Spiritual reflection amid military might

  • 2005-02-16
  • By Steven Paulikas
VILNIUS - It's Sunday morning Mass at St. Ignatius' Church in the Vilnius Old Town. Five young men stand before the altar as they are about to be baptized. They're all wearing sailor suits.
St. Ignatius', which held its first service just a few months ago, is the only parish church dedicated to the religious needs of military personnel in the Baltic states. With its long and winding history, the sanctuary is a fitting venue for the very particular spiritual journey traveled by men and women in uniform. And as the focal point of Lithuania's military chaplaincy, the building's cheery, baroque architecture is strangely befitting to this meeting-place of the soul and the sword.

Holy history

The first Eucharist celebrated in over 50 years between St. Ignatius' newly-replastered walls took place on Nov. 23 of last year. Like the rest of the Defense Ministry complex to which it belongs, the church began life as part of a Jesuit monastery built deep inside the Vilnius city walls at the beginning of the 17th century.

After a quarter-century of construction, the building was finally consecrated on July 21, 1647, only to burn down 90 years later. Following a brief stint as a seminary, the monastery took on a military role when it was converted into barracks and stables to house the recently arrived Czarist forces in 1798. Still later, the inevitable Soviet mishandling of the premises fortunately spared it the ignominious type of assignment visited on many Lithuanian churches; it was used as a film studio.

Soviet disregard for the spiritual heritage of buildings was mirrored in its treatment of military recruits. As practically any man who served the required two-year tour in the Soviet army will attest, most were willing to do practically anything to escape the ritual hazing, hard labor, and dehumanizing treatment that comprised the program of conscription.

While concerned with avoiding the cruel and sometimes fatal violence inflicted on them by their seniors, soldiers with any kind of personal problem were told to buck up and get a grip.

This culture of fear and abuse'salong with a dilapidated 400-year-old film studio'swas the inheritance passed on from the Soviet military to its independent Lithuanian successor. Along with virtually everything else that makes up the NATO-standard armed forces in today's Baltic states, a pattern of moral behavior and mutual respect for all members of the military had to be designed from scratch.

In Roman Catholic Lithuania, there was little doubt from the start that the church would play a prominent role in the formation of a military moral code. The traditional ecclesiastical weight in social affairs is reflected in the country's legal structures, where the line separating church and state is less defined than in strictly secular governments. Moral tendencies were finally translated into legal status in 2000, when the Lithuanian government signed an official treaty with the Holy See that created a chaplaincy corps for the military. The agreement, which was ratified before long by the Seimas (Lithuania's parliament) and the Vatican's Conference of Bishops, officially put the Church at the heart of the military's ethical vision. Just three years later, services are held daily at St. Ignatius', on the very premises of the Defense Ministry.

External battles, internal struggles

Perched in his shiny office in the loft of St. Ignatius', Juozas Grazulis peers down on the building where Lithuania's most important defense policies are made. "Anyone who's served will tell you: every soldier believes in something," he says.

Grazulis, the military's head chaplain, relates a story told to him by Valdas Tutkus, supreme commander of the armed forces. Like most who served in the Soviet army in Afghanistan, Tutkus participated in a bloody and violent conflict driven by opaque motives. "He said that up until that point, he'd never had to think about life's most difficult questions. Everyone involved was struggling to find meaning in the situation."

Some 20 years later, Lithuanian troops are once again serving in an unruly Afghanistan-this time as peacekeepers and aid workers, shoulder-to-shoulder with forces from other NATO nations.

By the very nature of their profession, soldiers will always find themselves faced with extraordinary circumstances rarely experienced by those of us who work behind a desk. Finding yourself in the middle of a gunfight in a faraway country can provoke an existential crisis different from one felt booting up your computer on a Monday morning.

Since its creation four years ago, the chaplaincy corps' mission has been to journey with soldiers as they confront these difficult questions.

The 16 chaplains'sall Roman Catholic priests'swork in every corner of the military's operations, including Lithuania's peacekeeping forces in Kosovo. "The basis of our work is just to be with them, to be there with them in their daily lives," says Remigijus Butkevicius, chaplain to the military post in the southern city of Alytus.

According to the chaplains, military life often precipitates family issues that occur less frequently than in the civilian world. Soldiers preparing for missions abroad often encounter depression or domestic conflicts as they get ready to leave their spouses and children for months on end. Chaplaincy services are available to both the enlisted and their relatives in the run-up to foreign missions.

But a soldier's turbulent domestic life can often boil over into his or her military one under normal circumstances as well. "The structure of military routine causes many young people to look at their lives anew," Grazulis says. "Let's say someone comes from a troubled household. When he enters the service, all of a sudden he can look at his background from a distance. This can often release some powerful feelings," he says.

While chaplains make it clear that they are available for consultation at any time, the corps stresses that no soldier is ever forced to turn to them. Nor do they neglect the needs of those from other faiths and confessions.

An initiative to add Lutheran and Russian Orthodox chaplains to the corps was nixed by the Defense Ministry two years ago after a feasibility study showed demographics weren't on their side. "The fact is the vast majority of our soldiers are Roman Catholic. If someone wants to meet with clergy from a different confession, he can inform the chaplain, and we arrange a meeting according to our means," Grazulis says. The unusually high frequency of adult Roman Catholic baptisms among recruits is due to their free access to their spiritual guides in the military, chaplains say.

The effect of the chaplaincy on the armed forces is tangible. Upholding high moral standards has become a guiding priority for top brass as they continue to reform military structures. What's more, there is a constant sense in the armed forces of a strong pastoral presence backing up every dangerous step the organization and its members take'seven when that step leads them beyond this life.

While funerals for deceased family members are routinely held at military chapels, chaplains are prepared for the inevitable tragic day when a soldier is killed in action. "The state funeral will be held right here," Grazulis says.