A Discussion with Martin Kiet-Pham, S.J., Scholastic, London

With: Martin Kiet-Pham Berkley Center Profile

July 23, 2012

Background: In this exchange on July 23, 2012 via Skype in London, Martin Kiet-Pham, S.J., and Colin Steele discussed the status of the Catholic Church and the Jesuits in Vietnam. In addition, the conversation also covers the differences between Vietnam and Europe and the status of the Jesuits.

Describe your vocation as a Jesuit.

I started coming into contact with Jesuits—who were then underground in Vietnam—in 1992. My sister had met some in Saigon, and she introduced me to the first few. From there, I began spending more time with them on my own accord. After six years of getting to know the Jesuits, I felt called to religious life and the service of others. At one point, I visited an orphanage for poor children, befriended them, and promised them that I would do something for them. If I had to choose one moment when I knew that I was going to actually enter the Jesuits, that was it. After making my promise to the kids, I read a pamphlet on life in the Society [of Jesus], and I was excited by the idea of pursuing a variety of different professions while contributing my talents to the Church. I entered the novitiate in 1999 and had to ask government permission to do so since the order was still officially suppressed (the novitiate wasn’t allowed to be public until 2004).

What’s the state of the Jesuits and the Church in Vietnam today? Are there any cultural issues that really distinguish the Vietnamese church?

We should begin at the beginning. The Jesuits arrived in Vietnam twice, the first time in the real missionary heyday. The Dominicans were already there, however, and they reported to Rome that the Jesuits were being too accommodating of local practices. The Jesuits were ordered to close their mission, and they did not return until 1957. At this point, about 7 percent of Vietnamese are Catholic, and the Jesuits there are more focused on serving people in need than converting everyone else. The priests are basically there to help in parishes and to do their own work up in the rural mountain communities. The government is scared of the Jesuits and has put a stop to missionary work in the mountains. The government is worried about any outside influences reaching those rural communities, particularly the critical tradition or liberation theology.

As to the overall state of the Church in Vietnam, it’s small but healthy enough. About seven percent of the country is Catholic, and we see about 12 to 15 vocations a year. Two-thirds of our Jesuits are in formation, and most are quite young (23 to 40 years old). It’s getting a little easier for us to find vocations now that the novitiate is no longer conducted in secret.

How about the spirituality of the Church there? I imagine it’s different from Western Europe.

The Asian Church in general is influenced by the Confucian tradition, which actually means that the silence and contemplation of the Spiritual Exercises fits the culture well. The liturgy, of course, is consistent with Catholic liturgy across the globe, but there are some unique practical additions in the Vietnamese church, such as consistently having incense burning in the church or involving Buddhist-style chant in the liturgy (i.e. the priest chants the liturgy and the worshippers chant the responses). We also use traditional Vietnamese music. Overall, church is very quiet and meditative; people don’t talk or sing very loudly but concentrate on their internal experience more than is the average in Europe and North America. Of course national and local churches will always retain their special cultural and traditional heritage, but I could see the contemplative tradition of the Asian church making a mark on the more “traditional” Western branch in the coming years, which might be good for both.

What’s it like for you to be living and working in the Western European context, then? What helps you process the cultural differences and contribute some of your own?

During my formation, I lived in Arrupe House in Manila for two and a half years. There were 18 different nationalities represented in that house, and so that time taught me a lot about what it’s like to live in community with people of vastly different backgrounds and cultures. One thing it really reinforced for me, though, was that I joined the Society, not a specific province or region. We were (and are) many men of many backgrounds all in the same order, and we each have something to contribute. In Arrupe House, we use to alternate cooking dinner so that each person could introduce the others to a sample of his own culture. We actually do much the same thing in the community I’m living in in London now. The end result is that London appears to me a different community but in a recognizable context—it’s quite international and each member has something to add, whether it’s a traditional dinner, a lesson with chopsticks, or teaching each other bad words in our respective languages!

What I’ve found in all this is that the more I open myself to new places and experiences, the more I learn and the better I do. If I can’t or won’t bring myself to open up, I can’t and won’t learn anything—and I won’t adjust well as a result. To be sure, opening up like that is difficult and sometimes worrisome; plenty of people get scared and refuse to do so. Still, Ignatius insisted that you have to be open to the whole Society and the whole world, and he’s absolutely right. You have to approach and be approachable, because truth is only found in openness. Moreover, as a Jesuit, I remind myself constantly that God is to be found in all things, people, and cultures. If that’s the case, then it’s my job to seek him out in whatever context I find myself and from there try to discern how better to serve him (ad maiorem Dei gloriam). Traveling and studying in a variety of places, I’ve learned what it really means to live my vocation. I like to learn new and challenging things, to search for the magis, and to work on realizing the Ignatian ideal of indifference. I have grown in all those areas through my travels and studies, and I know that if I were not open to novelty and growth, I couldn’t live my vocation.

Finally, could you comment on what you see as the greatest strengths and weaknesses of the Jesuits and their charism? What does the Society have to offer the world and vice-versa?

One of the best things about the Jesuit way is how it produces people who are not limited to place and circumstance but are open to the whole world. We’re prepared and—at our best—eager to overcome ourselves and open up to the people and places we encounter. We are also committed to being persons for others, which again is conditioned on openness—the more we open, the more helpful we can be. Another gift of the order is our broad and deep vision of humanity. We have a lot to say about the human ability to grow, to learn, to open, and to self-transcend. We’re also clear that achieving any of those things is predicated on one’s willing of them, and we have a time-honored tool in the [Spiritual] Exercises for discerning and willing our best selves. In terms of challenges, numbers are of course an issue, as are the logistics of the processes that we go through in our formation and vocations. Learning languages, traveling, and developing real flexibility are not easily or quickly done. Still, as I say, much of success depends on will. Faced with challenges, you’ve got to want to overcome them before you can begin to do so. Luckily, that’s possible, and I’ve seen a lot of friends in the order overcome what they thought were their capabilities.

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