English

Če se postaviš pred zemljevid sveta, med otokom Javo in Slovenijo opaziš zanimivo podobnost: oba sta tako majhna, da ju razen poznavalcev nihče ne bi zares znal natančno pokazati s prstom. Java je v resnici mnogo večja kot Slovenija, le da se to s perspektive svetovnega zemljevida ne opazi. Podobna vzporednica velja za mesti Surabaya in Ljubljana: zanju v resnici nihče ni zares slišal in nihče ne ve točno, kako se njuno ime pravilno izgovori, kaj šele napiše. Ponovno, Surabaya je v resnici mnogo večje mesto kot Ljubljana. No ja, to je bolj hudomušna uvodna misel. Sicer pa sem se enotedenskega obiska v Indoneziji neizmerno veselil. Vedno je lepo (ponovno) srečati brate in sestre, moje pričakovanje pa je bilo predvsem povezano s slovesom Cerkve v Aziji. Če smo v zahodnem svetu priča izginjanju krščanske kulture in ugašanju Cerkve, veljajo za Afriko in Azijo drugi procesi. Doslej sem bil samo v Vietnamu, kjer sem dejansko srečal izredno živo Cerkev. V Indoneziji so bila moja pričakovanja približno enaka.

Surabaya je mesto na otoku Java, ki šteje nekaj manj kot 3 milijone prebivalcev. Če štejemo celotno metropolitansko območje, pa se jih nabere več kot 9 milijonov, od tega je skoraj 90% muslimanov. Katoličanov je v tej množici vernikov manj kot 4%. Za lažjo predstavo: to je nekaj takega, kot če bi vse Slovence pomnožil s 4,5 in jih naselil med Vodice, Šmarje Sap, Moravče in Ig. Vsekakor nepredstavljive razsežnosti, ki si jih bržčas nihče od nas ne želi. A to je njihova resničnost. Surabaya je tudi škofijski sedež, katerega ozemlje sega precej onkraj metropolitanskega območja in pokriva še kakšen dodaten milijon ali dva ljudi. Trenutno imajo 38 bogoslovcev, poleg tega pa še 13 fantov v prvem letniku razločevanja ter dodatnih 17 v drugem letniku razločevanja. Ja, škofija ima ustaljen dvoletni razločevalni program za fante, ki bi radi postali bogoslovci. Proporcionalno gledano je 18 slovenskih bogoslovcev dvakrat več kot onih. To je lahko spodbuden podatek. Je pa res, da je naših 18 namenjenih katoliški Sloveniji – vsaj tako si jo zaenkrat še predstavljamo – njihovih 38 pa ekstremni manjšini 4% prebivalstva. Škofija ima v mestu Surabaya 4 lastne univerze, slovenske škofije imajo denimo 4 gimnazije. Skratka, podatki za indonezijske razmere so navdušujoči, vsaj zame.

V tednu, ki sem ga preživel v mestu, so me gostili bratje duhovniki v Župniji sv. Jakoba. Vem, da podatek ne pove kaj dosti, in to je tudi namen. To je preprosto ena izmed številnih župnij v mestu, ničesar izrednega pač. Župnijska cerkev premore 700 sedežev, pogled na nedeljski red svetih maš pove: sobotna večerna maša in 4 svete maše v nedeljo. Župnik mi je ob ogledu župnijskih prostorov pokazal cerkev, nakar smo šli od glavnega vhoda po stopnicah navzdol ter vstopili v ogromen prazen prostor pod cerkvijo, neke vrste spodnje nadstropje cerkve, na koncu katerega so bili naloženi stoli. Vprašal sem ga čemu služi. Povedal mi je, da je navadno pri nedeljskih maša preveč ljudi, da bi vsi dobili svoj sedež v cerkvi, zato imajo redno video prenos tudi spodaj. Menda se jih redno nabere vsaj 300, pogosto tudi več. Z drugimi besedami, župnija ima kakšnih 5000 nedeljnikov.

Župnišče je moderna zgradba v treh nadstropjih. Pritlični del ima kapelo, v kateri je Najsvetejše izpostavljeno v čaščenje 24 ur na dan. No, to je bilo pred epidemijo, nekaj let kasneje se postopno vračajo k staremu urniku. V prvem nadstropju so župnijske dvorane in učilnice; župnik mi je povedal, da so ob popoldnevih in večerih popolnoma zasedene z najrazličnejšimi skupinami. Gornje nadstropje so bivalni prostori. Podružničnih cerkva nimajo, pač pa oskrbujejo kapelo trgovskega centra nedaleč stran od župnijske cerkve. Lokalni podjetnik kitajskih korenin in lastnik nakupovalnega središča je znotraj kompleksa zgradil kapelo za 700 ljudi, kjer je redna maša. Nič nenavadnega ni, da se ob praznikih popolnoma napolni. Vse to z dvema duhovnikoma na župniji.

Bojim se, da ta tako rekoč neznaten primer odraža nekaj pomembnega, da ne rečem bistvenega glede tega, kar sem zapisal uvodoma. Namreč, da Cerkev v Aziji doživlja svojevrstno rodovitnost. Četudi je bila moja izkušnja nadvse neznatna, sem vendar doživel življenjsko moč krščanske skupnosti. Česar si denimo v zahodnem svetu le redko nadejam. Na našem koncu planeta število kristjanov in vpliv Cerkve na družbo vztrajno kopnita, podobno kot pomladanski sneg. In če smo že med kristjani tako malo rodovitni, kako šele kaže med tistimi, ki Boga niti ne poznajo?

Med Cerkvijo v Sloveniji in v Indoneziji opaziš zanimivo podobnost: glede na celotno prebivalstvo sta obe neznatni manjšini. Pri prvi velja, da se ji je manjšinski položaj zgodil povsem nepričakovano in pred kratkim, pri drugi pa, da je do manjšinskega položaja prišla pred kratkim. Pri prvi se zdi, da si manjšinski položaj le s težkimi mukami priznava, medtem ko bo do njenega sprejemanja morala storiti še precejšnjo pot. Pri drugi pa bolj velja, da jo manjšinski položaj niti malo ne zavira pri njeni živosti. Med Cerkvama je tudi podoben izziv: kako naj postane ustvarjalna manjšina – do te mere, da bo na dolgi rok s svojih duhom prekvasila celotno družbo.

English

A quick look to Asia

If you stand in front of a map of the world, you will notice an interesting similarity between the island of Java and Slovenia: both are so small that no one but an expert could point the finger at them. Java is much bigger than Slovenia, but from the perspective of a world map, this could be clearer. A similar parallel applies to the cities of Surabaya and Ljubljana: nobody has really heard of them, and nobody knows exactly how to pronounce, let alone spell their names. Surabaya is a much bigger city than Ljubljana. Well, yes, that’s more of a humorous opening thought. Anyway, I was looking forward to my week in Indonesia immensely. It is always lovely to meet again, brothers and sisters, but my anticipation was mainly related to the reputation of the Church in Asia. If, in the Western world, we are witnessing the disappearance of Christendom and the fading away of the Church, other processes are taking place in Africa and Asia. So far, I have only been to Vietnam, where I have encountered an extremely vibrant Church. In Indonesia, my expectations were about the same.

Surabaya is a city on the island of Java with a population of just under 3 million. If you count the whole metropolitan area, it is over 9 million, of whom almost 90% are Muslims. Unimaginable proportions for a Slovenian, which probably none of us wants. But this is their reality. Surabaya is also a diocesan seat whose territory extends well beyond the metropolitan area and covers another million or so people. At present they have 38 seminarians, adding to those 13 young men in the first year of discernment and another 17 in the second year of discernment of priesthood. Yes, the diocese has an established two-year discernment program for men who want to become seminarians and, eventually, priests. Proportionally speaking, there are 18 Slovene seminarians, which is twice as many as in Surabaya. This may be an encouraging figure. But our 18 are indeed destined for a catholic Slovenia – at least that is how we imagine it for the time being – while their 38 are for an extreme minority of 4% of the population. The diocese of Surabaya has 4 universities of its own, while six Slovenian dioceses have, for example, 4 high schools and zero universities. In short, the data for the Indonesian situation are impressive, at least for me.

During the week I spent in the city, I was hosted by the brother priests of St. James Parish. The information does not say much, which is the intention. It is simply one of the many parishes in the city, nothing extraordinary. The parish church seats 700, and a look at the Sunday Mass schedule tells you: Saturday evening Mass and 4 Masses on Sunday. The parish priest gave me a tour of the parish, and we walked down the stairs from the main entrance and entered a vast empty space under the church, a sort of lower floor of the church, with chairs stacked at the end. I asked him what it was for. He told me that there are usually too many people at Sunday services for everyone to get a seat in the church, so they regularly have a video feed at the lower church as well. Apparently, at least 300 people regularly turn up, often more. In other words, the parish has about 5000 Sunday churchgoers.

The parish hall is a modern building on three floors. The ground floor has a chapel where the Blessed Sacrament is exposed for veneration 24 hours a day. Well, that was the case before the pandemic. Three years later, they are gradually returning to the old schedule. On the first floor are the parish halls and classrooms; the parish priest told me that they are fully occupied in the afternoons and evenings seven days a week with all sorts of groups. The upper floor is the living area for priests. They do not have any other church in the parish, but they serve the chapel of a shopping center not far from the parish church. A local entrepreneur of Chinese roots and a shopping center owner has built a chapel for 700 people within the complex, where mass is held regularly. It is common for it to fill up entirely on feast days. All this with two priests per parish.

This virtually trivial example reflects something important, not to say essential, about what I wrote in the introduction. Namely, the Church in Asia is experiencing great fruitfulness. Even if my experience remains very limited, I have experienced the life-giving power of the Christian community. Something I rarely hope to do in the Western world, for example. In our part of the world, the number of Christians and the influence of the Church on society is steadily diminishing, a bit like the snow in the springtime. And if we are already so barren among Christians, what is it like among those who do not even know God?

There is an interesting similarity between the Church in Slovenia and the Church in Indonesia: they are both tiny minorities concerning the population as a whole. In the case of Slovenia, minority status came quite unexpectedly and recently, while in the case of the latter, minority status came relatively recently. In the case of the former, it seems that it is only with great difficulty that it recognizes its minority status, while it still has a long way to go to accept it. For the latter, it is more the case that its minority position does not hinder its liveliness one bit. There is a similar challenge between the two Churches: how to become a creative minority – to the extent that, in the long run, it will infuse society with its spirit.