Newsletter - September 2023
Background
When Russia invaded Ukraine on February 24th, 2022, the world shuddered. 200,000 Russian soldiers massed at the borders were meant to be a warning only, many had hoped, a bluff surely, a show of force to slow down NATO’s eastward advance. Official Russian declarations, days before, denied any plans to move across internationally recognized borders --- but the worst fears of those who were worried about the ambitions of Vladimir Putin to re-create a Greater Russia were well-founded as the simmering conflict between an increasingly aggressive Russia and a fiercely independent former republic (since 1991) of the USSR became an all-out war. The annexation of Crimea (in 2014), the de facto control of Donetsk and Luhansk provinces in East Ukraine (since 2016), as well as armed incursions into the country of Georgia (2008) and a military outpost in Moldova (continuously), foreshadowed this vision of a reconstituted Holy Russian Empire endorsed by the patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church, an ally of the current czar.
The invasion was the biggest attack on a European country since World War II ended almost 80 years ago and has killed an estimated 70,000 Ukrainian soldiers (with 100,000 wounded) and 120,000 Russian soldiers (with 170,000 wounded) within the past 19 months. Of course, the fog of war renders these horrific figures an educated guess. It is impossible to calculate the number of Ukrainian non-combatants who have died in this war to date. Estimates range up to 50,000. Apparently no one knows where all the bodies are buried.
We do know that Russian forces have been responsible for mass civilian casualties, targeting marketplaces, schools, hospitals, theaters, residential neighborhoods, public infrastructure, and for torturing captured Ukrainian soldiers. 6 million Ukrainians have fled the country and
8 million have been displaced within the country, out of a total population of 45 million.
Putin has been indicted by the World Court for crimes against humanity in the kidnapping of
at least 20,000 Ukrainian children who have been taken to Russia. The Russian dictator also continues to block essential grain shipments from Ukraine, the breadbasket of Europe, across the Black Sea to Asia, Africa and other regions of our hungry world. The catastrophe of this vicious assault to expand Russian territory is staggering, and ongoing, with no end in sight.
The pretext for this war is to “denazify” Ukraine (whose president is Jewish) as Russia once fought against the evils of the Third Reich; to counter the corruption and immorality of Western Europe and the United States (as if the slaughter of innocent men, women and children and the destruction of their homeland is a noble crusade); to rescue the Russian minorities inside Ukraine who are in danger of genocide (which nobody outside the Kremlin alleges); and to liberate the people of Ukraine who are, after all, kin to Russians (to liberate or obliterate, whichever comes first).
But Ukraine, like David not backing down from Goliath, has put up a valiant defense against the initial onslaught. President Zelensky did not take the offer of flight and asylum but asked for ammunition to fight back against the unprovoked assault on his nation. The Russian blitzkrieg from the north through Belarus to capture the capital Kyiv stalled within a few weeks and was chased back across the border, much to the shock and admiration of an anxious global audience. The offensive in the south and in the east across the steppes was opposed, eventually stopped and reversed, with courage and resourcefulness, and at great cost.
The counteroffensive launched in June has been grinding as the Ukraine forces have been stymied by hundreds of thousands of land mines, superior numbers dug into trenches (some of them mercenaries, many of them ill-equipped and ill-trained conscripts), the lack of adequate air support, and the desire to limit Ukrainian casualties. Ukrainian forces have regained ground in the South and East generating momentum --- to date reclaiming half of the territory previously occupied by the invaders. Their troops continue to pound past the first stiff line of defense laid down by the Russians who still control about 15% of the country.
Europe and America have provided billions of dollars of equipment and munitions which is much appreciated by the Ukrainians fighting uphill, but more is needed to deter the imperial aspirations and recklessness of Putin’s Russia. Zelensky recently visited the United Nations to speak and to meet with world as well as US leaders, pleading his nation’s case for sustained support. The implications for bordering countries (Poland, Moldova and Romania, the Baltic States and Finland), for all of Europe, and for the free world, are ominous.
Watching all of this unfold, with no certain resolution to this existential crisis, one can appreciate the defiant opening line of their national anthem:
Ukraine has not yet perished …
Connection
Along with millions all over the world, I have been following the news of this terrible war since it began across an array of media. War is always terrible (and avoidable), but this armed conflict clearly has a perpetrator and a victim, an aggressor and a defender. The UN agreed by a vote of 143 to 5. China and India voted for the resolution; only Russia itself, Belarus, Syria, North Korea and Nicaragua voted against a formal condemnation of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.
My heart hurt for the people of Ukraine in their suffering, in their struggle to survive, as women and children and the elderly fled for their lives, as the superpower next door rained down death (missiles, bombs, artillery shells, rounds of fire) indiscriminately on every part of their country.
At the beginning of this year, I contacted my long-time friend, Adam Edgerly, who leads the World Relief and Development Department for the Evangelical Covenant Church to see how we were involved in Eastern Europe and if we were assisting with the refugee crisis created by this war. Was there any meaningful way we could help? Adam, in turn, introduced me to Leonid Regheta who is Ukrainian-born, who grew up in the Soviet Union, who is now living in Dallas where he pastors a church of mostly Ukrainian and Russian immigrants (his wife is Russian). Leo has been traveling extensively to the region since the war broke out as a representative of Hope International Ministries, a mission focused on Eastern Europe, but now also following Ukrainian refugees to other countries in Europe and America.
We hit it off immediately and he invited my wife and me to join him on a trip to Moldova in May to serve alongside those caring for Ukrainian refugees. A million Ukrainians have poured into Moldova, a neighboring country to the west with a population of 3 million, over the past year and half. Many eventually transited elsewhere but about 100,000 remain. Moldova’s hospitality has been nothing less than heroic. Our time there was wonderful, and painful,
and hopeful, as I documented in a previous report.
At the conclusion of that mission, we were invited to return. Three months later, in August, Nancy and I flew to Chisinau, Moldova, the capital city, where she would stay and partner with Natasha Ciausov of CRU in her ministry with school teachers while I went with Leo, Paul Minakov, (HIM’s president and a Russian native now living in Florida), and Max Friesen (a missionary from Germany) into Ukraine.
Into Ukraine in 2023! A nation under siege. But this was God’s call and I would trust Leo, Paul, Max and all those who lead ministries in Ukraine and guided us to make wise decisions.
The Journey
There are no flights into Ukraine so we had to drive across the border. We left Chisinau and headed east across rich farmlands and rolling hills. I fell into silence with mixed feelings as we drove --- like a young man off on an exciting adventure and, at the same time, as a cautious cross-cultural explorer anticipating exposure to the worst that humanity can experience,
and inflict. I’ve seen it before in Haiti, in Cambodia, in Bosnia, in Rwanda, in Israel/Palestine,
in Mississippi, in the Bronx and in Oakland, and on the Rez in Arizona/New Mexico, and other scenes where suffering is pervasive and deadly. I’ve also seen the light of Christ shining through the distressing darkness in such places and wondered if and where His Presence might materialize here.
I listened to Paul’s back story as we traveled, learning about his childhood (as Pavel) in Siberia and the persecution of the church there in the last century, and the bravery of his parents and others who endured the capricious cruelties of an atheist state. As his father had spent time in prison so did Paul when he was arrested in Estonia during the Soviet era for teaching the Bible to children and youth. The satellite country’s communist constitution called for “freedom of religion” but it was often forbidden in practice. And yet there was a ray of light as Paul discovered that the informant who testified against him later came to faith and became a pastor in Israel. And Paul met him on a trip there!
We crossed the border without much trouble and arrived in Chornomorsk, a city southeast of Odessa on the shore of the Black Sea. There we met Pastor Slava and his wife Oxana, our hosts for the next week. Immediately, though we speak different languages, Slava and I became fast friends. Already there was a rapport between us with serious discussion and lighthearted banter. When I mentioned to a gathered group that I was trying to teach Slava some English, but that he was a slow learner, he shot back “there are no bad students, only bad teachers.” And so it went.
On the first night, air raid sirens pierced the air. Even into areas where the Russians have not been able to send their forces, the missiles fly. I was assured that most of the time we would be safe, the missiles would be shot down, or miss their intended target and fall harmlessly. They do enforce a 1 am to 5 am curfew. Everyone must stay home. We almost missed that deadline one night. There is fear in the air, it’s unmistakable.
The church that Slava shepherds has become, like so many churches in Ukraine,
a community center mobilizing the members to serve the needs of neighbors and refugees from afar. People sleep in the church, are fed in the church, are given water and medicines by the church, are able to access all kinds of supplies and find new friends, are welcomed into a spiritual family, and are surprised by an infusion of hope.
Early one morning I came downstairs in our host home and discovered an older woman sleeping on the couch. She was a neighbor who lived alone and was scared to stay by herself when the sirens sounded so she occasionally knocked on the door at night and stayed with the pastor’s family.
I was surprised by the lengths that the church would go to rescue those in desperate situations. Maybe the most extreme example in Slava’s church was their willingness to hide twenty Russian sailors who had escaped by swimming away from a sinking ship that was sabotaged offshore. They were unarmed but in danger of being shot by local authorities. That’s how it goes on a war. The church protected them until an amnesty agreement was reached and they were returned home.
Loving neighbors? Of course. Loving strangers? Sure, we should. But loving your bitter enemies? Caring for Russians? This is impossible and really hard for so many Ukrainians to not hate all Russians, but this church and their pastor made the fateful decision to save these men.
This church and many others are saving Ukraine. We saw it happening wherever we went. And they are doing even more. I’m hearing about --- and actually met --- Ukrainians who have fled the country, who have taken up residence in Poland, Germany, Italy, Romania, Moldova, Turkey and elsewhere, temporarily or permanently, who are planting churches and starting outreach ministries. Who are spreading the Good News of God’s Love for all of us. Assaulted by fears, they are fearless witnesses.
I was asked to present a leadership seminar while I was there, with Leo translating. There is an urgent need, so Slava and others told me, for long-time and brand-new believers to step up to the responsibilities of leadership in this season of great threat and tremendous opportunity. There is a need, and a desire, to escalate spiritual growth. I was very engaged by these adults of all ages who were so eager to learn all they could, to become more capable and confident as they served. My favorite feedback afterwards was a 20-something telling me that “you speak to the heart of young people” (“for a man of your advanced age”, I think he meant).
One middle-aged man in the class was blind and missing an arm. He was there with his wife. Slava shared the man’s story with me. He was the accidental victim of the mafia who were once powerful in the country. A bomb went off in his face and he lost his eyes and a limb. The woman now his wife was his nurse. Now they are married and here they are taking in all they can apply as they serve together, undeterred by his massive disability.
After the seminar we met with five soldiers, four men and a woman in full combat gear, on leave from the front lines. There was a heaviness about them and, at the same time, a passionate patriotism. Leo and Slava asked if I would pray with them and for them as we held hands in a circle. The officer in charge corrected me when I had finished by adding that peace was not enough, that pushing the Russians back was not enough, that only a complete defeat of the intruders and an international treaty guaranteeing that they would never return would be sufficient. There is a fundamental suspicion that any truce or compromise or foothold will lead to a resumption of hostilities sometime in the future. And recent history bears out that concern.
Odessa is a vibrant city. It is called “The Pearl of the Black Sea” and a visit, even during wartime, certifies its reputation. But the city is scarred by the bombs that have exploded over it, in it and around it. When we drove around and walked about it was bustling but there is still an uneasiness, and as modern as it is, certain features are missing. You will notice on the beautiful beaches that there are miles of barbed wire and metal barriers to prevent anyone from entering the sea which is loaded with mines to prevent enemy landings. Swim at your own risk.
We had dinner in the city with four men who are part of a much larger team from a megachurch in Kiev who are taking part in humanitarian deliveries all over the country. They are dressed in military fatigues and call themselves chaplains. We had a feast and heard about their ambitious itinerary and the help they and other teams are providing. They had tales to tell of relief efforts and near misses. The evening was convivial and heartrending. One man with tears asked that we pray for his son, Vlad, who was being sent to the front.
Days later we drove from Odessa inland to Mykolaiev, a city that endured constant bombardment earlier in the war. We saw the evidence everywhere. Many buildings in ruin or severe disrepair, many abandoned Russian tanks on display, certain streets almost empty and others, nearby, full of activity. The city seemed literally shellshocked, but now in relative calm.
Once again, we visited churches that were on high alert busily serving surrounding areas, no one turned away. Not only are the churches actively caring for their communities, but people living in proximity are coming out in droves to volunteer --- with or without faith --- but drawn to the most hospitable people and places in their city. Stockpiles of food, personal hygiene items, mattresses and other supplies fill the buildings. Those serving are welcoming, interested and exhausted. You can’t fail to notice it. But they can’t stop. They won’t. Men, women, children, the elderly, able-bodied and disabled, locals and refugees are involved, served and serving.
We gathered with 20 pastors that afternoon into the evening for some conversation. We thought we were joining their meeting but they wanted to hear from us. But we needed to hear from them first. And we did, and it was raw. Not good old boys in a circle, or pastors trading success stories, or a debate on abstract theological concepts, but the reality of leading in a war zone with overwhelming demands on their time, their resources, their souls.
One pastor talked about living in the basement of their church, in a bunker, a bomb shelter with his family and others. They stayed inside for weeks at a time hoping they would not run out of food and water. One pastor when asked about his experience simply said, “I can’t speak about it.” All of them spoke about their uncertainty and wondered out loud how long this would last, and how hard it can be … and what should we do?
I was riveted by this litany of pain and near-despair. Some were older, well-seasoned. Some were younger, in their late 20s and early 30s. None of them sure of themselves even though they expressed a determined trust in God’s providence even now. There was anger borne of hurt, and sadness in view of too much loss, and anxiety about the well-being of their children and grandchildren. Once we got going nobody held back. Unbidden, I cautiously entered the conversation with thoughts that seemed relevant to the moment. Something about the paradox of “the power of his resurrection” in tension with our “participation in his sufferings” … and the mandate to empathize, to “mourn with those who mourn, and rejoice with those who rejoice.” I hope and pray something I said blessed somebody. I had several sweet encounters when the group finally broke up. I didn’t want to leave.
Two young pastors from Zaporizia caught my eye and my heart. They lead a church that is mostly young people, many of whom have overcome addictions, as have their leaders. They were at the forefront of this honest interaction, drawing us all into unfiltered dialogue. I am a huge fan of, and cheerleader for, the recovery process and it all relates to the challenges in this part of the world. We are lost without a wholly adequate Higher Power, the One True Living God, coming to our aid (Steps One and Two of the Twelve). The human condition (whether we are wounded by others or suffering from self-inflicted wounds) leaves us all desperate for His grace and mercy, for rescue and restoration, to believe that God is working out a redemptive purpose even in the bleakest of circumstances.
On the way to Kherson, much closer to actual combat, we detoured to a village off the main highway called New Gregory (that is in English, the Ukrainian name is unpronounceable to Anglo ears: Novohryhorivka … I won’t forget it even if my spellcheck doesn’t like it). This community with a previous population of 300 was devastated last year by a column of Russian tanks that plowed across the fields and destroyed virtually every dwelling in their path. We saw the aftermath and visited with a multigenerational family that was just beginning to scrape by after losing almost everything.
Their house was no more but their work shed was still standing and a vegetable garden was coming back to life, and would provide sufficient sustenance for the next winter, they hope. Their spirit was amazing. They were a delight to spend time with even as they shared their nightmare (they hid underground when the tanks advanced on their village and artillery fire ravaged the village … and then came out and surrendered to shouting infantrymen) and their epic struggle to survive and rebuild. We met the father working on the damaged roof of the shed, and interviewed his adult daughter and son who were busy with critical projects to revive the farm. On the way out we inspected the combined shower and laundry facility provide by Hope so much appreciated by the townspeople who remained. We also stopped by a local market, barely subsisting in a dark hovel, and glad for our purchase of refreshments and a wonderful round of conversation.
On to Kherson, a city that was occupied by Russian soldiers for nine months in 2022. Pastor Jacob is a genius. The First Baptist Church became a refuge for a mixed multitude then and continues to be in new ways. The windows are still sandbagged and security is still tight. During the occupation 300 people stayed in the church building. Numbers of children were hidden in secret rooms to prevent the Russians from kidnapping them. The pastor oversaw all of this and walked us around this impressive site to describe the measures they took to ensure safety and survival.
He showed us the rooms where people stayed, and some still stay, and the secret rooms cleverly disguised, and the stairwell under which his family of six slept every night for several months. He also explained how the necessities were smuggled into the city and the church under the ever-watchful eyes of the occupying force. He recounted how the Russian commander would visit and demand gestures of loyalty. “You are all Russians now!” he announced. “You will contribute to our victory!” He insisted that the church adopt certain resolutions but Jacob reminded him that they were Baptists and that any formal statement required a congregational vote … which he kept postponing with plausible excuses until the Russians were driven out. All the while as we followed the pastor he reminded us that we are only 3 miles from the front lines. We could hear periodic explosions in the distance.
After meeting with a number of others who keep this incredible operation running, and after they fed us, we went outside to leave, amazed at what they had endured and accomplished. The pastor followed us out and pointed to a bulky shape underneath an enormous blue tarp. “What is that?” one of us asked. “That’s a boat we bought,” he said. “As soon as the Russians are gone, we’re going to cross the river (the Dnipro River separating the two armies) and bring supplies to the villages over there. We know they have been suffering terribly.” This church will never stop serving.
Back in Odessa, we were invited to join a church that gives away all kinds of supplies to those in need every Saturday. Hundreds of people were seated outdoors, waiting for the program to start that precedes the distribution. Leo and I were asked to speak to the crowd that gathered. I went first and decided at the last minute to riff on John 3:16 and 17 --- a passage so well known (we often stop before verse 17) but with rich meaning in this setting. The proof of love for people who have lost so much is the gift God sends to whoever will receive it --- God in person showing up to embrace us (not condemn us), to sacrifice Himself for us, to favor us with new, abundant, eternal life. Starting today. The God who is love at the core of his character sent His Only Son to bridge the gap between Creator and His cherished but wrecked creation, and win us back with His reconciling love, freely given.
When I finished speaking, I walked toward the back of the property hoping that my words, as translated by my partner, had some encouraging effect. On the way a man who was seated reached up and grabbed my hand, made eye contact, and plaintively spoke a single word … “Mariupol”. And pointed to his wife sitting next to him. “Mariupol.” She looked away.
Mariupol, a major port on the northeast banks of the Black Sea, had been overrun by the Russians and, according to the mayor, as many as 20,000 people were massacred. Watching that story unfold on the news early in the war was the first time the reality of this man-made tragedy hit me. And now I meet a man and his wife who fled the city in the middle of the night, past the dead and dying, with three other family members, whose car stopped working a few miles outside the city, who finally made it to Odessa with nothing.
He stood up and continued vigorously narrating their ordeal, and others came closer to hear and to comfort him. His wife stood off to the side, her posture bent over, her eyes downcast. Two people who had experienced the same trauma, reacting differently, as humans do. We drew her in to the impromptu huddle as we listened and prayed and inquired about what they needed. Everything, as it turned out. And workers scrambled to collect it and bring it to them. The man was so grateful he bearhugged me and wouldn’t let go for quite a while, an unexpected blessing for both of us.
That night we had dinner with Pavlo Unguryan, a former member of Parliament (2008-2019),
a politician and diplomat, the organizer of the national Prayer Breakfast and currently the executive director of the country’s Evangelical Alliance. Pavlo is in his 40s and has a huge influence across Ukraine. We had a long discussion about how to navigate this world of polarities in our quest to live in a Third Way, the Way of Jesus, beyond the divisive politics, the extreme ideologies and the hatred that infects human relationships. We also talked about his international trips for the purpose of appealing to leaders of countries for the consideration of support. With his charisma and vast knowledge, his faith and vision and advocacy for families, his voice is compelling.
[Pavlo, on the right, has since joined us in Austin to meet with new friends of Ukraine]
Returning to Chornomorsk, we prepared for an early morning departure past the checkpoints and back across the border into Moldova. Returning is not as easy as leaving, we found out. But we made it. And, I have to say, as we drove across country, it is impressive to see hundreds of large semis on the road commuting to the cities loaded with vital products, and to see markets everywhere, indoors and outside, opened up and selling all manner of commercial goods and produce.
Against all the odds, against the brutality and the chaos created by an intimidating and unaccountable enemy (with nuclear weapons in their back pocket), and questions about the reliability of strategic partners, Ukraine has not yet perished, and may yet prevail. In the meantime, the Kingdom of God is active in obvious and in subtle but powerful ways to strengthen the spirit and miraculously provide for the real humanitarian needs inside Ukraine, and around the world because of refugees and their friends who carry the fire of faith.
After our journey, the follow-up plan that Slava, Leo, Paul, myself and others are working on involves hosting a retreat for pastors and their spouses early in the new year, depending on conditions, which will focus on the challenges of coping with and recovering from the trauma caused by this war. We recognize that the pastors and their families, as well as the congregations and communities they serve, could benefit from such an experience. They need rest, they need comfort and care, they need insight and clarity, they need resources and new opportunities, they need connections and networking, they need love and renewal of the heart.
Please pray for the people of Ukraine, for their leaders, for the churches that are serving beyond their means, for the healing they need, and ultimately for the recovery and reconciliation that seems impossible but is promised by God’s Word. And pray for the Russians, too. And for the people in other European countries that have absorbed refugees and the anxiety imposed by this brutal war.
Doug Stevens
Austin TX
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Join the volunteer’s team this summer
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