#BeingHuman. #BrutalHonesty. On Cain’s question: am I my brother’s keeper?
This was Cain’s question to God after he murdered his brother Abel, the first recorded attempt in human history to dodge moral responsibility, and the first attempt at both-sides-ism. Today, as Ukrainian cities burn, as they did again last night in yet another massive russian strike across several regions that brought more death and injury and destruction, the same question confronts a Global Church that claims to follow Christ. Are we the keepers of our Ukrainian brothers and sisters?
This war is a profound moral test rather than a political tension or a situation or a conflict between two Eastern European nations far away from someone else’s life, and rather than a geopolitical chess game between superpowers. It is a test particularly for Christians who confess and proclaim traditional Christian values, and here is the uncomfortable truth: how we respond reveals more about our faith than a dozen Sunday sermons about the pure Gospel ever could.
Yes, Cain and Abel shared the same fallen nature. Both were children of Adam and Eve, exiled from the garden, and both needed grace and mercy. But here is what modern Christian relativism, with its both-sides-ism, asks us to overlook: a shared sinful nature does not erase moral distinctions. Scripture makes it crystal clear that despite their common condition one brother was a victim and the other a murderer, one shed innocent blood and the other had his blood shed. This is not complicated systematic theology.
And yet, faced with the most transparent case of aggression and victimization on the European continent since the Second World War, some Christians retreat into safe theological abstractions that would have made Pontius Pilate proud. Both sides have sinned, they say, washing their hands of moral clarity. It is complicated, they murmur, as though the Ten Commandments, themselves a part of those values, had come with footnotes about geopolitical complexity. You shall not murder. You shall not steal. These commands do not pause for political considerations, and they stand as God’s unwavering law, as relevant in Kyiv today as in ancient Israel.
Consider the parable as well. A man travels from Jerusalem to Jericho and falls among thieves who strip him, beat him and leave him half dead. Now imagine the Samaritan approaching that scene, pausing to consider the complexity of the situation, wondering about the victim’s past sins and his faithfulness to traditional Jewish values, or whether the robbers had legitimate grievances, and reflecting that the victim and the robbers share the same fallen human nature. The absurdity is obvious, and the moral clarity is immediate: here is a victim who needs help, and here are perpetrators who have committed evil. The Good Samaritan held no seminar on the doctrine of sin before binding up the wounds, since he saw suffering, recognized evil, and acted.
Ukraine today lies on the Jericho road, beaten and bloodied and still crying out for help and for a just peace. The question is not whether Ukrainians are sinners, since of course we are, like everyone else, in russia and in the United States and in Europe. The question is whether we will be Good Samaritans or cross to the other side of the road, muttering theological justifications for our indifference.
Which brings us to the most disturbing aspect of all: the systematic weaponization of the Christian faith by aggressors who claim to be defending that faith against the coming of the Antichrist. Russian propaganda has perverted Christian symbols and language into tools of conquest, occupation, murder, rape, looting and cultural genocide. They speak of traditional Christian values while targeting maternity wards. They invoke the name of Christ while systematically torturing civilians and raping Ukrainian men in captivity. They claim to defend Christianity while destroying hundreds of churches and murdering pastors and priests. They use the language of Christian family and morality while forcibly separating millions of Ukrainian children from their parents.
This is blasphemy in the most literal sense rather than political hypocrisy, the taking of God’s holy name to justify the most unholy acts. And tragically some Christians in the West, and not only in russia, have been seduced by that rhetoric, apparently unable to distinguish authentic Christian values from their cynical counterfeit. Real values, the ones flowing from the character of God revealed in Jesus Christ, are fundamentally humanizing, and none of this is liberal theology: they affirm the dignity of every human being created in God’s image, they demand justice for the oppressed, and they call us to love our neighbors rather than conquer them for the sake of making something great again. When Christianity is used to justify mass murder and to excuse the inexcusable, it has stopped being Christianity and become its dark counterfeit.
All of this poses a sharp question to anyone claiming spiritual discernment. If the Holy Spirit truly dwells within believers, if we have access to divine wisdom, if the renewing of our minds truly transforms us, then how is it possible to look at Ukraine and fail to see which side represents evil and which its victims?
We understand how the world behaves, since those without faith navigate by self-interest, political convenience and tribal loyalty, and their moral confusion, while tragic, is at least comprehensible given their limited spiritual resources. But what about God’s people? What about those who claim to read the Bible with hearts illuminated by the Spirit? What about those who sing about walking in the light while stumbling in moral darkness? Perhaps we have allowed our imperial political identities to override our Christian convictions, or perhaps we have grown so accustomed to theological complexity that we have lost the ability to recognize a simple biblical truth.
Jesus said, “you will know them by their fruits” (Matthew 7:16, NKJV). The fruits of russian actions have been evident since 2014 and again since February 2022: mass graves, destroyed hospitals, targeted schools, millions of refugees, systematic torture, the forced deportation of children. By what possible reading of Scripture could these fruits be seen as anything other than evil, especially by those who still believe that russia protects Christian values?
Every time I travel through Ukraine, including the south and the east, and see the consequences of this protection, I think about Cain’s question again. Every time I hear a twisted theology attempting to justify the suffering of millions, I ask myself what kind of God I serve, what kind of faith I profess, and what kind of witness I am bearing to a watching world.
Understanding Ukraine as a moral question first creates a logical chain for everything that follows, since our political and practical and pastoral choices flow naturally from that foundation. If unprovoked aggression is wrong, we should support efforts to prevent it. If innocent suffering demands a response, we should respond. If truth matters to God, we should resist lies and propaganda regardless of how politically convenient they may be for a dominant nation.
This war is not going away, and today is the 1200th day of it. It will go on testing our moral clarity and our practical faithfulness for years, and the world is watching how the Community of Hope responds to the most transparent case of good against evil in our generation. Is it seeing people transformed by Christ’s love and standing unequivocally with the oppressed, or is it seeing moral confusion, political calculation and theological tap-dancing around clear biblical principles, which would reveal the poverty of our discipleship whatever our formal education and our global evangelism plans?
Cain asked whether he was his brother’s keeper, and God’s answer was moral clarity rather than theological complexity: yes, you are, and the blood of your brother cries out to Me from the ground. Today Ukrainian blood cries out from Bucha and Mariupol and countless other towns and villages where the innocent have been slaughtered day and night for more than three years. The question remains: are we the keepers of our brothers and sisters, and in this moment of moral clarity, where do we stand? With the victims, or with those who victimize them? With those who defend the innocent, or with those who run from the Jericho road in order to worship the Lord in the temple? The answer we give, in our actions as much as our words and in our practice as much as our theology, defines our witness to the world and our standing before God.
In a world that increasingly regards Christianity and its traditional values as irrelevant or even harmful, Ukraine represents an opportunity for the Global Church to demonstrate that authentic faith yields moral clarity and courageous action. Whether we seize that opportunity or let it slip away is our choice today, as it was Cain’s long ago. But unlike Cain, we know how the story is meant to end, since truth wins, justice prevails, and love conquers death itself. The only question is whether we align ourselves with that ultimate reality or go on stumbling in the darkness of moral confusion.
Time will tell. History will judge. And God already knows… Am I my brother’s keeper? Yes. I always have been. I always will be. The only question is what I am going to do about it.
Taras D., Ukraine
1200 days of the ongoing unprovoked full-scale russian war against Ukraine, and of the institutional silence of russian Christians

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