Building A Dream: Airmen help Polish monk realize his vision, brick by brick

Airman, Dec, 2001 by Louis A. Arana-Barradas

The Rev. Pawel Zawadzki had a simple dream. He wanted to build a church in South Korea. A place of sanctuary, worship and brotherhood that would stand the test of time.

So for the past seven years, the Polish missionary from Warsaw has been building the Chapel of Merciful Jesus. Although at times he's faced setbacks, it has always been a labor of love.

The charismatic priest loves talking - at a mile-a-minute clip - about the church and the blessing of how it came to be on a mountain. His desire to finish is so strong it's infectious.

"Why? Because our Lord wants us to build a chapel on this mountain," he said.

So Zawadzki set out to build his church. He never asked for help to build it. But others heard of his mission - how he was building a church by himself - and offered to help. Among the volunteers are American troops from camps and bases on the divided peninsula. They come for their own reasons and now share the monk's dream.

Some, like Airman 1st Class Frederick Sheppard, say it's some of the most meaningful work they've ever done. The 604th Air Support Operations Squadron supply troop at Camp Red Cloud - a two-hour drive northwest of the church - also enjoys meeting others.

"We're working together to build something special," he said. "That's a good thing."

Building the church hasn't been easy. But then, it's not a typical parish church.

It's located in a small clearing in the woods some 700 feet up a steep mountainside near the town of Kawondong, 70 miles southeast of the South Korean capital of Seoul. From there, one gets a breathtaking view of a serene river valley dotted with rice fields.

"It's amazing how this place gives you unbelievable peace," Zawadzki said.

But getting to the church isn't easy and may test one's faith. It's a slow, bone-jarring journey up a winding trail full of holes, ruts and rocks. The trail, which the monks hacked out of the forest, plays havoc on vehicles. Zawadzki has had to give last rites to two trucks and three all-terrain vehicles he's used to haul building materials to the site.

On her first trip to the church, Staff Sgt. Ileen McCaffrey kept passing small buildings on a paved road. She thought each one was "Father Paul's" - what Americans call Zawadzki - church. When she reached the road to the church, she held her breath,

"We just kept climbing - you had to hold on," said McCaffrey, also a supply troop at Camp Red Cloud, "When we finally reached the church, all I could say was 'ooh,' what a ride."

Even after seven years of work, the church still doesn't look like much. It has half a roof and no steeple. No bell or cross aimed at heaven. There are no pews. A huge scaffold stands next to it. And around it lie heaps of bricks and piles of sand, lumber, steel beams and pipes.

When a breeze blows, it rustles the clear plastic sheets that act as some of its second-floor walls, But the priest sees way past the cluttered construction site.

"Isn't it the most beautiful church you've ever seen?" Zawadzki asks anyone who visits the site. "It's God's will that we are here."

He's sure he's right about that.

In the beginning

Zawadzki began his journey to the mountain 11 years ago. That's when he and two other Polish monks of the Pallotine Order of Fathers and Brothers left Poland to establish their order in South Korea. That task eventually will take 30 to 40 years. But like the construction of the church -- which will take at least two more years to finish -- he's in no hurry.

"Yes, I know we still have so much to do," he said. "But we have plenty of time."

To survive in Korea the monks took work where they could find it. They worked in hospitals, as counselors and helping the homeless. Zawadzki soon had his own Korean parish.

There was also -- and still is -- a shortage of Catholic priests in Korea to perform mass in English. So a few years ago, Zawadzki began working at American bases. Then he became one of the priests at the chapel at Osan Air Base, about an hour and a half drive from the church.

While establishing themselves, the monks lived in different cities since they didn't have a house of their own.

"We really needed a home," Zawadzki said. "A place to call our own."

They prayed for a home. But as poor missionaries in a foreign land, there was little hope they could earn enough money to build one. That situation changed one day some seven years ago.

"One day, my Lord inspired some Korean people living on this mountain," Zawadzki said. The Koreans, followers of the Order of Carmelites, live like monks. They asked the brothers if they wanted a piece of land to build a church. It was the answer to their prayers.

"It was like a star from heaven," he said. "A true gift from God."

Now the monks could do what they'd set Out to do: build a church, a home and chapel for their order and a sanctuary to welcome travelers. With no money, but plenty of spirit, they started building their church. It was, literally, an uphill battle.

For one, they had to spend most of the time performing their duties as priests, so the going was slow. They didn't have funds for building materials. Plus, their remote plot of land didn't have electrical power or running water. There wasn't even a road.