Theologians fret as Spanish fold awaits visit by pope

Posters advertise it like a rock concert, and Pope John Paul II's visit this weekend will surely draw vast crowds. But beyond all the excitement, the Catholic church's powerful grip on Spain has receded into history.

Abortion and divorce are legal in this mostly Roman Catholic nation of 40 million. Birthrates are at historic lows and, according to polls, only about a quarter attend church at least once a month.

These trends are commonplace among predominantly Catholic European democracies. The difference is that until the death in 1975 of its longtime dictator, Gen. Francisco Franco, Spain was the most Catholic country on the Continent,

The pope, who turns 83 this month, arrives Saturday on the fifth visit to Spain of his 24-year papacy. But his 32-hour stay, limited to Madrid, will be very different from the first, in 1982: a grueling, eight-day, 18-stop tour that brought 10 million people onto the streets, church officials say.

Church officials are warning people that the John Paul II they'll see this time won't be that energetic figure in flowing white robes but a frail, ailing man who says Mass sitting on a rolling, hydraulic chair.

"We must live this trip as if it were the Pope's last word to Spain," Cardinal Antonio Maria Rouco, the archbishop of Madrid, said last week.

The main events are a youth prayer meeting Saturday and an open-air Mass Sunday at which the pope will canonize five 20th century Spanish priests and nuns known for their work with the poor. The church says it expects up to 300,000 people at the rally and a million at the Mass.

Rouco, chairman of the Spanish Bishops Conference, said last summer that while 80 percent of Spaniards consider themselves Catholic, half ignore church teachings and for them the religion is more an inherited tag than a way of life.

Enrique Miret Magdalena, president of an association of progressive theologians, said the church, like Spain, in general, has been transformed since Franco died and the country became a democracy.

For nearly four decades the church worked hand in hand with the regime to whip Spain into a nation of submissive churchgoers. A baby couldn't even be baptized unless it was named after a saint.

Franco's death stripped away an artificial source of support for the church, Miret Magdalena said.

"Everyone said they were Catholic, but we didn't know if deep down inside there was a crisis. And what happened? When the Franco regime ended, we learned there was a true crisis, and it is growing," he said.

Not all theologians are so gloomy. What matters is quality, not quantity, says Enrique Bonete, a philosophy professor at the University of Salamanca.

"Those who live Christian lives these days do so not out of Catholic tradition, or some kind of pressure, or Catholic culture, but out of personal conviction," he said.

Even today, however, the church is well represented in government. The defense and justice ministers and the attorney general belong to Opus Dei, a conservative lay organization known for its rigorous defense of Catholic teachings.

But secularization has dug in so deep that Spanish government officials must keep their religion close to their chests, says Juan Antonio Martinez Camino, a Jesuit priest and professor of theology for the archdiocese of Madrid. Quoting the Bible or citing religious values "is neither politically correct nor politically productive," he said.

The legacy of Spain's Catholic tradition is more visible in other facets of public life, however.

Most young couples still marry in churches, and the calendar is rich in religious holidays which Spaniards use to stretch weekends into three- or four-day getaways to the beach or mountains. Italians and Portuguese get seven such holidays per year. In Spain it can be as many as 11.

And no government would dream of trimming these perks. They are sacred.