A PAPAL VISIT TO RUSSIA : Where is Alexei II's invite?

Most Catholics, I suspect, are annoyed if not dismayed at the unwelcoming and unecumenical attitude of Alexei II, Patriarch of All Russia. Pope John Paul II would like to add Russia to the long list of countries he has visited. He has already been invited by Russian President Vladimir Putin, and only awaits word from the patriarch before flying to Moscow. (The patriarch is said to be ailing.) Quite apart from the fact that there are about five hundred thousand Roman Catholics in Russia, the pope knows that his visit would have enormous symbolic importance for the whole Christian world.

But Alexei II shows little interest in a papal visit to "Holy Russia." Why? In an interview with the Italian newspaper Corriere della Sera, Alexei II has spoken of the "persecution of Orthodox Christians by Greek Catholics in western Ukraine, and the work of proselytism carried out by Catholic church structures among the traditionally Orthodox population of the canonical territory of the Russian Orthodox church."

In Communist times, Catholic clergy and laity who did not convert to Orthodoxy were imprisoned in labor camps and often murdered. The property of Ukrainian Greek Catholics was confiscated and given to the Orthodox. Now the Catholics would like to have their churches and other property in the western Ukraine returned. Regrettably, there has been some anger and recrimination on the part of some Catholics. But it is hyperbole to speak of "persecution."

Overzealous proselytizing is a real concern, but after seventy-four years of atheism, it is not surprising that many have no religious allegiance. In the new Russia, with its relative freedom of religion, many, especially the young, have questions about their own Orthodox roots. Some believe that the biography of Alexei himself--his rapid rise from a simple Estonian monk to official representative of the USSR at foreign conferences, to metropolitan of Leningrad, and finally to patriarch--suggests his collaboration with the former Soviet state. It makes sense, therefore, that some Russians find themselves drawn to other religions. In Latin America, Roman Catholics are not very happy about the growth of Evangelical sects, but it is the price to be paid for religious freedom. Is Alexei willing to pay a similar price for this freedom in Russia?

Yet, it is to the Orthodox church that many Russians return. In ten short years, several historic monasteries and convents have been restored to the Orthodox church and have welcomed hundreds of young novices. Valaam, on a beautiful island in Lake Ladoga near the Finnish border, is once again home to both monks and hermits. The "Orthodox Vatican" and holiest of all monasteries is Sergiyev Posad, about forty miles outside Moscow. During Soviet days, it was renamed Zagorsk, after a Communist hero. Now it is once again named after Saint Sergius, the most revered of Russian mystics. Today, pilgrims travel to Sergiyev Posad to venerate the saint's relics, and 300 seminarians study theology there.

True, some churches in Russia are still being used as restaurants, garages, or gyms, but when visiting there for several weeks last August, I saw that many had been restored to liturgical use. Currently, new icons are being installed, frescos are being painted, domes have been regilded in magnificent gold leaf, and choirs have relearned the wonderful Slavonic church music--necessary because every liturgy is sung and there are no organs, pianos, or guitars. Most important, today the churches are crowded! Many twenty-somethings I observed in the congregations seemed extraordinarily devout. They stood--for there are no pews or kneelers--and made the deep bows and innumerable signs of the cross as they followed the lengthy liturgies with a quiet intensity. They would have been about ten years old when the Soviet state collapsed. Pastors in Western Europe and North America can only envy such numbers and devotion. With this religious revival, the astonishing number of priestly and monastic vocations, and the restored magnificence of the Russian churches, Patriarch Alexei II may think he has no need of a visit from the bishop of Rome. He already has a church that is growing with the devotion of many young people, one that represents a highly visible part of every city and village. Would a visit from the pope in any way add to Alexei's prestige, or would it rather only confuse and influence his people in undesirable ways? Hence, his evident coolness.

But there is another reason, even less evident to Westerners: the heavy hand of history. The great hero of ancient Russia is Saint Prince Alexander Nevsky (1220-63), the man who saved Russia from the invading Teutonic Knights who promised to make it Roman Catholic. Nevsky is a sort of George Washington for the Russians, made a saint because he saved the country for the Orthodox religion. Every Russian child learns the story. And there is yet more that is seldom mentioned in Western history books. In the seventeenth century, Polish and Lithuanian armies invaded Russia. They brought with them Jesuit missionaries to convert the people to Catholicism. At the famous monastery of Optina Pustin, several hours from Moscow in the Russian countryside, I winced when a young Russian guide described how the Polish troops massacred the monks and then immolated the women and children who had taken refuge in the village church. As they listen to such horror stories, it is hardly a wonder that many Russians take "Roman Catholic" to mean "alien" or indeed "enemy." As in Ireland or Bosnia, a dash of historical amnesia might be helpful in tempering ancient hostilities. But in the meantime, it is unlikely that a Polish pope will be a welcome guest in Moscow.

The Reverend Willard Francis Jabusch is the director of Calvert House, the Catholic Student Center at the University of Chicago.