A letter to the global Dominican Family from a brother in Ukraine
Dear sisters, dear brothers,
Ukraine is being talked about again, and the subject of war and peace talks has returned to the headlines of the biggest news agencies. This is mainly thanks to the newly inaugurated presidency of Donald Trump who through actions and pronouncements prevents the world from forgetting about Ukraine or Russia. It seems that ending the full-scale invasion of Ukraine that has lasted for over three years is no simple task; it doesn’t seem that it can be done quickly either. I am not surprised that many of my Ukrainian friends doubt whether this conflict could be over this year. The former ambassador Bartosz Cichocki, who until recently presided over the Polish diplomatic representation in Kyiv and never abandoned his post even in the most intense moments of aggression, articulated the problem clearly:
“The Russians did not come to Ukraine to take more land. They came to take Ukraine’s sovereignty. They want to deprive Ukrainians of their freedom to decide about themselves both in the realm of internal policy and of international relationships.”
On Tuesday evening, the media informed us about the phone conversation between the leaders of the USA and Russia. The conversation supposedly lasted an hour and a half and ended with President Putin’s promise to cease attacks on energy infrastructure. As I was reading this news, I could hear sirens and, a moment later, the sounds of Ukrainian air defense attempting to shoot down drones flying over Kyiv. The explosions could be heard late into the night. Is it possible that the orders from the Kremlin haven’t yet reached the Russian military bases from which Shaheds (Iranian-made drones used in huge numbers to attack Ukraine) are launched every day? Or maybe they are simply targeting other objectives now—perhaps residential buildings, factories, or schools? The same morning, the debris from a Russian drone fell onto one of the schools in Kyiv—luckily there were no casualties because the children had escaped to the shelter. During the night a Russian drone “landed” on the roof of the hospital in Sumy, a city in northeast Ukraine. A hundred and forty-seven patients had to be immediately evacuated. The difficult history between these two neighboring nations and the terror inflicted by Russia in the not-too-distant past—especially during Stalinism and communism taught the Ukrainians not to attach too much meaning to promises and assurances coming out of Moscow.
Truth: the inseparable companion of justice & mercy
“These days I’ve been thinking a lot about the truth—about the way that war crimes are documented. The present politics pretend that there are no facts, that there is no truth. And if there is no truth, that means there will be no tribunals, and there will be no just ending to this history. No one will judge all the crimes committed by Russians. These are truly difficult times,” said Oleksandr Mykhed, a young Ukrainian writer, in an interview. His chronicle of the invasion entitled “The Language of War” has recently been published, including in English. I’m bringing up Oleksandr’s words, whom I recently met in Kyiv, because I haven’t been able to get his bitter reflection out of my mind: “If there is no truth, there will be no justice.” It is justice that is being called for in every part of Ukraine.
In his letter to the Dominican family in Ukraine sent for the third anniversary of the full-scale aggression, our brother Timothy Radcliffe OP reminded us of the words from the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World of the Second Vatican Council: “Peace is not merely the absence of war; nor can it be reduced solely to the maintenance of a balance of power between enemies; nor is it brought about by dictatorship. Instead, it is rightly and appropriately called an enterprise of justice” (Gaudium et Spes, 78). Let us pause for a moment and join Cardinal Radcliffe in reflection through the questions contained in his letter: “Will these negotiations lead to ‘an enterprise of justice?’ Or are they just about the self-interests of the great powers?”
As I was preparing a short homily on Monday evening on the words of Jesus, “and you are all brothers” (Mt. 23:8), I reached for the Encyclical “On Fraternity and Social Friendship”. I was fully engrossed in the last chapters of this document that was written five years ago. Pope Francis wrote about building peace, truth, and overcoming divisions, and about the importance and meaning of forgiveness and reconciliation. To the inspirations I received from Mykhed and Radcliffe, I am adding the words of Francis: “Truth, in fact, is an inseparable companion of justice and mercy. All three together are essential to building peace; each, moreover, prevents the other from being altered” (Fratelli Tutti, 227).
Peace is not merely the absence of war; nor can it be reduced solely to the maintenance of a balance of power between enemies; nor is it brought about by dictatorship. Instead, it is rightly and appropriately called an enterprise of justice (Gaudium et Spes, 78).
At the beginning of March, the area of the kitchen for the poor run by the Saint Martin de Porres House was shelled by Russian artillery. One of the shells fell so close to our building that almost all the windows were broken. Luckily, the attack took place at night, so none of our employees or volunteers were injured.
Olena and the prophetess Anna
At the same time, Father Misha from Fastiv was preaching a Lenten retreat at the Kherson parish as requested by Fr. Maksym, the local pastor. It is the only Roman Catholic parish in the city and its neighboring area and is located less than a kilometer from the Dnieper River. The river is today a border of the territories controlled by the Russians. Despite frequent artillery attacks and a couple months of Russian occupation in 2022, the church has never been closed, and the priests never left their parishioners. Currently, Sunday Masses are attended by about 40 people. Half of them are newcomers who appeared in the church after the war started. Some older women, who come to the Eucharist from neighboring villages that are under constant shelling by the enemy, have to walk on foot for several kilometers.
Despite frequent artillery attacks and a couple months of Russian occupation in 2022, the church has never been closed, and the priests never left their parishioners.
One of the participants of the retreat is Olena. She came to Kherson from Crimea where her children still live. From the spring of 2022 until November when the occupation of the city ended, she lived in the bushes growing in front of the church, just next to the statue of Our Lady. She was supported by the parish and by the neighbors, and — as she herself said to Father Misha — she guarded the church from the occupants. When the Russian soldiers arrived, she led them before the statue of Our Lady and explained to them that it was a holy place and that people pray there and that nobody can offend God or the Blessed Virgin Mary without punishment. “I was protecting Our Lady, and she was protecting me,” she said. After the liberation of Kherson, Olena received from the authorities an abandoned apartment. She has been coming to the church regularly ever since. Father Misha said: “She reminds me very much of the prophetess Anna described in the Gospel of Saint Luke, who dedicated herself to service in the temple, or of a yurodivy (fool for Christ) — a popular character in Orthodox spirituality.”
A couple days ago I visited Moshchun, a village about half an hour away from our priory in Kyiv. It witnessed a key battle in the defense of the capital of Ukraine in March of 2022. During the battle, a hundred Ukrainian soldiers fought against much bigger units of the occupants and successfully protected this strategically important point. Despite the three years that have passed since those tragic events, the village still shows visible signs of destruction; burnt and ruined houses and abandoned properties create a stark contrast along the newly repaired road. The memory of the heroic defenders Moshchun — called “angels of victory” here — makes us see the high price that the Ukrainian nation still pays in the fight for their freedom. There were young people among those soldiers — Artur for instance, who wasn’t even 19 when he died, or Nikita who was just a little older. My attention was particularly drawn to the picture of Nina, a nurse who died on March 14, exactly three years ago. I was very moved by this place, the stories of the people who died there, and their faces saved on the pictures. They fought their deadly struggle defending our city, including me and my brothers in the priory in Kyiv. Our gratitude and respect will not fade.
"Beauty protects us"
A new project just began at the House of Saint Martin in Fastiv, under the supervision of Dominican missionary Sister Daniela. She set up a painting studio named “Icon — Rehab” in the refugee building, and it is used for icon writing classes. The first class just ended and was attended by over a dozen parishioners from Fastiv. They belong to different generations and carry a range of life stories. Under the direction of Sister Daniela, they are painting small icons of Our Lady. “Another step behind us. Another new stage. We are entering into the details. Concentration, deep reflection on the faces of the participants, and in their souls something new — new peace from God, an unearthly harmony which God gives from within,” said Sr. Daniela. In a few days a group from Kherson will start their program at the studio. “They need silence very much, a special kind of freedom and protection that comes from creative work,” added Father Misha.
“Beauty protects us”, stated Fr. Łukasz Miśko OP, when describing his impressions of the liturgical music workshop that just ended. This is another time when, through the inspiration of Fr. Wojciech from Khmelnitsky, a couple dozen young people from all over Ukraine were studying, singing, and praying together. Rafał Maciejewski from Łódź who taught at the workshop added that the call to God of the Lamentations of Jeremiah, “Renew our days as of old” — which we use during the liturgy of Holy Week — sounds particularly moving in the country torn by war.
Spring has already begun in Ukraine, although from time to time it is interrupted by rain and snow falling from the skies. When the days become longer and the sun appears more often, it is easier to keep up hope with the profound faith that “hope does not disappoint” (Rom 5:5).
With great gratitude for your solidarity with Ukraine and for all help we receive, and with the request for prayer,
Jarosław Krawiec. OP
Kyiv, March 19, 2025
Solemnity of Saint Joseph
