A new generation of Catholics for Russia

Four generations of atheism couldn’t kill God

Julie Filby

The original consecration of Most Holy Mother of God, the cathedral of the Diocese of Vladivostok formed in 1923.

From the launch of the Russian Revolution in 1917 until the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, the communist regime did everything they could to remove God from society: they murdered Christians by the thousands; destroyed churches, monasteries and seminaries; and intentionally unraveled the fabric of the family.

“From the very beginning, communism was atheistic and wanted to destroy the Church completely,” explained Father Daniel Maurer, 63, a native of Michigan and priest of the Canons Regular of Jesus the Lord (C.J.D.) serving in Russia. Father Maurer visited the Archdiocese of Denver earlier this month.

Since religion could not be practiced freely, or passed on in families for nearly 70 years, the militant atheists of the communist party succeeded and Christianity was virtually snuffed out. The effects persist in Russia today.

“When you take away the Gospel, maybe that first generation will be OK, and the second generation a little bit worse,” Father Maurer said. “But look at four generations when it’s been repressed and you find out what human nature is really like.”

Child abandonment and abuse, alcoholism, drug abuse and elder abuse are commonplace—as well as divorce. The majority of marriages in Russia end in divorce according to United Nations’ statistics: in 2011 there were 669,421 divorces and 1.3 million marriages, resulting in a 51 percent divorce rate.

Father Maurer reported seeing a much higher rate in the far eastern region, estimating a 94 percent divorce rate, with 80 percent occurring in the first four years.

Additionally, abortion has become commonplace since Russia became the first nation in the world to legalize it in 1920. According to 2010 U.N. data, the abortion rate for women 15 to 44 is 37.4 abortions per 1,000.

“The average woman in Russia will have eight to 12 abortions,” Father Maurer said. “I have spoken to women personally who have told me they have had as many as 35, it is a terrible tragedy.”

Despite the darkness, Father Maurer has spent the last 23 years helping to rebuild the Church in Russia to bring the light of the Gospel back to its people.

Last Catholic standing
While the predominant religion in the early 1900s was Russian Orthodox (a branch of the Eastern Orthodox Christian Church), there were also at least 20 million Roman Catholics in 550 parishes.

“Russia was a very Christian nation before the communist revolution of 1917,” said Father Maurer.

Vladivostok, where he lives, is located in the extreme southeast part of the country, on the Pacific Ocean, near China, North Korea and Japan. In Vladivostok, there were 28 Orthodox churches, one German Lutheran, and one brand new Neo-Gothic Roman Catholic church: Most Holy Mother of God.

In 1923, Most Holy Mother of God became the cathedral of the newly formed Diocese of Vladivostok, and its parish priest became Bishop Karol Slivovsky. It had thousands of parishioners and a vibrant organization of charitable initiatives. Within 10 years, however, the last diocesan priest would be arrested and sent to Siberia, the bishop forced into exile and the parish community would be left to fend for itself.

“The communist government completely destroyed all 28 Orthodox churches, they no longer exist,” said Father Maurer, two of the largest were blown up on Easter.

However the communists didn’t destroy the then-new Catholic church. There was an easier way of dealing with the “Catholic problem,” he said.

“We only made up one and a half percent of the population,” said Father Maurer. “So they killed us all; the entire parish wiped out.”

It is estimated the Soviet communist government murdered 46 million of its own people, hundreds of thousands for their faith, Father Maurer said.

“Altogether there are more martyrs for their faith in the Soviet Union in the 20th century than in all the other countries in the world in the 2,000-year history of Christianity put together,” he added.

Rebuilding the Church
When the communist party was dissolving in 1991 and the city of Vladivostok was on the verge of reopening to foreigners, Bishop Joseph Werth, S.J., of Novosibirsk, Siberia, received a letter from a small remnant of the city’s Catholics, asking for a priest to come reopen Most Holy Mother of God Church.

About the same time, Father Myron Effing, C.J.D., 63, an Indiana native, arrived in Novosibirsk to inquire about the possibility of serving in Vladivostok. With permission from Bishop Werth, Father Effing traveled 2,300 miles to Vladivostok and celebrated the parish’s first Mass Nov. 10, 1991. The liturgy was held outside the church because the building was still under state control. Temperatures hovered in single digits that day.

When Vladivostok officially reopened in February 1992, Fathers Effing and Maurer arrived to stay. There were three priests in Russia at the time, making them Nos. 4 and 5.

Following an extensive search, they were able to locate 15 descendants of the former 15,000 members of the parish.

“We started with our 15 descendants and now we have a thriving parish of about 550 people that we ourselves have baptized,” according to Father Maurer.

They have founded 12 parishes in the Diocese of St. Joseph of Irkutsk, which was formed in 2002, an area two-and-a-half times the size of the continental United States, now served by 35 priests.

“We are making progress,” Father Maurer said. “But please continue to pray for the conversion of Russia, I don’t want to give false hope for the future.”

After almost 23 years of religious freedom, 99.5 percent of the population of the largest country in the world, which spans 6.6 million square miles and 11 time zones, is still not practicing any religion.

“It is a society without God,” he said. “You can imagine how many problems there would be in America if only 0.5 percent of the people knew anything about God at all.”

A Pew Research Center study released July 9 indicated Russia is “broadly unpopular” in many countries, including the United States where it is “increasingly disliked.” More than three-quarters of U.S. respondents feel the Russian government does not respect the personal freedoms of its people.

Regardless, the faithful in Vladivostok credit the prayers of many in the West who have asked Mary’s intercession for the conversion of Russia for the return of faith, albeit small, in their country.

Additionally, generous supporters of the C.J.D. order’s Mary Mother of God Mission Society have allowed the community to continue to build churches, establish catechetical, liturgical, social and pro-life programs; and open eight crisis pregnancy centers, three orphanages and a hospice.

They have also launched a seminarian sponsorship program to help carry their mission into the future. Currently there are 25 brothers from the Philippines and Indonesia in the community of Canons Regular of Jesus the Lord founded by Fathers Effing and Maurer, and eight of the men are studying to be priests.

“These are wonderful young men,” Father Maurer said, “(who) want to give their lives for the rebirth of this tragic Church in Russia.”

For more information on the Mary Mother of God Mission Society, visit www.vladmission.org or contact the U.S. office at 209-408-0728 or usoffice@vladmission.org.

COMING UP: A caveat on the great Tom Wolfe

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When the great Tom Wolfe died on May 14 — he of the white suits, the spats, and the prose style as exuberant as his wardrobe — I, like millions of others, remembered the many moments of pleasure I had gotten from his work.

My Wolfe-addiction began on a cross-country flight in 1979, shortly after The Right Stuff was published. Always an airplane and space nut, I was fascinated by Wolfe’s re-creation of the culture of America’s test pilots and astronauts at the height of the Cold War. And there was that extraordinarily vivid writing. At one point I burst out laughing, scaring the daylights of the elderly lady sitting next to me but not daring to show her the passage — it must have involved Pancho Barnes’ Happy Bottom Riding Club, a saloon outside Edwards Air Force Base — that set me off.

After The Right Stuff got me going on Tom Wolfe, it was impossible to stop. The first half of Radical Chic and Mau-Mauing the Flak Catchers — Wolfe’s scathing account of a reception thrown for the Black Panthers by Leonard and Felicia Bernstein — remains the quintessential smack-down of political correctness among the 1% cultural elites. From Bauhaus to Our House explains why anyone with an aesthetic sense thinks something is seriously wrong with modernist architecture, and does so in a way that makes you laugh rather than cry.

Then there was Wolfe’s first novel, The Bonfire of the Vanities. One of its chapters, “The Masque of the Red Death,” takes its title from Edgar Allan Poe and with mordant humor dissects the vacuity of Manhattanites consumed (and in some cases destroyed) by their grotesque, over-the-top consumerism. I recently re-read that stunning set-piece and the thought occurred, as it had before, that it was a far more effective polemic against materialism than anything ever issued by the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace. Bonfire was also brilliant in skewering the destructiveness of New York’s race hustlers, the obtuseness of a values-free media, and the fecklessness of too many politicians.

Asked once by monks who run a prestigious prep school what they might do to disabuse parents of the notion that their sons were doomed if they didn’t get into Harvard, Duke, Stanford, and the like, I suggested giving a copy of I Am Charlotte Simmons to the parents of every incoming senior. Wolfe’s fictional tale of life on elite American university campuses in the 21st century is a sometimes-jarring exercise in the social realism practiced (a bit less brutally) by Dickens and Balzac. But Charlotte Simmons, like Wolfe’s other fiction, has a serious moral core and an important cultural message. The young innocent, the brightest girl in town who makes it to an elite university, gets corrupted by stages: and her moral corruption is preceded by intellectual corruption — the class in which she’s taught that there’s really nothing properly called “the truth.”

I do have one post-mortem caveat to register about Tom Wolfe’s oeuvre, which takes me back to The Right Stuff (and while we’re on that subject again, forget the inane movie). The central figure in Wolfe’s tale of aeronautical daring-do is Chuck Yeager, the man who first broke the “sound barrier” in the Bell X-1, and did so with a couple of broken ribs, which he managed in flight with the aid of a sawed-off broom handle. Yeager was an extraordinary figure who never became a national celebrity because of the (absurd) news blackout surrounding the X-1 project, and Wolfe clearly wanted to pay tribute to him as an unsung American hero.

To do so, however, Tom Wolfe seemed to think he needed a foil, and he cast astronaut Gus Grissom in that role: “L’il Gus,” the Hoosier grit lampooned as a bumbler to make Yeager look even better. And that was a grave disservice to the memory of Virgil I. Grissom, who did not mess up the second Mercury space flight (Wolfe’s account notwithstanding), and who gave his life for his country in the launch pad fire that consumed Apollo 1 — which Grissom knew to be a deeply flawed spacecraft and had urged NASA to improve.

So now that Tom Wolfe and Gus Grissom have both crossed what Wolfe once called the Halusian Gulp, I hope these two American patriots are reconciled. Both had the right stuff.