MYRA WATKINS

In wartime Ukraine, Evangelical leaders have shifted their focus and practices towards holistic ministry. Pastor Mykola Romaniuk of Irpin Bible Church—one of 13 Evangelical churches in the town of Irpin (Kyiv Region)—has been leading a small team that transports evacuees to safety and provides refuge in church facilities. “We were here for 20 years, and neighbors never set foot in our church,” he remarks. “Now they are living in our basement, praying with us, and  have become our friends.”1 After evacuating to Lviv in western Ukraine, Romaniuk has found that God has given his church a new ministry, “with the homeless, the handicapped, and the nonbelievers of our town.” 

Ivan Rusyn, president of the Ukrainian Evangelical Theological Seminary (UETS) in Kyiv, co-ordinates relief with his seven remaining colleagues from the offices of the Ukrainian Bible Society, where he sleeps on the floor at night. The team was forced to evacuate the seminary as it found itself only a thousand feet from the frontlines. “It is a catastrophe,” he said. “There is fear in the eyes of the children.” Rusyn has vowed to stay in the Ukrainian capital as long as President Volodymyr Zelensky remains: “This war has completely redefined my understanding of mission and holistic ministry. You cannot show compassion from a distance.” He believes that Christian leaders who remain in Kyiv and other cities “are the incarnated witness of Jesus Christ.”

 A colleague at UETS, Pastor Fyodor Raychynets stayed in the Kyiv area in order to serve as what he calls the “rear guard” to those on the frontline. He assists people who suffer the most, such as hungry and afraid elderly sheltering in their basements without electricity. He also helps the territorial defense with medicine, clothing, and shoes, but not weapons. He prays to retain his humanity in the face of war.2

Russia’s 24 February invasion has stranded an estimated 13 million people in affected areas of Ukraine, unable to evacuate due to heightened security risks.3 As bombardments force people to seek cover in bomb shelters, millions of Ukrainians live in uncertainty and under imminent threat. According to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), more than 6.5 million people are internally displaced in Ukraine. Four million have fled the country, with many seeking refuge in neighboring Poland. The numbers are rising daily.4 Since all Ukrainian men between the ages of 18 and 60 cannot leave the country and may be conscripted to military service, women and children typically flee alone and have endured significant trauma. 

Close to the Polish border, an estimated 200,000 people have settled temporarily in Lviv, the unofficial western capital of Ukraine.5 Churches and seminaries are among the organizations welcoming them. According to one pastor in Lviv:

If it were not for so many people suffering here, I would consider this the most exciting time. The church has become all I (and Jesus) always wanted it to be. I feel the most alive when random people from the train station are sleeping all over my apartment. And doing Sunday morning has never been easier! I woke up at seven today without any idea what I will be preaching, and I have a sermon in my head already! We will have to do church in our café today, because the meeting hall is full of people sleeping on the floor and on the stage—and not just today, [but] last Sunday as well.6

As the weeks go by with no end to the war in sight, however, this pastor admits that weariness is setting in. He simply moves forward, doing the task that is before him. His church has taken in several hundred refugees per week, but some only stay for a few days in transit to Poland. The pastor and his team also co-ordinate efforts with churches in Ternopil [85 miles southeast of Lviv] and Krakow, Poland, transporting humanitarian relief to cities under siege as well as evacuating people out of those areas to safety. The co-ordinating pastor from Krakow drove to Lviv on 2 April in a van filled with food and items requested by the church that were not available in Ukraine. The co-ordinating pastor in Ternopil reported that, in the month since the 24 February invasion, they evacuated more than 300 people out of Kyiv, transported 500 people to the Polish border, distributed eight tons of humanitarian aid, and housed more than 3,000 refugees in their church.7

While these stories and sentiments provide only a snapshot of similar Evangelical efforts and perspectives throughout Ukraine, several common themes emerge: solidarity with fellow human beings, compassion, and hospitality towards refugees. 

In Ukraine there is a new popular saying: “Everything will be Ukraine!” [Ukrainian: Vse bude Ukraina!] To Sergiy Tymchenko, director of Realis Christian Center in Kyiv, this saying means that the Ukrainian spirit of courage, mutual support, and sharing personal resources will spread beyond Ukrainian borders to the rest of the world. Tymchenko first experienced what he calls “this amazing atmosphere of boldness, solidarity, and love” during the pro-democracy Orange Revolution on Kyiv’s central Maidan Square in 2004. He says that it is this spirit (indeed, the Spirit) that now inspires many Ukrainians to give their lives for others as Russia’s military shells Ukrainian cities. 

Tymchenko observes that for many Ukrainians, a spirit of sacrificial love is becoming a new norm, even when up against the bloody aggression of a tyrant in Moscow. He reasons that this spirit is not limited to any ethnicity or social group, but is fitting for all humanity, because it gives dignity, confidence, joy, and fulfillment beyond anything that could be obtained by merely human means. He believes that God “dropped the spark of this Spirit onto my beloved Ukraine when He saw the great suffering experienced by my forefathers in my homeland.” For this reason, Tymchenko sees the influence of Ukraine uniting and inspiring people, so we are all now “becoming Ukraine.” In this sense, he hopes that even in Russia “everything will be Ukraine.”

This, Tymchenko thinks, “is precisely what Jesus meant when He told his disciples that they must love their enemies.”8 While he understands the struggle to maintain human dignity and love in the face of the unspeakable atrocities of war, he finds strength in solidarity with fellow Ukrainians and others who seek what he calls a “blessed society.” Tymchenko further identifies this special spirit as the Hebrew word mishpat (justice), promised by God to us. In the Old Testament, mishpat is usually concerned with the care and cause of widows, orphans, immigrants, and the poor, and protecting the oppressed. While the action here is justice, the motivation is mercy. Mercy (Hebrew: chesedh) is God’s unconditional grace and compassion.9 “Justice” is often joined with tzedek, or righteousness, which refers to a state of moral good in which God’s people are to treat those around them with decency and fairness, recognizing that all people are created in the image of God with inherent dignity and worth. 

Jesus describes such influence and service in His Sermon on the Mount. As Jesus’ disciples, we act as a preservative in the world—“salt”—but only when we live virtuous lives. Jesus, the light of the world, then illuminates a sin-darkened world through the witness of His disciples, meaning that we should not withdraw from the world, but shine brightly so that others can glorify the Father in heaven [Matt. 5:13-16]. On this text, German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer pointed out that a community of Jesus Christ seeking to hide itself ceases to follow Him.10 Yet, as Christ’s disciples, we do not seek visibility for ourselves, but so that our good works may glorify Him. As Bonhoeffer also says, “It is by seeing the cross and the community beneath it that men come to believe in God. But that is the light of the Resurrection.”11 

In Ukraine, Evangelical pastors and their churches are serving beneath such a cross. Seeking to bind the wounds of people who have experienced tremendous loss and witnessed extreme brutality, they find words inadequate. In his brief text of 3 April, “Theology after Bucha,” Rev. Dr. Roman Soloviy  asks, “How to mourn civilians who have been tortured to such a degree that it is impossible to identify them? I am not ready to talk about this today” [see current issue of the East-West Church Report, 1-2].12 Pastor Raychynets similarly prays for strength; that he will retain his humanity as more atrocities come to light in Bucha, his own town. He admits that he is scared, not of missiles flying over his head or explosions nearby, but “for what we still have to hear, learn, and how to live with it.”13 

This is perhaps not the time for words, but for listening, lament, embracing, and acts of service. Formerly based in Donetsk, Joshua Searle of Spurgeon’s College in the UK points out that in the incarnation and crucifixion, God “participates in the existential hell of human suffering in a mind-blowing, logic-defying demonstration of divine solidarity with humanity in pain.” He further considers this self-sacrificing love and compassion (agape) to be the ultimate revelation of God expressed in eternal solidarity with humanity—God suffers with us.14 We must dwell on this with people who are suffering—and as people who are suffering—before we can move on to resolution and victory. 

Faced with the evil of the Third Reich, Bonhoeffer posed the question: “How then does love conquer?” Learning to love our enemies takes us on the path of the cross, he observes, but on this path we fellowship with the Crucified. “The more we are driven along this road,” says Bonhoeffer

the more certain is the victory of love over the enemy’s hatred. For then it is not the disciple’s own love, but the love of Jesus Christ alone, who for the sake of his enemies went to the cross and prayed for them as he hung there. In the face of the cross the disciples realized that they too were his enemies, and that he had overcome them by his love.15

We may dwell on this for a long time, for there is no more profound truth—no alternative reality—that we can move onto which will help us maintain our humanity in the face of unspeakable atrocities. There is no other source of compassion we can expect to find. 

Rooted in biblical compassion, Christians therefore find hope and healing and can minister to others, as is taking place currently in western Ukraine and Poland. Through hospitality, they are able to meet some of the most fundamental human needs. As so many internally displaced people have arrived in the Lviv region near to Poland, congregations are offering both church venues and homes. As well as such fundamental needs as a place to sleep, safety, food, and water, church leaders and members often provide a warm embrace and a listening ear. While there is a lack of experience in this area, churches also met such needs during the Revolution of Dignity [pro-democracy demonstrations that toppled the Putin-backed regime of President Viktor Yanukovych in 2014]. Back then, weary and injured protesters were welcomed into churches’ sacred spaces, where they were able to sleep and receive medical treatment. 

With some Ukrainian churches now shifting towards longer-term housing for displaced people, I believe Kinbrace—a ministry to refugees started in Vancouver, Canada, in 1998—offers a simple framework that could be adapted to aid their endeavors. Although an overwhelming majority of those fleeing are Ukrainian, some cultural differences exist between their country’s regions, and Kinbrace’s motto—“refugees are the you and me of another place”— reinforces the biblical view of loving your neighbor as yourself. Co-founder Loren Balisky says her ministry’s values help to identify in practical ways “the biblical ethic of kinship that we find in Scripture.” In trust, they affirm dignity, and commit to the best in one another. In mutual transformation, they strive to listen well, to learn, and to grow. In celebration, they are intentionally grateful amidst joy and sorrow, and they seek to discover hope. In prayer, they see themselves as fellow sojourners held by grace, and so they journey into the mystery and love of God.16 

When offering hospitality, it is important to temper expectations of ourselves and others. Refugee advocate Dr. Christine Pohl offers guidance, reminding us that we cannot separate the goodness and beauty of hospitality An elderly lady in liberated Lypivka, west of Bucha, receives food after a month of Russian occupation. (Source: REALIS CHRISTIAN CENTER) Notes: 1 Jayson Casper, “Ministries Evacuate as Russians Reach Irpin, the Evangelical Hub of Ukraine,” Christianity Today, 7 March 2022, https://www. christianitytoday.com/news/2022/ march/irpin-ukraine-russia-warevangelical-christians-evacuate.html. 2 Mark Wingfield, “As a pastor serves bread to the elderly in Ukraine, he prays to retain his humanity,” Baptist News Global, 17 March 2022, https:// baptistnews.com/article/as-a-pastorserves-bread-to-the-elderly-in-ukrainehe-prays-to-retain-his-humanity. 3 “A month since the start of the war, almost a quarter of Ukraine’s population from the difficulty of providing it. Hospitality requires more than beds and blankets, soup and bread, as communities are pressed to enlarge their circle of care. Paradoxically, it involves crossing social boundaries as well as affirming distinctions. Hospitality should be offered with grace and enthusiasm, yet it often takes place in the context of limited resources.17 This is a poignant reality during war. May God strengthen, sustain, and cause the churches in Ukraine to flourish during this difficult time. May God protect and heal Ukraine.

Notes:

1. Jayson Casper, “Ministries Evacuate as Russians Reach Irpin, the Evangelical Hub of Ukraine,” Christianity Today, 7 March 2022, https://www.christianitytoday.com/news/2022/ march/irpin-ukraine-russia-warevangelical-christians-evacuate.html. 
2. Mark Wingfield, “As a pastor serves bread to the elderly in Ukraine, he prays to retain his humanity,” Baptist News Global, 17 March 2022, https:// baptistnews.com/article/as-a-pastorserves-bread-to-the-elderly-in-ukrainehe-prays-to-retain-his-humanity. 
3. “A month since the start of the war, almost a quarter of Ukraine’s population are [sic] displaced,” UNHCR, 25 March 2022, https://www.unhcr.org/en-us/news/briefing/2022/3/623da5894/ month-since-start-war-quarter-ukrainespopulation-displaced.html.
4.  “Operational Data Portal—Ukraine Refugee Situation, https://data2.unhcr.org/en/situations/ukraine. 
5. Eric Westervelt and Ryan Kellman, “Lviv takes in displaced Ukrainians, but space and resources are strained,” NPR, 16 March 2022, https://www.npr.org/sections/pictureshow/2022/03/16/1085675211/ukraine-russia-displaced-refugees-lviv. 
6. Text message to the author, 13 March 2022.
7.  WhatsApp message to the author, 24 March 2022. 
8. Facebook post by Sergiy Tymchenko, 11 March 2022.
9. Timothy Keller, Generous Justice: How God’s Grace Makes Us Just, New York, NY: Dutton, Penguin Group USA, 2010, 4. 
10. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, New York: Touchstone, 1995, Loc. 1658. 
11. Ibid. 
12. [In Ukrainian] Roman Soloviy, “Teolohiya Pislya Buchi,” Politkom, 3 April 2022, https://politcom.org.ua/teologija-pisljabuchi.
13.  Email to the author from Dr. Mark Elliott, 5 April 2022. 
14. Joshua T. Searle, Theology After Christendom: Forming Prophets for a PostChristian World, Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2018, 270.
15.  Bonhoeffer, op.cit., Loc. 2093.
16. Mark R. Glanville and Luke Glanville, Refuge Reimagined: Biblical Kinship in Global Politics, Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2021, 15. 
17. Christine D. Pohl, Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition, Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 1999, 127.

Myra Watkins and her husband Mike served in ministry in Lviv, Ukraine, 1993-2004 and in Kyiv, 2007-11. They continue to work with the churches they helped develop, now led by Ukrainians. Myra is currently studying for a doctorate at Asbury Theological Seminary in Kentucky. This article is abridged from her paper of 8 April 2022.