Poland's New Building Boom

By Kenneth W. Banta/Radom

During the 14 years he was Archbishop of Cracow, Karol Wojtyla was able to get only one major church built. The vast new edifice in the model socialist town of Nowa Huta was reluctantly allowed by a government that witlessly believed a deterioration of faith would follow a deterioration of facilities. After he became Pope in 1978, John Paul II did not forget the frustration. Preparing for his first trip back to Poland, in 1979, the Pontiff took advantage of his countrymen's continued fervor in opposition to Communism's ongoing freeze. In negotiating with a beleaguered regime that did not want to appear to be blocking the papal journey, John Paul forced a promise to end the near total 40-year ban on new churches.

The results, slow at first, are flowering now with a burst of construction. Since 1981 some 1,500 new churches have been completed, bringing the national total to about 15,000. Currently, more than 1,000 others are under way. The boom represents what may be the largest increase in Christian churches anywhere in the world today.

The new buildings range from tiny mountain chapels to huge urban complexes. After so long, the need for them is great. More than 90% of the country's 37 million people are Roman Catholics. And though some churches swamped with the faithful offer as many as a dozen Sunday Masses, it is not uncommon to see worshipers spilling over into the yards and streets outside.

Despite the relaxed official stance, building a church in Poland is still enough to tax the patience -- and ingenuity -- of a saint. In a pattern that is typical for the country, architects and many of the others involved must squeeze their work on church projects into spare time after doing their official work on state-commissioned schools and apartment blocks. A chronic shortage of building materials is the biggest problem. Some parishes hire a staffer to forage throughout the country full time on the trail of everything from nails to cement. State-run factories are under orders to avoid selling materials to the Catholic Church, but the scavengers skillfully play on the religious feelings of bureaucrats: sometimes they hand out religious calendars and books to get a foot in the door. Occasionally they even stage a sit-in.

The new churches have generated something of an architectural renaissance. Drab city centers and run-down villages are sprouting postmodern chapels, delicate Oriental bell towers and high-tech confections of steel girders and stained glass. Not all are distinctive, but Krzysztof Chwalibog, deputy chairman of the Association of Polish Architects in Warsaw, contends, "This is bringing back good design to Poland." Good workmanship too. Unlike secular Polish buildings, which seem to sag and crack even before completion, most churches are being built to last. The same workmen who rarely worry about right angles for the state are lavishing care on ecclesiastical projects. They are inspired by faith and the commitment of most congregations to pay wages of $200 to $300 a month, up to double the average that is earned on government projects. Says one worker, muffled and gloved against the winter chill: "The state gets quantity. The church gets quality."

The greatest impact is on the spirits and spirituality of the laity. "By building a new church, we create a different world," says Eugeniusz Kliminski, 53, a priest in Radom, an industrial city 60 miles south of Warsaw. Day by day he watches Our Lady, Queen of Apostles, rising in his parish. When the semicircular structure is finished, topped by a soaring burnished-copper roof, it will be a glittering exception to Radom's gloomy skyline. But the work is going slowly. Money is in short supply, despite contributions from as far away as France and Italy. At the present rate, Queen of Apostles will probably not be completed before Christmas 1994. That may seem like an eternity. But it has taken no enthusiasm away from the effort. Says Sylwester Wojcieszek, 35, a baker: "We have been waiting a very long time for this. It will be something that we pass on to our children."