BEING HUMAN

Dear Friends, we greet you with belated Christmas wishes and a Happy New Year! We also want to share some of our reflections after ten months (approximately 300 days) of Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine. Our ministry network, “People of the Bridge,” has become a vital support bridge during these challenging times in Ukraine. With the involvement of over 200 volunteers, our seminary network has:

• distributed food and basic necessities to about 300,000 people;
• provided food and care for 40,000 people in transit;
• evacuated more than 10,500 individuals;
• provided long-term accommodation to over 4,000 internally displaced persons;
• sent more than 2,600 tons of food and basic necessities to people in need, churches, and refugees.

As we stand at the threshold of a new year, having endured over ten months of Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine, we wish to share with you the heartfelt reflections of our Coordination Group. What does it mean to be faithful to God’s Mission in the darkest hours? How does one find light when missiles shatter the sky and power grids fail? Our team has discovered that true Mission emerges through incarnation – being physically present with those who suffer – and through compassion that bears the same tears and scars as our society. We have become “people-bridges,” standing vulnerable yet resilient between worlds, between suffering and hope. Through your prayers and support, you have helped us shine when electricity failed, endure when certainty vanished, and move forward when the path seemed impossible. These reflections reveal not just the cost of our journey, but the profound truth we’ve discovered: that even in war’s abyss, God remains Immanuel – with us. We sincerely thank you for your prayers and support of our ministry in Ukraine. Our Mission remains unchanged…

* * *

As I pause in silence and prayer before Christmas, I give thanks to God for each of you who walked with us on this dark journey through 2022 in Ukraine. You helped us shine because your finances served as electricity. You helped us endure because you were in constant conversation with us. You helped us move forward because you were able to plan with us in the midst of the full-scale war. You helped us see God because you were praying instead of us. You helped us feel confident because you cared for our loved ones who became refugees. You helped us keep warm because you cared for energy supplies for winter. All that we did and do in many ways is possible because of you standing with us on the other side of the border. Thank you for standing with us. We know that it also costs you.

Helga Dyatlik
Overseas Council/United World Mission

* * *

War is exhausting. But this exhaustion doesn’t happen overnight. At first, you are stunned by the sudden awareness of the catastrophe. It seems that the old life is shattered to pieces, broken into countless fragments that no one can ever put back together again. As a reminder: on February 24, 2022, Russian army troops simultaneously attacked our country from the north, east, and south, delivering massive missile strikes throughout the country. Already on the third day of the invasion, heavy fighting was raging in the suburbs of Kyiv. The country’s roads were flooded with millions of people trying to find refuge in the safer western regions of Ukraine or cross the border into neighbouring European countries. Cellular reception and the Internet worked with significant interruptions. Each of us had to reckon with an impossible choice. What to do? To stay or to leave? To save children or to take care of parents? Take care of yourself and your family, or join in helping the multitudes of refugees? These decisions had to be made in complete darkness, without knowing which ones would prove right and which would turn out wrong. The horror of the outbreak of war, the need to make decisions, and complete uncertainty about the future led to stress, sleep disturbances, loss of appetite, constant fatigue, and anxiety. I could not read, listen to music, or watch movies for many weeks and months. One after another, surges of stress swept in with news about the horrific atrocities of the Russians in the occupied territories, air raids, and testimonies of friends from the occupied and frontline territories. Perhaps, to reassure Ukrainians, some governmental advisors and experts in the first weeks of the war were fostering expectations in the society that the war was about to end with a swift victory and liberation of Ukrainian territories. It is difficult to assess the effectiveness of their almost ritualistic chanting about the imminent end of the war. Still, by the end of spring, it became apparent that this war would last for a long time and that a new reality was being formed in which we would have to live for months and, most likely, years. This is the reality of a country at war, losing tens of thousands of lives, suffering massive rocket attacks (like today), and power outages (as I write this, my neighbourhood has been without power for hours). This is the reality of a country where millions of people are in dire need of help. From the first days of the war, many churches, seminaries, and Christian volunteers have concentrated all their efforts on serving internally displaced persons, supplying food and other necessities to the towns and villages of the frontline territories, and evacuating people from there to the western parts of the country. This ministry is physically and emotionally exhausting. The daily experience of people’s suffering and frustration from the inability to help everyone. The need to find even a fragile, even a temporary balance between serving others and caring for one’s own psycho-emotional well-being. Uncertainty about the future – your own, your family, your country. Exhaustion. And nevertheless, our mission continues.

Roman Soloviy
Eastern European Institute of Theology
Langham Literature

* * *

This year’s Christmas for me is closely associated with the metaphor of light. Perhaps, this is my reaction to the uncertain power supply caused by the barbaric missile hits by Russia on Ukrainian power system. Something which I took for granted in the past – electricity – is now an asset. A much-needed asset. It is interesting that some Renaissance artists depicted the Nativity scene with Jesus as the source of light at the centre of composition. The light that comes from him illuminates the faces of all who surrounded him at that moment. This is grounded in the Scriptures narrating the coming of Messiah. Thus, Zachary in his prayer points that “the dawn from on high will break upon us, to shine upon those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:78b-79). The light that comes from Jesus not only shines into human darkness it also illuminates our hearts and faces making us the bearers of light in the deep and darkest abyss of human suffering and tragedies. May the Christmas candles remind you of “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world” (John 1:9) and may this Light be our source of encouragement as we continue walking our way towards his eternal Kingdom. Maranatha!

Oleksandr Geychenko
Odesa Theological Seminary

* * *

January – Talks about the war. Developing the evacuation plan. Some of the staff do not believe invasion is possible and think that this planning is a waste of time. February – developing 5-year strategic plan for TCI. Keep working on the evacuation plan. February 24, 5 a.m. – first shelling of the city. The airport, I have been using so often to fly to other countries, is on fire. Quick breakfast. We bought a bus and evacuated teenagers and mothers with little children on it. On the first day, we evacuated 70 people. February 26 – we spend the night in a village near Chernivtsi. Lots of locals brought us food. We had an overnight in the church sanctuary. Our country is dealing with stress and anger, but we don’t feel fear. Team. Responsibility. Daily calls via zoom to pray with staff and collect information. March. Ivano-Frankivsk. The local church gives us shelter and provides food. March 10. TCI property is occupied. Russian soldiers say that evangelical believers deserve to be summarily executed, as they support the values of the West world. Development of horizontal connections. Many new leaders. New opportunities to serve the community. Starting Filter, a volunteer center where hundreds of refugees gather every month to socialize. Starting a sewing workshop to provide the military with underwear and T-shirts. The church quickly finds its role in the community. Evacuation as a new part of TCI’s ministry. Training on survival and risk assessment. Bucha Massacre. Inhumanity. The generosity of hundreds of thousands of people around the world. Humanitarian projects. Flour, sugar, potatoes, seeds, cans, formula, etc. April – May. Realizing cultural differences between the south and the west of Ukraine, yet we are all one people. Russian Christians call for reconciliation without rebuking the war. Reconciliation is impossible without repentance. Migration – many families separated. Wives are in one country; husbands are in another. June-July. Many young people get married, understanding the fragility of life. Many families, where close relationships have been lost, end up with divorce. The night of August 28-29. The TCI’s property was partially destroyed as a result of the shelling. The Russian occupants through TCI’s library to the trash. All valuables were stolen. Vandalism. September. Starting training in a new location. Big student enrollment. October – the destruction of the country’s infrastructure. Russia aims to freeze the country by cutting off the power supply. Unity, certainty, and mutual assistance. November 11 – the liberation of Kherson. Joy. First trip to my hometown after many months of occupation. Ruined city. Devastated Property of TCI. December. The first Christmas during the war. Christmas is the coming of God into a mean world to mean people. We pray that the Lord will show us how and where to serve next year.

Valentyn Synyi
Tavriski Christian Institute, Kherson / Ivano-Frankivsk

* * *

Dear friends, on behalf of the UETS community, I express our deepest appreciation for your support during the ten months of the war. We have learned a lot about God, His mission, and the church of suffering. First, we learned that mission is only possible with the incarnation, with honest and involved presence with people. Second, a true mission is only possible with compassion. Compassion was a fancy word before the war. Now compassion for us is to suffer with people, to suffer together. It is about having the same tears and scars our society has. We know how it hurts when Russian missiles hit your campus, your apartment is destroyed or looted, or when you must lead a funeral for your graduates. This makes us and our mission authentic. Third, we are still learning to be a community of hope amid war and suffering with our fellow citizens. How to anchor our hope, not in what we see and feel, but in the truth that God is Immanuel, He is with us. Christmas strengthens us as we see that God incarnated in Jesus. He did not cancel suffering; He came to suffer with us. He did not cancel death; He defied it. Russian rockets fly over our heads during this Christmas season. We have no fear because we know He is with us, and many other His disciples around the world stand with us. Dear friends, by your prayers and support, you help us to be an instrument of love and hope for thousands of people. May God bless you for your global vision and generosity.

Ivan Rusyn and UETS team
Ukrainian Evangelical Theological Seminary

* * *

Dear friends, I wish you Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Thank you for your prayers. During the full-scale war, we value a prayer not as our necessity but as a gift to each other—the same gift as our openness to vulnerability. Working in a complex region torn by politics and warfare and trying (not being, but trying hard) to be faithful to the Mission of God, you become a bridge person. But, unfortunately, people-bridges are usually very vulnerable. They are the trees that die while standing. Life on a Bridge is intensive and systematic personal and teamwork consisting of representatives of different races, denominations, ethnic groups, languages, cultures, continents, and social strata. You no longer belong to yourself due to the nature of your work and ministry. You are always a little your own and a little stranger to everyone; you are looked at as someone else – sometimes as a neighbor and sometimes as a visitor. Do you know why the “Trees die while standing”? At one time, I was deeply impressed by Alejandro Casona’s play, which I watched back in Donetsk (now occupied by the russian military forces), with just that name. “Strong people, even in their grief, prefer to remain strong, not to bend under the weight of the piled up misfortunes, and most importantly, not to shift suffering onto the shoulders of their loved ones.” And it is not about being burned out. It is about something other than being tired or needing a vacation… People-bridges are thought to be strong and stable: by your leadership, coworkers, family, and friends. So it probably is or should be… at least for the sake of a donor intent for those working in the so-called “Majority World”… But this resilience has its price. The cost of living on the bridge year by year is very expensive, not in terms of money. As a result, most people around you see only random photos on social networks, read brief reports, and hear some exciting stories. Some people, on the other hand, may be jealous. Perhaps many complain that “people-bridges” rarely publicly write about their work. But only a few (not even a hundred or thousands) live, work, and serve “on the bridge,” accessible for almost everyone. Yet, at the same time, “people-bridges” are vulnerable… because of their openness, because … they have been influenced (and quite often, with pressure) by the conflicting cultural, religious, political, and church contexts surrounding, shaping, breaking them. But they continue to build not walls… no, not the walls at all. These are the bridges of trust, care, understanding, and love relationships despite the heavy traffic of the many things passing through their souls, minds, and hearts. Bridges are often easily destroyed or exploded by those “finally defined” with their fundamental faith or beliefs, cultural or political views, and positions. However, after a while, when another ‘man-bridge’ burns down or breaks, or resigns because of the on-bridge pressure and goes to work as a guard at a market place… after a while, another “man-bridge” appears somewhere else … imperceptibly… and begins to gradually restore what was destroyed, burned, blown up by those who personally did not need a bridge and broke it. Being vulnerable is a part of the high price of being a bridge. But, for objective reasons, a “man-bridge” is most often needed by the well majority just … only to get “on the other side” of the financial, social, political, religious, or any other challenge or issue. And they say that bamboo cannot be bent, but people can easily break it if they want to. However, Christ “will not break a broken reed,” a fractured man-bridge… Peace be with you, the people of the Bridge, and wishing you all the best during Christmas Eve…

Taras Dyatlik
Overseas Council/United World Mission
Vital Sustainaibility Initiative for Eastern Europe, Scholar Leaders

Peace be with you,
Taras Dyatlik, Roman Soloviy, Ivan Rusyn, Olga Dyatlik, Oleksandr Geychenko, Valentin Siniy – Ukraine