The Orthodox Church in Ukraine: A Century of Separation

By Nicholas E. Denysenko

 

A Review by Dwight A Moody

 

For 55 years I have been reading books about religion and theology, but I do not recall any book that has presented a greater challenge to my ability to comprehend a text. The Orthodox Church in Ukraine treats, without doubt, the most complex and unfamiliar material I have ever encountered.

 

First, it deals with the Orthodox Christian world, that part of Christianity I am least familiar with and that part of Christianity most ignored in my formal education and least encountered in my lived experience. Second, it describes history in a part of the world largely unknown to me (although in this matter, it has many competitors for my ignorance). Third, it uses names (Skoropadsky, Mstyslav, Onufry, and Volodymyr, for instance) and titles (Metropolitan, Eparch, and Exarch, for instance) that had no prior place in my vocabulary.

 

But current events in Ukraine have awakened me to this fascinating and frustrating narrative.

 

The book traces the history of Christian Orthodoxy in Ukraine from 1917, when (in the midst of a world war and the rise of Bolshevism in Russia) the vision of an independent and autonomous Ukrainian Orthodox Church first exerted itself, to 2017, when (in the aftermath of the fall of the Soviet Union and the rise of Ukrainian nationalism) continuing efforts to unite and free Ukrainian Orthodox Christians were just a few of the many dynamics that presaged the current war with Russia.

 

It is heavy reading from the first, knowing that this road less trod led into the chronological clearing wherein two armies are even now battling for the right to be free, for the soul of the world. The drama unfolding before our eyes on the nightly news made this weighty tome and the complex story it tells so compelling, so necessary, so dramatic.

 

The fact that it ends on the eve of the two most dramatic and consequential components of its narrative is both frustrating and fabulous: frustrating, because I have to go elsewhere to learn how the story ends (so to speak, knowing that it is not the end but  merely another chapter); and fabulous, because the way history has unfolded gives this book an unintended and overarching suspense, one that not even tonight’s international news can diminish.

 

It is as if I have read the background paper for the evening news.

 

Except there is still so much I don’t know, and I am not sure Dr. Denysenko realizes what people like me wish we knew about Orthodox Christianity in Ukraine. Like:

  • What does the practice of Ukrainian Orthodox Christianity look like? What are the daily and weekly patterns of religious observance (prayer, devotion, service, generosity, and such)?
  • How many people are involved in Christian Orthodoxy in Ukraine (in comparison to the total population) and who, sociologically speaking, are they?
  • What do ordinary Ukrainian Orthodox people believe and confess (other than the creeds recited in the liturgy) and what do they think about such things as democracy, world affairs, and pressing moral issues (like those in our world: climate change, gender identity, poverty, sexuality, and food)?
  • How are Ukrainian Orthodox ministers chosen, educated, and treated, and what is the typical life journey of such a person?

 

Then there is the whole issue of the Other. The book never mentions other Christian communities (except Roman Catholics) in Ukraine let alone other religions. How do Ukrainian Orthodox Christians relate to Protestants, Pentecostals, Evangelicals, Mormons, Muslims, and other kinds of believers? How do any of these groups fit into the Ukrainian Orthodox search for identity, fidelity, and self-determination?

 

No, the focus is on if, how, and when Ukrainian Orthodox Christians can have their own church under their own rule serving their own people. This is known as autocephaly (not to be confused with autonomy, and I am sure I don’t understand the difference!).

 

And it brings this history into dialogue with all that is being written and spoken in the Christian Orthodox community around the world, especially revolving around what is called “The Russian World” or “Russkii Mir” (which Denysenko introduces in the last chapter of the book). Briefly, Musskii Mir is the ideology of Russian political and religious leaders that see Russian civilization as distinct from and superior to any form of Latin (or Roman Catholic) ideology and ethos or Western (European and American) ideology and culture. In this regard, Russkii Mir distinguishes itself from other ideologies and pushes back against, first, the ubiquitous presence of western values and influences throughout the world, and second, against the long-standing pressure from Rome and the Vatican. Russkii Mir is a nationalistic ideology and stance, but that nationalism extends to regions other than Russia proper, to all those Euro-Asian areas that share a Slavic and Orthodox history. And that includes, primarily, Ukraine.

 

Which explains some of what the war is about.

 

But I feel urgently (and I hope Dr. Denysenko does, as well) the need for a second edition of this book, one that covers the granting of autocephaly to Ukraine in 2018 and the invasion of Ukraine by Russia in 2022. History is unfolding faster than the historians can write!!

 

 

 

(April 2022)