Fun, Fear...And Faith

Christianity appears to be in acute crisis in western Europe. Nobody seems to be going to church anymore, certainly not the young. Europe has some of the most stunning churches in the world, virtual museums of priceless art that are designed to inspire awe. Hordes of people throng to these famous Gothic and baroque churches in France, Austria, Spain, Italy, Switzerland and Belgium. But they are mos-tly tourists, not devotees. The smaller churches that dot Europe's scenic villages and small towns look increasingly like mausoleums. In fact, more and more are closing down. In the Dutch town of Maastricht, one church has been converted to a boarding house, another to a cycle park and a third is now a night club! Protestants don't have to go to church, so theirs look even more abandoned and desolate. For Catholics though, it's mandatory to go to church on Sundays. But across Western Europe, attendance is thin, mostly confined to the middle-aged and the elderly. And they seem to go to church as much out of habit as piety.

So where have all the young gone? Gone maybe to the gym, the woods, restaurants, certainly not to church. Western Europe has evolved in such a way that there is no place for faith or God in the lives of the young. Rationality and materialism are the new mantras. The 30-plus are too busy getting on with their lives—working hard, raising children, paying mortgages, planning holidays—to have time for God. The emptiness in Europe's churches is in such stark contrast to the reality in India. In the 1960s, the churches and temples we visited seemed serene with an orderly stream of pilgrims. By the late 1990s, they were congested with the flow of devotees swelling to an uncontrollable torrent. This swell cannot be merely accounted by population growth. Apart from the large numbers, it is interesting to see a much larger turnout of youth. Watching the faces of the faithful is even more revealing. There is an air of desperation, of prayers uttered fervently, almost as if they are pleading with God. The same worried, desperate look is likewise imprinted on the faces of Muslims as they stream out of mosques in Iraq or Saudi Arabia.

And perhaps in this lies a clue as to why more and more Indians, Asians, Africans and Muslims are turning to God. Life is hard, and insecure. There are no guarantees. The secular governments are failing, unable to provide even the basics—education, food, health care, jobs and old age security. Our annual college admission rush is a grim reminder of the harsh insecurities our teenagers and their parents face. Those who pass out make desperate rounds to find jobs. Adding an edge to this desperation is the realisation that our system is unfair too. When you can't depend on merit, fair play or the government for the basics in life, what do you do? You only have God to turn to. This has probably contributed to the deluge of devotees.

This could also explain the trickle in European churches. In most of these countries, the welfare system has replaced the need for God. Citizens are guaranteed education, jobs. They are guaranteed pension and a place in old-age homes. They don't have to depend on their children or pray to God to protect them in their old age. The state will. Of course in return they have to work hard, pay taxes and obey the law. But there is a degree of predictability and security that has made God increasingly irrelevant in Europe. Christian values are still very important though—charity, accountabil-ity, justice, fair play, egalitarianism are all entrenched in the system. Some of the best values of religion are incorpora-ted into basic governance. So then who needs religion? For spiritual nourishment, most Europeans now turn to Nature.

This is not to say that corruption does not exist in the west.It does, but it is certainly not institutionalised the way it is in our part of the world, nor does it intrude into ordinary people's daily lives. For instance, a European villager would never have to bribe to get medicines from a government hospital or grease the palms of municipal authorities to build a house. On the other hand, nothing can save you if you break a law. You may know the prime minister or the police chief. Tough luck. The strict laws are a powerful deterrent, contributing immensely to maintaining social stability and order.

But cracks are now surfacing. Economic crises and wasteful, unproductive programmes are forcing more and more European governments to cut back on their welfare spending. Unemployment is rising, workers are getting the sack and pensions are being cut. Globalisation is spawning insecurities as showcased by the street protests against the G-8 leaders in Geneva. Church leaders realise they cannot be complacent and wait for rising insecurities to propel Europeans into their churches (now frequented mainly by immigrants—Africans, Indians and Filipinos). They have to be proactive as the crisis runs deep. There are very few now choosing to become nuns and priests, and the spate of child abuse scandals is certainly not helping. Some churches are now trying to reinvent themselves by initiating bold experiments to lure the young. Classical Mozart or Haydn concerts in churches are common, but for the first time, the parish of the Lazaritan church in Vienna organised a jazz mass last Sunday. It was incredible to see the famous musician Oscar Klein play his trumpet and the drummer embark on a long, heart-thumping solo in front of the altar. The whole experience was more Woodstockian than ecclesiastical. The church was packed and the Christians were swinging—tapping their feet, nodding their heads, swaying to the rhythm. Perhaps, a combination of fun and fear may yet lure Europeans back into churches in the coming years.