Rebuilding The House of God; Transnistria. July 2006
National Catholc Register
A bomb blast on a bus last month in the breakaway region of Transnistria killing eight people has again reminded the world of the many unresolved conflicts still festering inside the former Soviet Republic. Fifteen years since the collapse of communism and four regions* are still under the control of internationally unrecognized governments and with no end in sight to the political, economical and communal stagnation.

Although the controlling government of Transnistria has explained the bomb as an unfortunate accident unrelated to the separatist conflict tensions with Moldova, which claims sovereignty over the tiny strip of land has escalated. A recent blockade of Transnistria�s products by its surrounding nations Moldova and Ukraine in an attempt to squeeze out a settlement has instigated a retaliation from Russia, supporters of the ethnic-Russian government in Transnistria, with a sudden banning of Moldovan wines, a serious blow to Europe�s poorest nation that relies on its agricultural export. Last year 80% of its wine export went to Russia, 288 million bottles estimated at 250 million dollars.

�I don�t wish to speak of this subject,� says Fr. Tadevsz Magierowski who�s congregation at the St. Joseph�s church, overlooking the heavily guarded boarder along the Nistru River in the city Ribnitza, Transnistria, is still picking up the pieces left after fifty years of communist oppressions that have often been compared to the waves of persecutions over the early Christians. Many churches during the communist period were destroyed or in the case of St. Joseph�s was turned into a warehouse for arms and ammunition. According to Monsignor Benone Farcas at the bishopric in Chisinau there had been 35,000 Catholics in Moldova before communism of which approximately 20,000 remain.
�You could say that the Catholics of today are the grandchildren and great grandchildren of Catholic,� Monsignor Farcas says explaining the deep gap in the generations caused by these persecutions.

Fr. Magierowski groups his congregation into three divisions; an old generation that was raised with Christianity or taught by their parents and a young generation growing up with freedoms to believe as they choose. In the middle languishes the largest group that had learned Christianity from the older generation but was deeply stigmatized by the anti-Christian propaganda taught in the schools. An outward show of faith in those times could lead to problems at work or discontinuation of a furthered education. �I have many people in my congregation who told me that they were caught wearing a cross in school. It was ripped off their necks and they were put in a corner of the room and laughed at by their classmates� From a psychological point of view the middle community still feels that pressure and no longer has the ability to believe as they feel. This will follow them till the end of their lives.�
Twenty miles over the rough Transnistrian steppes, nested between the fields of corn and sunflowers stands the quiet little Catholic village of Slobozia Rashcov. About 1000 people reside in the village that was established in 1747 with seven families as a Beneficium to support the Catholic Church at the neighboring village of Rashcov.

�The Catholic faith has always been very strong here,� says Fr. Henryk Soroka who came from Poland after the breakup of the Soviet Union to help refill the void of clergy. The majority of Catholics in Transnistria are of Polish origin having settled here before Tzarist Russia took control in the late 18th century.
    Though the Russian language is heard in the streets and spoken in the schools the Catholic mass is still primarily spoken in Polish.
During the communist era religious gatherings were secretly held in peoples homes. Not till the 1970�s did the villagers finally decided to come out and build their own church. �When the authorities arrived with their trucks to knock it down the people put their bodies around the church,� explains the village priest Fr. Dimitri Zelinski. �They took the people out in buses and left them miles away. It was wintertime and they took their shoes so they could feel just how forceful the law is. When they returned to their village the church was gone.� A pacific statue of the Virgin Mary with outstretched arms now stands over the spot where the illicit church once stood.�
In the 1980�s the villagers tried again this time expanding on an existing structure that they explained to the authorities as being an expansion to an old woman�s house. The St Marta�s church that stands today is a simple structure with clean white stucco walls and bright lacquered pine trimmings. Persian carpets cover the dull cement floor. Fr. Soroka points out the many angles in the ceiling caused by the numerous slow editions.

�Once the steeple went up then the police realized something wasn�t right,� says Fr. Zelinski with a shaking of his finger. �The old woman who owned the house made it very clear and said to them �you can do with me what you want, but my house will be a church�. By this time I think they had had enough with the people of Slobozia Rashcov and it was accepted.�

Communism had been defeated yet the new enemy to the church has risen in the form of the increasing poverty and depopulation of people for work abroad. In all Moldova one million people, a quarter of the population has left.

�I can compare the situation in the village today to that at wartimes,� says Fr. Soroka standing out by the village well. �There are few people left, just women, children and the elderly.�

Fr. Magierowski agrees, adding, �this community survived the hard communist times. To them the church means life but that community is again in threat of disappearing.�
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