Moellering, Ralph L.

English

Wilfrid Laurier University

ConsensusVolume 2 | Issue 3 Article 47-1-1976Church and State in Lithuania, Latvia and EstoniaRalph L. MoelleringFollow this and additional works at: http://scholars.wlu.ca/consensusThis Articles is brought to you for free and open access by Scholars Commons @ Laurier. It has been accepted for inclusion in Consensus by anauthorized editor of Scholars Commons @ Laurier. For more information, please contact scholarscommons@wlu.ca.Recommended CitationMoellering, Ralph L. (1976) "Church and State in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia," Consensus: Vol. 2 : Iss. 3 , Article 4.Available at: http://scholars.wlu.ca/consensus/vol2/iss3/4Church and Statein Lithuania, Latvia and EstoniaGLIMPSESOF THE BALTIC REPUBLICSRalph L. MoelleringConflicting judgments are heard about church-state relations in the SovietBaltic Republics. Refugees who streamed into Canada and other Westerncountries while the Red Army was establishing control in 1944 are embittered bytheir personal losses and tend to look upon their homelands as territoriesdominated by alien Russians. Churchmen who fled have grieved over theCommunist takeover and recount many tales of woe; in some instances, theydoubt the authenticity of religious leaders who have been approved by the presentgovernment. Already during the Soviet occupation in 1940-41, it is claimed,militant atheists vented their spleen against believers. Prior to the Anglo-American alliance, it is asserted, the Lutheran church in Estonia was attackedwith unrelenting fury.According to a booklet published by the World Association of Estonians in1944, religious communities were dispossessed of their property withoutcompensation, clergymen were denounced as enemies of the people and the scumof society, while the League of Anti-Religious Fighters resorted to every availablemeans to extirpate Christian convictions from the minds of the people. Early in1949, Newsweek carried a dire report about the fate of churches behind the IronCurtain. Other periodicals joined in deploring the persecution of the faithful.Throughout the years since the Second World War, Captive Nations Sundayhas been observed in some North American congregations, with prayers for the1920 Consencusdeliverance of the oppressed. As late as July 1974, the Baltic Appeal Committeein Canada adopted a resolution calling for the immediate cessation of genocideand Russification in the Baltic states and the restoration of freedom andself-determination in all of the so-called ‘autonomous Republics’.According to the Norwegian Mission to Iron Curtain Countries, the KGB(Russian secret police) discovered the concealed printing press of theunderground church in the city of Ligatne in Latvia on October 28, 1974. SixProtestant Christians were reported to have been arrested. The leader of thisunregistered church is in a prison hospital in Kiev.By contrast, government officials and Communist Party spokesmen maintainthat Christian churches and Jewish synagogues are unmolested. Citizens areassured, so it is said, of the personal right to be either religious or irreligious. IfChristian pastors have been restricted or punished in past years, it waspresumably because they were political reactionaries whose pronouncementsmade them a menace to the evolving progressive social order. What is notmentioned is that the Marxist-Leninist ideology, which is compulsory learningfrom the earliest years in elementary schools through the most advancedphilosophical studies in the universities, includes an affirmation of atheism andthe exposure of religious tenets as unscientific illusions and incrediblesuperstitions. While godless propaganda can be freely circulated, Christians areforbidden to disseminate literature or to defend their convictions in publicgatherings.In Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania, a number of church buildings are still visiblewhich are closed or abandoned. In some instances, bookstores and souvenirshops have been attached to the idle, but imposing, structures.In Gediminas Square, one finds that the snow-white building of the Art Gallerywas formerly a cathedral dating back to 1387, and designed by the outstandingLithuanian archetect L. Stuoka-Gucevicius, in which there remain front andlateral facades adorned with representations of Biblical heroes. In Riga, thecapital of Latvia, the Dom Cathedral — a fantastic mixture of almost all styles ofarchetecture, including Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque andclassical — now serves as a concert hall and houses a museum of the city’s historyand navigation.It was disconcerting, to say the least, to stumble upon one ecclesiastical edificein the Lithuanian metropolis which is being used as an atheistic museum. Thehistory of religion is portrayed in evolutionary forms from the primitive to moderntimes with naturalistic explanations. Artifacts, writings, paintings and religioussymbols of all sorts are displayed to trace the supposed development fromanimism, totemism and ancient beliefs, through Judaism, New TestamentChristianity, Byzantine orthodoxy and Islam to the Reformation, theEnlightenment, and the repudiation of supernaturalism by Marxism. At the end ofthis rather crude and superficial collection of materials, one is taken aback by theclimactic conclusion emblazoned in large letters: “there is no God.”However, despite the disabilities it must endure, the church has not vanishedfrom the scene. St. Anne’s Church, a veritable symphony of Gothic splendoraspiring to the skies, together with a wise array of other churches in Vilnius,continue to be frequented by worshipers. Elderly women approach sacred shrinesGlimpses of the Baltic Republics 21with age-old piety. In Riga, the spacious St. Johannes Lutheran Church which Ivisited on a Sunday morning was sparsely attended. Only about 35 older men andwomen could be seen in each of two separate services. On the other hand, ajoyous, overflow crowd celebrated mass at the Roman Catholic St. Jacob’sChurch, considerably smaller in size.In Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, it was claimed that no churches had been lostby government decree. An Estonian-American told me that she observed aBaptist church completely filled for Sunday worship, while a Lutheran church inTallinn with a lively minister was about two-thirds occupied. From a personalinterview with Bishop Tooming, the recognized head of the Estonian LutheranChurch, I learned that some 142 congregations are being served by 97 pastorsand 35 preachers. The 28 individuals in training for the ministry receive formalseminary-type instruction for only four days in each month; most of them mustwork at full time jobs to earn a livelihood. Church-state relations, the Bishopconcedes, were bad up to 1953 (the Stalinist era).In recent years, he maintains, the situation has become markedly and steadilymore favorable. Congregations may be small, but they are not losing members.As might be expected, only the faithful — only the sincere believers — perseverebecause it requires fortitude and firm conviction to worship and profess Christ incontradistinction from the opinions and practices of the majority of irreligiousinhabitants. Nevertheless, children no longer meet with discrimination in theschools when they identify themselves as Christians. Bishop Tooming’s son, whois an engineer, and his daughter, who is a librarian, were permitted to pursue ahigher education without encountering any obstacles. Unlike Finland or mostparts of Western Europe, boys and girls who are baptized and confirmed stay withthe church and remain actively involved.While rejecting the godless ideology which is officially fostered in Partygatherings and in the educational system, this spokesman for Christianity isemphatic in insisting that the church must display its solidarity with the toilingmasses and the wretched of the earth. Hence, in his judgment, the levellingprocess evident under Communism is preferable to the inequities associated withcapitalism. Above all. Dr. Tooming professes to be vitally concerned about thechurch’s responsibility in averting war and promoting detente. Members areencouraged to contribute to a church-sponsored peace fund.Will the Moscow-dictated hard line that disparages all religion as inimical tohuman welfare ever be modified? Symptoms of change for the better arenoticeable, according to this churchman. Eventually, he intimates, even friendlyMarxist-Christian dialogue may be possible.In earlier centuries, many of the prominent citizens of Tallinn were buried in theDominican cloister which was founded around 1250 and built in stages from 1397to 1520. When 1 visited this historic site, 1 was accompanied by an elderly manfrom Riga who attempted to translate the Russian inscriptions into German as Itook notes in English. Although he was fascinated by the antiquity of the cloisterand its interesting archetecture, he told me bluntly that he was not a believer.What becomes recurrently obvious as one travels in either Western or EasternEurope is the loss of commitment to traditional faith. Only in part can this beattributed to Communist hostility. In Marxist countries, just as much as in West22 ConsensusGermany, England and France, alienation from the church has been caused bythe overwhelming influence of the whole modern secularization process. Asmaterial delights and cosmopolitan entertainment have become available in theindustrialized nations, spiritual values seem to be eroded and ties with theinstitutional church are more frequently severed.What is most disturbing to North American observers travelling in EasternEurope is the depressing regimentation and the lack of personal liberties.Totalitarian restraints do not permit uninhibited freedom of movement orexpression. The press is muzzled, except for dutifully printing the party line onevery subject. As many documented reports emerging from the U.S.S.R.demonstrate, anti-Semitism and an anti-Christian bias continue to poison theatmosphere. The church is merely tolerated, never encouraged. If the clergyvoice any criticism of existing socio-political structures, they remain liable todismissal or punishment. Yet it is apparent that life in the Baltic Republics hasimproved immensely in the past twenty years, and religious leaders claim to seesome bright spots appearing on the ecclesiastical horizon.North American Christians should remember with prayerful concern theirbrothers and sisters in Christ who enjoy neither the affluence nor the spiritualopportunities which we take for granted. All the while we should realize that adenunciatory self-righteous attitude toward all socialist countries is neitherhelpful nor deserved.Pastor Moellering visisted the Baltic Republics in August, 1974. The aboverepresents his personal reflections of his visit.

Church and State in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia

Scholars Commons

Consensus
Volume 2 | Issue 3 Article 4
7-1-1976
Church and State in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia
Ralph L. Moellering
Follow this and additional works at: http://scholars.wlu.ca/consensus
This Articles is brought to you for free and open access by Scholars Commons @ Laurier. It has been accepted for inclusion in Consensus by an
authorized editor of Scholars Commons @ Laurier. For more information, please contact scholarscommons@wlu.ca.
Recommended Citation
Moellering, Ralph L. (1976) "Church and State in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia," Consensus: Vol. 2 : Iss. 3 , Article 4.
Available at: http://scholars.wlu.ca/consensus/vol2/iss3/4
Church and State
in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia
GLIMPSES
OF THE BALTIC REPUBLICS
Ralph L. Moellering
Conflicting judgments are heard about church-state relations in the Soviet
Baltic Republics. Refugees who streamed into Canada and other Western
countries while the Red Army was establishing control in 1944 are embittered by
their personal losses and tend to look upon their homelands as territories
dominated by alien Russians. Churchmen who fled have grieved over the
Communist takeover and recount many tales of woe; in some instances, they
doubt the authenticity of religious leaders who have been approved by the present
government. Already during the Soviet occupation in 1940-41, it is claimed,
militant atheists vented their spleen against believers. Prior to the Anglo-
American alliance, it is asserted, the Lutheran church in Estonia was attacked
with unrelenting fury.
According to a booklet published by the World Association of Estonians in
1944, religious communities were dispossessed of their property without
compensation, clergymen were denounced as enemies of the people and the scum
of society, while the League of Anti-Religious Fighters resorted to every available
means to extirpate Christian convictions from the minds of the people. Early in
1949, Newsweek carried a dire report about the fate of churches behind the Iron
Curtain. Other periodicals joined in deploring the persecution of the faithful.
Throughout the years since the Second World War, Captive Nations Sunday
has been observed in some North American congregations, with prayers for the
19
20 Consencus
deliverance of the oppressed. As late as July 1974, the Baltic Appeal Committee
in Canada adopted a resolution calling for the immediate cessation of genocide
and Russification in the Baltic states and the restoration of freedom and
self-determination in all of the so-called ‘autonomous Republics’.
According to the Norwegian Mission to Iron Curtain Countries, the KGB
(Russian secret police) discovered the concealed printing press of the
underground church in the city of Ligatne in Latvia on October 28, 1974. Six
Protestant Christians were reported to have been arrested. The leader of this
unregistered church is in a prison hospital in Kiev.
By contrast, government officials and Communist Party spokesmen maintain
that Christian churches and Jewish synagogues are unmolested. Citizens are
assured, so it is said, of the personal right to be either religious or irreligious. If
Christian pastors have been restricted or punished in past years, it was
presumably because they were political reactionaries whose pronouncements
made them a menace to the evolving progressive social order. What is not
mentioned is that the Marxist-Leninist ideology, which is compulsory learning
from the earliest years in elementary schools through the most advanced
philosophical studies in the universities, includes an affirmation of atheism and
the exposure of religious tenets as unscientific illusions and incredible
superstitions. While godless propaganda can be freely circulated, Christians are
forbidden to disseminate literature or to defend their convictions in public
gatherings.
In Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania, a number of church buildings are still visible
which are closed or abandoned. In some instances, bookstores and souvenir
shops have been attached to the idle, but imposing, structures.
In Gediminas Square, one finds that the snow-white building of the Art Gallery
was formerly a cathedral dating back to 1387, and designed by the outstanding
Lithuanian archetect L. Stuoka-Gucevicius, in which there remain front and
lateral facades adorned with representations of Biblical heroes. In Riga, the
capital of Latvia, the Dom Cathedral — a fantastic mixture of almost all styles of
archetecture, including Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque and
classical — now serves as a concert hall and houses a museum of the city’s history
and navigation.
It was disconcerting, to say the least, to stumble upon one ecclesiastical edifice
in the Lithuanian metropolis which is being used as an atheistic museum. The
history of religion is portrayed in evolutionary forms from the primitive to modern
times with naturalistic explanations. Artifacts, writings, paintings and religious
symbols of all sorts are displayed to trace the supposed development from
animism, totemism and ancient beliefs, through Judaism, New Testament
Christianity, Byzantine orthodoxy and Islam to the Reformation, the
Enlightenment, and the repudiation of supernaturalism by Marxism. At the end of
this rather crude and superficial collection of materials, one is taken aback by the
climactic conclusion emblazoned in large letters: “there is no God.”
However, despite the disabilities it must endure, the church has not vanished
from the scene. St. Anne’s Church, a veritable symphony of Gothic splendor
aspiring to the skies, together with a wise array of other churches in Vilnius,
continue to be frequented by worshipers. Elderly women approach sacred shrines
Glimpses of the Baltic Republics 21
with age-old piety. In Riga, the spacious St. Johannes Lutheran Church which I
visited on a Sunday morning was sparsely attended. Only about 35 older men and
women could be seen in each of two separate services. On the other hand, a
joyous, overflow crowd celebrated mass at the Roman Catholic St. Jacob’s
Church, considerably smaller in size.
In Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, it was claimed that no churches had been lost
by government decree. An Estonian-American told me that she observed a
Baptist church completely filled for Sunday worship, while a Lutheran church in
Tallinn with a lively minister was about two-thirds occupied. From a personal
interview with Bishop Tooming, the recognized head of the Estonian Lutheran
Church, I learned that some 142 congregations are being served by 97 pastors
and 35 preachers. The 28 individuals in training for the ministry receive formal
seminary-type instruction for only four days in each month; most of them must
work at full time jobs to earn a livelihood. Church-state relations, the Bishop
concedes, were bad up to 1953 (the Stalinist era).
In recent years, he maintains, the situation has become markedly and steadily
more favorable. Congregations may be small, but they are not losing members.
As might be expected, only the faithful — only the sincere believers — persevere
because it requires fortitude and firm conviction to worship and profess Christ in
contradistinction from the opinions and practices of the majority of irreligious
inhabitants. Nevertheless, children no longer meet with discrimination in the
schools when they identify themselves as Christians. Bishop Tooming’s son, who
is an engineer, and his daughter, who is a librarian, were permitted to pursue a
higher education without encountering any obstacles. Unlike Finland or most
parts of Western Europe, boys and girls who are baptized and confirmed stay with
the church and remain actively involved.
While rejecting the godless ideology which is officially fostered in Party
gatherings and in the educational system, this spokesman for Christianity is
emphatic in insisting that the church must display its solidarity with the toiling
masses and the wretched of the earth. Hence, in his judgment, the levelling
process evident under Communism is preferable to the inequities associated with
capitalism. Above all. Dr. Tooming professes to be vitally concerned about the
church’s responsibility in averting war and promoting detente. Members are
encouraged to contribute to a church-sponsored peace fund.
Will the Moscow-dictated hard line that disparages all religion as inimical to
human welfare ever be modified? Symptoms of change for the better are
noticeable, according to this churchman. Eventually, he intimates, even friendly
Marxist-Christian dialogue may be possible.
In earlier centuries, many of the prominent citizens of Tallinn were buried in the
Dominican cloister which was founded around 1250 and built in stages from 1397
to 1520. When 1 visited this historic site, 1 was accompanied by an elderly man
from Riga who attempted to translate the Russian inscriptions into German as I
took notes in English. Although he was fascinated by the antiquity of the cloister
and its interesting archetecture, he told me bluntly that he was not a believer.
What becomes recurrently obvious as one travels in either Western or Eastern
Europe is the loss of commitment to traditional faith. Only in part can this be
attributed to Communist hostility. In Marxist countries, just as much as in West
22 Consensus
Germany, England and France, alienation from the church has been caused by
the overwhelming influence of the whole modern secularization process. As
material delights and cosmopolitan entertainment have become available in the
industrialized nations, spiritual values seem to be eroded and ties with the
institutional church are more frequently severed.
What is most disturbing to North American observers travelling in Eastern
Europe is the depressing regimentation and the lack of personal liberties.
Totalitarian restraints do not permit uninhibited freedom of movement or
expression. The press is muzzled, except for dutifully printing the party line on
every subject. As many documented reports emerging from the U.S.S.R.
demonstrate, anti-Semitism and an anti-Christian bias continue to poison the
atmosphere. The church is merely tolerated, never encouraged. If the clergy
voice any criticism of existing socio-political structures, they remain liable to
dismissal or punishment. Yet it is apparent that life in the Baltic Republics has
improved immensely in the past twenty years, and religious leaders claim to see
some bright spots appearing on the ecclesiastical horizon.
North American Christians should remember with prayerful concern their
brothers and sisters in Christ who enjoy neither the affluence nor the spiritual
opportunities which we take for granted. All the while we should realize that a
denunciatory self-righteous attitude toward all socialist countries is neither
helpful nor deserved.
Pastor Moellering visisted the Baltic Republics in August, 1974. The above
represents his personal reflections of his visit.


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Church and State in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia

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