What possessed a Catholic
archbishop to take a bride in one of the Rev Moon's controversial
mass weddings? Charles Laurence finds out
ARCHBISHOP
Emmanuel Milingo is getting a big cuddle from his wife of just one
week, and looking rather alarmed. This is because the 71-year-old is
a priest of the Church of Rome and has been celibate throughout his
life. He is not used to the warm affections of a wife, and as Maria
Sung - the new Mrs Milingo - puts an arm around his waist, slipping
her hand under his black suit jacket and pressing her smiling face
to his chest, he seems confused about what to do with his hands.
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The
newly-weds: 'I have been chaste since I was 12,' says Milingo,
'and it has been a
struggle' |
As
if getting married were not controversial enough, Milingo
decided to do it at a mass wedding conducted by the Rev Sun Myung
Moon of the Unification Church, which is not at all
the same organisation as the Roman Catholic Church.
Milingo looks down at his bride, puts his own arm cautiously
around her shoulder and then looks up with a big beaming smile full
of fine white teeth. It is a touching moment. We are standing under
a glaring neon cross hung above a church in the old Hell's Kitchen
district of Manhattan, and the archbishop is beginning to relax.
He loves the cross. On one side, it reads: "Get right with God"
and that, he chuckles, is just what he has devoted his life to
doing. On the other side, facing Times Square, it blazes out a stark
warning in red neon: "Sin will find you out".
It is a matter of debate which of these messages applies in the
case of the archbishop, who felt his calling while tending cattle on
the grasslands of Zambia in the Forties. He has been at odds with
the Vatican for 20 years, and has long been known as the Voodoo
Priest, because of the way he tailored Catholicism to suit his
African flock - entire services would be devoted to faith healing,
exorcism and speaking in tongues. Unsurprisingly, he was recalled to
Rome in the early Eighties, to be kept under the watchful eye of the
Curia.
But he knows that the Vatican might think that, in flouting his
priestly obligation to celibacy, he
has gone too far this time. A few hundred years ago,
they would have been stacking up the kindling - the thought makes
him chuckle.
"If I am called before the Pope, I will go," he says, "but I will
have no more of inquisitions. And if I do see His Holiness, then I
will explain that I have made some noise, OK, but it is the Church
that must come to terms with the need for marriage in modern times."
Milingo is clearly tired after concluding a meeting with some
visitors from Rome, who suggested that he had been kidnapped and
brainwashed by Moon, but he is ready for a bit of cut and thrust
with his Church.
"Let us understand this," he begins. "I am still chaste. In the
Rev Moon's church, we must be chaste for 40 days after marriage.
This is so that we may get to know each other as brother and sister.
This form of marriage is a very strong way of fighting sex. There is
a lot of chastity in the Rev Moon's teaching."
Mrs Milingo is a small, well-rounded woman of 43 with a big smile
and the warm, easy-going manner of a nurse - in fact, she has had a
thriving career as an acupuncturist. Her full name is Sung Ryae
Soon. Like Moon, she comes from South Korea and she had been a
member of his Church for years before being nominated for duty as a
bride.
In broken English and with nervous glances for approval, she
makes it clear that she believes her marriage to be a matter of
divine destiny, a union ordered by God and Moon, and that she
certainly plans to fulfill her vows when her 40 days of waiting are
up.
We sit in a steel-and-glass diner in the heart of Manhattan,
sipping tea and lemonade. The night blares with the din of Mammon
beyond the window. "Delaying consummation may seem very hard," the
archbishop says. "And I know that, from the outside, it looks
impossible." I find myself in the rather odd position of asking an
elderly Roman Catholic bishop if, well will he? And has he ever?
Milingo is not embarrassed. In fact, he is enjoying himself.
"Whether we have children in this union will be up to God," he says.
"But the Bible records that Abraham became a father at 100, so it is
possible, if God wills it." And as for the second question, the
answer is "no".
"I had no chance," he says. "I was herding cattle - a shepherd,
you see - when I was eight, and then, at 12, I went away to school
at the seminary. And then, at 28, I was ordained a priest. So you
might say I have been celibate since I was 12, and it has been a
struggle, yes, but it is one I have overcome with much prayer and
fasting."
Sex clearly remains in the realm of theory and dogma. But Milingo
knows his stuff when
it comes to tangling with cardinals and Popes.
In the Seventies, he was a hugely popular Archbishop of Lusaka
whose methods were rather more violent and literal than the Church
had grown used to in the West. His congregation would be a writhing,
dancing mass; eyes rolling, demons shrieking, spirits babbling in
unknown tongues, and the blessed fainting away in holy ecstasy.
Milingo dubbed this his healing ministry. "I discovered the gift
of receiving the Holy Spirit in a most direct way, and of healing,"
he explains. "I knew this to be my mission. The problem is that the
Church has never accepted my mission."
Milingo's critics feared that he had crossed the line from a
useful "Africanisation" of European orthodoxy to a new version of
voodoo. Something, it seemed, had gone to the head of a once
promising priest.
"I received this message from God in 1973, and my life changed,"
he says. "Many, many people were healed by my gift. But the reaction
of the Devil was indeed terrible. The Church said I must choose
between preaching and healing. They did not understand what it was
that God wanted from me."
Milingo's apparently successful exorcisms were of particular
concern. Shortly after he had been consecrated as archbishop, a
woman visited him in a pitiful state, convinced that her newborn
child had been so deeply invaded by the spirit of an animal that he
was no longer human. The species of animal remains unclear, but
Milingo suspected the work of a demon. He began to pray. "For three
days, I prayed and meditated and prayed and the woman was terribly
tormented. But I could feel the enemy, I could feel the force in my
hands, it was as tangible as the presence of the Lord. I succeeded
in touching that woman, and I touched the Devil that day, and I cast
him out. And that began 30 years of exorcisms."
The sort of folk who frequent New York diners late into the night
have fallen silent around us, their eyes wide and their heads
nodding with enthusiasm. I hear a muttered "Amen".
How did he do it? "With the power of the Holy Spirit," the
archbishop answers.
Yes, but how? "Well, I use the formula written by Pope Leo XIII,"
he says.
But what did that Devil feel like? "You must do these things," he
responds with a little laugh, "by reaching the same plain of
spiritual existence as that demon or that Devil, so I really cannot
tell you what he felt like physically."
In 1982, clerics were sent to investigate Milingo and he was
brought before a tribunal of Propaganda Fidei, the department in
charge of missionary territories. After more than a year, he was
summoned by Pope John Paul himself, and told that his innovations
were deemed to have threatened the dignity of the faith. But he
would remain an archbishop, in Rome, under the authority of the
Pope's Secretary of State, working for the Pontifical Council for
Pastoral Care of Migrants and Itinerant Peoples. The Pope told him
that "we should do all we can to safeguard your charisma", and
allowed him to roam with his healing ministry, on the condition that
he was always to notify the local bishop.
His reputation spread. Several television documentaries were
made, and Milingo appeared to become settled in Rome, learning
fluent Italian and playing host to bishops from the growing Catholic
congregations of Africa.
But then he began to meet members of Moon's unusual sect. He had
decided, he says, that "family values" and the proper education of
children were the only hope of preserving civilisation as we know
it, and he liked what he found in the Moon teaching. "I believe that
you are never too old to learn, and I have learnt a lot from the Rev
Moon. He wants to purify society and build a priestly world through
marriage."
Sex, he says, was indeed the Fall of Man and, ever since Adam and
Eve, there has been fornication, adultery and prostitution to rot
the spirit and sow disharmony within the community. Milingo does not
seem terribly keen on the practical aspects of abandoning his vow of
chastity, whatever Mrs Milingo thinks.
He says that he very much likes the idea of a Moon marriage being
between three people - "man, woman and God" - and recalls how he has
always crusaded for the sanctity of marriage and the importance of
family. But why did he have to get married himself?
"I just decided," he says, with a schoolboy smile, "to practise
what I preach."
29
May 2001: [International] Vatican ousts married bishop
28
May 2001: [International] Moonie marriage at 71 for archbishop
26
October 2000: Moon and his ballet stars [Rev Moon's dance
company]
7
February 1999: [International] Vatican enraged by return of the
'exorcist witch doctor'
23
November 1998: The dark side of the Moons [article about girl
trapped in moonie cult]
2
November 1995: [UK News] Sun Myung Moon's kingdom on earth covers
120
countries