you skim through Horacio Verbitsky’s book, "El vuelo," which includes a confession of former naval captain Adolfo Scilingo who mentions how political prisoners at ESMA were put to sleep and thrown from airplanes into the sea. After helping throw the prisoners to their death, Scilingo apparently felt he needed spiritual comfort and went to see the naval chaplain.

   Although Zanchetta now confesses believers at the church in San Telmo, he still gets some $5,000 pesos ($1,200) monthly from the Navy, according to an August 23 article in the morning paper, "Página 12." Perhaps that offsets to some extent the lack of church goers at San Pedro, more visited by curious tourists than true believers. In any event, confessing an ordinary sin to a religious authority who gave comfort to those who tortured or killed political prisoners would not seem to be an adequate diet for anyone suffering from stomach disorders. You might also feel a bit relieved to discover that military authorities are reviewing Zanchetta’s monthly payments...