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.
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