Poland and Religion Part I: The Catholic Church

Now that I've spent some time writing about Polish politics, I feel like it's time to wade into the other thing you shouldn't discuss in polite company, namely religion, precisely because it plays a big role in both Polish life and in Western perception of Polish life. This is particularly relevant today, as it is the Feast of Corpus Christi, or Bożego Ciała. In Part 1, I will discuss the Catholic Church, and in the second part, I will discuss Polish-Jewish affairs.

According to the most widely-accepted numbers, around 90% of the people in this country identify themselves as Catholic. When you add to that the smaller numbers of people identifying as Orthodox or some flavor of Protestant, there are very, very few self-identified atheists here. The Catholic Church has long played a very important role in Polish life, and is intimately tied to Polish identity. The reason for this is historical: in the 120-odd years where Poland did not exist on the map, the Polish nation was held together by language, by shared history and literature, and by religion. During Communism, while the authorities tried their best to destroy the Church, they did not succeed, and the Church was perhaps the most important center of resistance against the PRL government. I've heard that even many people who did not believe during communist times went to church anyway, as a form of protest. Indeed, when Karol Wojtyła was elected as Pope John Paul II and shortly thereafter visited Poland, one of the powers-that-were reportedly said something like "We're finished."

In this odd way, the Church in Poland has actually been a disruptive, revolutionary force. They were the ones who had the size and influence to stick it to the man and yet endure. Church and State have been separate for most of the last 200 years, as they were almost always enemies. But now the Church faces the same dilemma everybody else in Poland does, namely, what next? The Church is even "established", that is, it receives public money. The few times I've gone to mass in Poland I've been surprised at how casually the basket gets passed around: I've been at the back of a church and not even gotten a chance to give the church money. Publicly-funded universities and other institutions prominently display crosses in prominent rooms: the Politechnika, for instance, has a cross in the faculty senate room of the chemistry department. Historically, the ties go even deeper. During interregnum periods of the Polish monarchy (which could last a while particularly in the period where Polish kings were elected by a parliament which had to be assembled for just this purpose), the Primate of Poland was the regent. Poland even had it's own St. Thomas a Becket moment. King Bolesław II Śmiały lub/i Oktrutny (Boleslaus the Bold and/or Cruel) got really, really annoyed with Archbishop of Kraków Stanisław Szczepanowski and said something along the lines of "will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?" but according to legend, unlike the wimpy King Henry II of England, Bolesław II boldly went where no king had gone before, posed this question rhetorically, and personally put the "Martyr" in St. Stanisław the Martyr in the archbishop's own cathedral.

Corpus Christi was not just a church event but a civic one, with the mayor, a platoon of soldiers, the municipal bus and tram company, the police and fire departments all taking part in a massive mass held in the main square under St. Mary's Basilica. A choir finished singing a Te Deum as the bell of St. Mary's chimed noon. The choir fell silent, and a trumpeter in one of the church's spires started playing the hourly trumpet call (Heynał Mariacki), a piece that is a symbol of Kraków in particular and the Polish nation in general, so much so that the noon edition of said call is played on the radio around the nation every day. Usually, the square bustles with activity, even as the trumpeter is playing, and rarely does it happen that the square is full of people who are all listening to the Heynał at once. It was a moving moment, or would have been had the priest running the service not been in such a hurry: his amplified voice drowned out the last few bars of the trumpet call, much to my irritation. For you Americans who have been to Arlington National Cemetery, imagine, if you will, hearing Taps at the Tomb of the Unknowns, about the only location where you can regularly get 200 Americans to be quiet, only to have a loudspeaker come to life right behind you as the trumpeter is about to finish. I'm sure those listening on the radio heard it too, and I wouldn't be surprised if the leader of the opposition ends up going into his usual theatrics about how this is yet more proof that Prime Minister Tusk doesn't love Poland or something.

This coexistence between a civic, patriotic tradition (the Heynał) and a religious one, containing elements of both harmony and dissonance, was strangely symbolic. Almost every primarily religious event I've gone to has had strong patriotic overtones ("God Save the Polish Church" was one of the pieces in today's repertoire), and as I mentioned in my previous post about May 3rd, every patriotic event has had strong religious overtones. John Paul II is not only seen as a great Pope, but as a great Pole. He's Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr. and Billy Graham all rolled into one. Yet in spite of all this, the Church is in more trouble that many outside observers might think.

While over 90% of the populace is nominally Catholic, church attendance is another matter. In conservative areas such as the south of Poland (including Kraków), around 70% of people attend church regularly. However, in the more liberal areas in north and west in cities such as Poznań and Szczeczin, church attendance is only about 35%. The homily of every priest I've ever heard here in Poland, from the parish priest to the Archbishop of Kraków, has revolved around the importance of faith in the modern world, despite the pressures of secularization. Following the primary homily today, I heard a second one, a priest painting a nightmare scenario of churches used only as monuments or historical curiosities, parents not allowed to raise their children in the way they see fit, among other things. What he'd just described was most of Europe.

That the Church is worried about these things, and trying hard to preempt them, suggests that their position is precarious. I asked a few friends of mine whether or not the Church wielded any temporal power or influence. A few of them, the more secular-minded, snorted and said of course not. A few, who were more religious said "well, not so fast, they're pretty important" and only one person, who was Jewish, said that the Church was far too important and that was a bad thing. What's interesting is that in some ways this is the reverse of the United States, where those who are religious fear that religion is losing its influence on public life, whereas many atheists fear that religion is far too important and must be opposed at all hazards. I've also heard that each Diocese handles politics differently, with some areas favoring a "let Caesar mind Caesar's business and we'll mind ours" approach, others saying "Caesar makes decisions that are our business and others that aren't" and others going into full-on "vote this way, dammit" mode. Today, the Cardinal Archbishop of Kraków actually delved into politics, essentially taking the Enlightenment approach that rights are derived from God and not from any earthly parliament. He then talked about how the natural laws of God are supreme, above those made by parliament. So when the Polish parliament wants to pass laws allowing in vitro fertilization and same-sex marriage, and manage how parents are allowed to educate their children, it is the duty of all true Catholics to stand up to the forces that would wreck the Church, and by extension, ruin Poland. I know many bishops around the world think exactly the same way, but rarely have I seen this opinion put so bluntly in so public a place.

It looks like the Church is warming to the theme of secularism as its largest enemy, and by that same token the enemy of the Polish people. The question is, as Poland secularizes, are these sorts of arguments going to be convincing or not? What happens if the Polish government allows taxpayers to opt out of giving their share of taxes to the Church, and people suddenly realize that they've been paying for the Church all this time? Will religion continue to be tied at the hip with Polishness? What about the new generation, which does not equate Catholicism with opposition to tyranny but rather a long string of "Thou shalt nots"? I think in the West there is sometimes a tendency to see the Catholic Church in Poland as monolithic and powerful, because compared to the rest of Europe, it is. However, that doesn't mean that the Church is fully and completely comfortable or in control.

May 3rd

There's an old joke in the States: "is there the Fourth of July in Europe?" The answer to which is, "of course! Where isn't their one?" The reverse of this joke would be to ask if there was a May 3rd in the U.S.

May 3, 1791 was the day that the Sejm (parliament) approved a new constitution that attempted to repair the damaged Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, which had already been partitioned twice and would end up being partitioned entirely out of existence just four years later. So ultimately the Sejm failed in its ultimate goal, but they failed heroically whilst fighting against impossible odds, which is the thread that unites almost all Polish heroes.

Now, May 1st is Labor Day in Poland and is a day off of work. As May 3rd is also a day off of work most people take May 2nd off as well. In effect, it was a five-day weekend that for many turned into a week of vacation, usually spent in the hills or in some other city.

Normally, Americans love to wave the flag around. I usually amuse people here when I remark that in the States, your average gas station or car dealership will have one if not several flags flying. At the University of Pittsburgh it is possible to stand in one spot and see four flags flying, from the museum, the University, a private club and the University hospital. A fifth one is just out of sight at the Soldiers and Sailors memorial hall. That's not usually the case here: while institutions have flagpoles or flag holders, they are actually seldom used. Until there's a national holiday and everybody uses them. The contrast was stunning, and I would argue there was more flag waving on May 3rd than on July 4th in the States.

The festivities themselves were actually somewhat subdued. The army, police, and fire department set up displays on the Błonia, a huge patch of grass to the west of downtown. However, because that green is so huge, the displays only occupied about 5% of it and therefore looked tiny by comparison. There was also not much of a crowd checking these displays out, at least when I was there. Perhaps the biggest contrast for me was that a standard American Fourth of July will draw out a bunch of NGOs and other civic organizations like  the 4H club, Rotary International, The Shriners wearing fezes on goofy toy cars, "The Old Geezers Model-T club" or "Pre-hipsters on Penny Farthing bicycles" or "The Lawn Rangers Precision Lawnmower Drill Team." Here, all of the celebrants seemed very official and government-backed.

What did draw a crowd was the 16th Battalion's marching band, which performed on the Rynek or main square. This concert answered a burning question of mine, which is, what do bands perform at patriotic events if not Sousa? The answer was, ironically, Sousa: the Gladiator March was a part of the repertoire.

It appears that Poland has not yet been introduced to the concept of a college football halftime show, featuring college bands playing peppy popular tunes whilst marching in formations resembling stars, flags, letters that say "GO STATE" and so forth. This is not something typically performed by military bands or formations in the States on the Fourth of July because most Americans would think it looked silly. This particular band was not aware of the connotation, and it did look kind of silly, particularly performed in standard combat fatigues and berets rather than in band uniforms. The entire performance lasted about 15 minutes and featured the band marching up and down the square playing music that was mostly Bacharach-esque. One Polish patriotic tune has an unfortunate musical resemblance to the Marx Brothers number "Hooray for Captain Spaulding."  There was not a larger parade, which was disappointing (just as PiS), but Kraków is having serious financial problems, and so festivities have been run on a tight budget recently.

An hour after the marching was finished, it was time to attend public patriotic song singing on the Mały Rynek or Little Square. Booklets containing lyrics were handed out, and the audience encouraged to sing along. A small number of them even did. Of course, about halfway through it started pouring rain, so I went home but not before carrying away some observations. First, the vast majority of Polish patriotic music (and a lot of Polish patriotism) has been rendered suddenly and shockingly obsolete, or at least old-fashioned. Polish patriotism was in large part a response to external forces destroying the Polish state and then attempting to destroy the Polish nation. Polish patriotism is equal parts stubborn cussedness, a yearning for independence, and a remembrance of past glories. The problem is, the hopes of all those patriots and patriotic songs have largely been fulfilled. Poland is free, the culture can find full expression, the Germans are not going to invade anytime soon, and while Russia still supplies Poland's natural gas, hydraulic fracturing taking place around Lublin might even mean some measure of energy independence for Poland. As with so much else in this country, the question is, what next?

Another thing which surprised me was that some of the songs celebrated the Bar Confederation, shortly before another song celebrated (more or less) the last King of Poland, Stanisław August Poniatowski, under whose auspices the May 3rd constitution was ratified. The problem is, the Bar Confederation was actually a rebellion against the King, justified by the argument that the King was a Russian puppet anyway. I don't want to make value judgements here, because I don't know enough about the Bar Confederation. But suffice to say that celebrating them back-to-back is like celebrating Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis back-to-back on the Fourth of July.

From what I understand, Stanisław August Poniatowski (henceforth "Staszek" or "SAP") is a controversial figure in Polish history. Some regard him as a sellout to Catherine the Great and therefore almost a traitor. Others say SAP is a very appropriate nickname: he was well-intentioned, just not very bright. Still others point out that Poland in 1764 wasn't exactly the mightiest country in Eastern Europe, and Staszek did the best he could after being dealt a weak hand. To add my own two groszy to the conversation, I would point out that the Polish magnates weren't especially helpful at this time, and that by 1764 Poland hadn't really had a competent (or even uncontested or clear) king since Jan III Sobieski died in 1696.

At the singing event, Staszek got....a rap? I think a lot of the 70-year old grannies were confused by this one too: imagine entertaining YOUR grandmother with a rap about James Madison and I think you'll get the idea. 

In short, a very entertaining and enlightening time was had by all.

Radom

So much has happened in the last few weeks! I'm hoping to write a few posts in the next few days, but it turns out that a lot of stuff is continuing to go on.

I was in Radom on April 26th to give a lecture about a personal passion of mine, the American Civil War. Because that's an awfully broad topic, I confined myself to discussing just causes and effects. The problem is I'm very good at jabbering on about this particular topic, so it was hard to hold myself to the hour I was allotted.

I was in Radom at the invitation of that city's very active American Corner, one of about 400 worldwide sponsored by the Department of State. I gave two lectures, one to a crowd of younger students and one to a crowd of older students. Radom is not typically a place where a lot of foreigners go: it's most famous for its armaments factory, and it is (or at least was) an industrial city but without the cachet of Łódź (where Justin Beiber walked through airport security without his shirt). I got the sense they were glad to have me, and I was glad to be there.

I think the impression that people have of Radom, namely Łódź without the charm, is unfair. Downtown Radom is pretty in a gritty way. It's clear that the city is not as economically well-off as Kraków, and there is definitely more of an Eastern Bloc feel to the place. One thing that's quite interesting to see in Poland's economic development is how uneven that development is from town to town, or even in the same city, or even on the same block. Go to the Old City of Kraków, for example, and you might as well be in the West someplace. Go due east about two miles and it definitely looks like Eastern Europe. Even in the Old City I've noticed that if you go into a courtyard, i.e. look beyond the facades of the buildings, you'll see that a lot of remodeling is still needed. Leave Kraków or Warsaw and you'll notice that, again, the cities seem more post-Communist. This leads to some fascinating exercises in visualization, trying to picture in one's minds-eye what a particular city would have looked like 15 years ago, or what another city will look like 15 years from now. Five years ago Tarnów, for example, probably looked a lot like Radom.

I think the lectures themselves went well. The first, younger audience wasn't as interested as the second one, and part of this probably has to do with the levels of English present in each audience. I was willing to give the talk in Polish, but the organizers wanted English and who am I to argue? I did get a few very good questions, which was refreshing as normally people are terrified to ask questions of lecturers here for fear of looking stupid.

One aspect of the lecture that made me somewhat uncomfortable was the fact that I had to talk about some of the ugliest parts of the American experience, like slavery and racism. This put me in a bit of a bind because I wanted to be honest, and you cannot discuss the causes of the Civil War without discussing slavery. You cannot discuss the aftermath of the Civil War without discussing Reconstruction, and you can't pretend that Jim Crow never happened. On the other hand, I don't like bad-mouthing my country abroad. The thing is (as I'll discuss more fully in an upcoming post) there's a widespread impression here that America is the perfect country, aside from the fact that you need a visa to go there and it's very very difficult to immigrate. I've heard more anti-American sentiments on college campuses in the United States than I have in Europe. As I'll discuss later, I see this as both good and bad. 

The ladies running the American Corner were very helpful, and one of them, Karolina, took time to take me around the city. What I found rather funny was that they didn't seem to fully believe I spoke Polish, particularly when we were out to lunch with the teachers whose classes saw my lecture. When they were talking about something they didn't want me to hear, they would switch to Polish, but would speak with me in English. So, I got to be the proverbial fly on the wall, and speak English with Poles, which rarely happens.

Oh, and apparently they talked about me on TV.

Die Schöpfung (The Creation)

On Sunday I was able to take in a real treat: a full performance of Franz Joseph Haydn's oratorio Die Schöpfung (The Creation). An oratorio is sort of like an opera but without costumes, props, staging, acting...it's sort of like an opera with more focus on music and less focus on plot. Which, if you know anything about opera, is really saying something, as many operas feature a half hour of a bunch of people bummed that the heroine is dying of TB.

Essentially, an oratorio is a piece of music more than an hour long featuring an orchestra, choir, and soloists. Many oratorios deal with religious subjects, and famous oratorios include The Messiah by Handel, St. Matthew Passion by J.S. Bach (which I talked about in an earlier post), The Christmas Oratorio also by Bach, Elijah by Mendelssohn and The Creation.

The Creation is arguably Haydn's masterpiece. Some of Haydn's works I actually find boring, but I can't blame the guy too much because a lot of his stuff was knocked off in a hurry because the Prince needed something to amuse his dinner guests with. The Creation, however, was written after Haydn had more or less retired, so the by-now old man was able to take his time, deliberately setting out to write something for posterity. The full composition of the work took about two years, and when asked why he was working so slowly Haydn said that he intended for this work to last a long time. Haydn composed two versions, an original in German and an authorized translation into English. Unfortunately, the translation makes clear that Haydn did not the language of English speak, and the translator hardly did either. This comfort lacking displays the text. I'm not even kidding. Who can forget such gems as "the wonder of his work displays the firmament" and "Despairing cursing rage / attends their rapid fall /A new created world / springs up at God's command." Fortunately, this version was sung in German.

I've always found this a stylistically very interesting piece. As one of Haydn's last works, at times the piece seems almost Romantic in nature, yet it also displays contrapuntal virtuosity as well as having a few movements that are simpler in construction, like works of the Classical era. There is a grandiosity to the piece, as well as some examples of music to paint a particular picture. The overture, "A representation of Chaos," features a very unsettled orchestra that seems to be trying to create some kind of order yet simply cannot manage to do so. For example, the orchestra builds to cadences but doesn't actually get them, the key of the piece keeps shifting and it is not until the chorus sings "let there be LIIIIGHT!" that we get a nice, organized, major chord. The overture can be found here.

In some ways, this oratorio is a summary and mastery of every musical trend of Haydn's 77 year life, a remarkable era in music wherein Haydn was a contemporary of J.S., C.P.E. and J.C. Bach, Handel, Telemann, Mozart, Cherubini and Beethoven, among others.

The performance itself, by the Capella Cracoviensis, was somewhat spotty. The largest and most persistent issue was one of balance. The orchestra was consistently too loud, drowning out the choir or at least destroying a lot of subtleties in the choral parts. At times the choir also sounded a little bit muddy, with some parts just seeming to be a bit lost in the shuffle. There were also some minor intonation issues, including one cringe-inducing moment where the choir sang a few measures a capella, with the orchestra coming back in a good half-step lower. The soloists were quite good, even if the soprano was somewhat histrionic. I also believe that the conductor took a few movements at too fast a tempo, not only causing a few of them to be over before they could be fully appreciated but also leading to some serious rushing issues. Rushing is particularly problematic in fugue passages combined with a long crescendo, of which there are several in this particular piece. Instead of getting a very exciting build-up to an excellent cadence, what ended up happening was the sound of a choir primarily focused on hitting those cadences at the same time.

However, I've always been a major fan of this piece, so I would definitely attend this concert again if I had the chance.