#BeingHuman. Brutal Honesty (part 2) about Spiritual Life. As I continue to reflect on the impact of the ongoing full-scale war on me, on us, -- allowing you to look inside through the broken windows of our souls, -- I want to share with you Part Two from my diary on Brutal Honesty. These are my three temptations and challenges of a grown and "more-or-less" mature Christian (as I thought of myself before the full-scale war) in spiritual life and how I cope with them, trying to remain human in the Image of God.
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What do I learn from questioning my faith in God's goodness or presence due to war's intense suffering and devastation? I seek comfort and support from fellow believers, with others who share my faith. I am searching for people with whom I get a sense of community as a place to find comfort, support, hope, and strength. I also turn to the Scriptures and prayer. Reading the Word and engaging in prayer as my "battlefield" helps me reinforce my faith and provide a sense of hope and comfort, at least temporarily. Reflecting on the promises of God's love and care for humanity helps a little bit, not much, to restore a sense of trust and hope in God's goodness and presence, even while suffering and devastation when I confess that I understand nothing why and what the Lord is doing in this chaos. I keep myself engaged in acts of service and compassion, especially with the internally displaced people in Ukraine and the refugees "from the other side…." Volunteering during the ongoing war helps me restore a sense of purpose and meaning in the face of adversity. I do not want to lose this sense because of my workload. With all respect to my job, helping others through philanthropy during the war provides me a sense of connection to something larger than oneself and helps me rekindle my hope and faith in God's goodness and presence during war and suffering.
2. I AM TEMPTED TO BECOME DISILLUSIONED WITH THE "CHURCH" AND RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS THAT SEEM POWERLESS OR INEFFECTIVE IN THE FACE OF VIOLENCE AND DESTRUCTION.
I feel that the religious institutions and leaders (especially Russian Orthodox and Evangelical) have failed to address the war's root causes and take action to bring about compassion and identification with the Christians in Ukraine. I am sad that for so many Christians in Russia, the war is a holy crusade or a righteous battle against evil forces, which they identify as Western Christendom, and interpret the protection of traditional Christian values as a call to arms and believe that violence and aggression are necessary to defend their faith and secure victory of "the Russian Gospel." I feel very frustrated that they are embracing the extremist ideology of the Russian World that offers simplistic solutions and scapegoats for their spiritual and national problems. I feel sad that they force us for peace and reconciliation and demand our silence. I am so frustrated and sad that the Russian Church has lost its prophetic voice and has become too timid or complacent in the face of injustice and oppression. This leads me, I have to confess, to a sense of cynicism and apathy towards the Church and religious institutions in Russia and a belief that they are no longer relevant or effective in addressing the needs of the people in the Mission of God…
What do I learn from frustration with the Church, religious institutions, and structures in Russia that seem powerless and ineffective in the face of violence and destruction in Ukraine? I learned to look beyond the institutionalized "Church," whatever it means. While religious institutions and structures can be crucial in providing spiritual guidance and community, they are not the only source of faith and hope. It's critical to remember that Christianity is ultimately about a personal relationship with the One Who created me in His image and calls me to follow His character... and that this relationship can be nurtured through individual practices such as prayer, meditation, and Scripture reading. Focusing on my relationship with Jesus gives me hope and purpose, even when religious institutions and structures seem ineffective. I also try to be engaged in activism and social justice work with the representatives of other Traditions of Faith. Christianity has a substantial social justice and activism tradition, and engaging in these activities helps me restore a sense of purpose and hope. Working towards peace and reconciliation in the "Dialogue in Action" initiative, supporting refugees and other vulnerable populations, and advocating for policies that promote human dignity help me put my faith into action and provide me a sense of hope and meaning in the face of violence and destruction. It helps me restore a sense of faith in the power of the Church as the Community of Hope and religious institutions as the faith communities to effect positive change in this broken world on the Silent Planet.
3. I AM TEMPTED TO ABANDON SPIRITUAL PRACTICES OR COMMUNITY IN THE FACE OF OVERWHELMING CIRCUMSTANCES.
Working with the internally displaced people in Ukraine and the refugees from "the other side," I feel overwhelmed by the trauma and chaos of the war and find it difficult to focus on spiritual practices such as prayer or meditation. I feel that my faith is no longer relevant or helpful in extreme circumstances, and I lose my motivation to engage in spiritual practices. This leads me to a sense of spiritual emptiness and disconnection from my faith community and, ultimately, from the Community of Hope. I also experience a crisis of faith due to the intense emotional and not rarely physical devastation because of what I witnessed during the war through the other eyes. No, I do not compare my experience as a civilian to the experience of those on the front line or those who were tortured, arrested, imprisoned, etc. But in our meetings and conversations, they often question God's existence or the relevance of their beliefs in the face of such extreme human suffering. They feel that their faith has failed them or that God abandoned them, and thus withdraw from spiritual practices or their faith community. With the constant secondary trauma, I feel powerless working with such people and also very often keep away from spiritual practices, sinking in the doubts, questions, and "Why, the Lord?"
What do I learn from the emptiness when I abandon spiritual practices or community in the face of overwhelming circumstances? I try to prioritize prayer and meditation. My prayer and meditation are my battlefields with the Lord, like the River for Jacob over the Night. I try to set aside a specific time, although not each day, but at least a couple of times a week for prayer, meditation, and my "battles." I learn to stay connected with my faith community, friends, colleagues, and family. Even if it's impossible to physically attend church or spiritual gatherings, staying connected with my family and faith community provides me a sense of support and belonging. I attempt to reach them via phone, text, or social media, not about work… but about my... our "battles..." Finally, I try to focus as much as possible on the bigger picture. Amid overwhelming circumstances, losing sight of the bigger picture -- the Mission of God -- is so easy. However, focusing on the ultimate goal of serving God and living a life of purpose and meaning helps me provide hope and motivation. It is why I remind myself daily: our Mission has not changed… has not.. not yet..
SO AS A CIVILIAN, WHERE DO I RUN FROM THE TEMPTATIONS DURING THE ONGOING WAR? -- "I WILL GO AHEAD OF YOU INTO GALILEE."
Christ appoints a place for meeting with His disciples after His resurrection: Galilee. He knows and is sure that He will find them there, physically exhausted by fruitless fishing all night long. Even before His death on the cross and before His resurrection, Jesus addresses the eleven disciples and says to them: "You will all fall away, for it is written: 'I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.' But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee." (Mark 14: 27-28).
After Jesus' resurrection, the disciples still felt lost: too many radical changes and upheavals in a short period of time. Although the apostles have already had two meetings with the Risen One, Peter turns to the six disciples of Christ next to him and says to them: "I am going to fish." They tell him, "We also go with you" (John 21: 1-3).
Every so often, I find myself at the meeting place designated by Christ not because I have believed Him, remembered His words, followed Him, or was looking for Christ at a particular meeting place. Every so often, I find myself at the meeting place designated by Jesus because I run not to Him but away from Him, not understanding what is happening in me, to me, and around me. I run away, even though I have already had meetings with the Risen One.
My sincere run away from Him is sometimes the path to Christ, the path to the place of meeting with Him, where He will take care of me, His crippled disciple: "When they had gone ashore, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread." (John 21:9). He will take care of me and then will ask: "Taras, do you love Me?"
The path with Jesus is the daily meeting and journey of two friends who have a relationship of trust and love on their "battlefields." Even when I am tired and burdened, when I fail or run away from uncertainty, brokenness, pain... I run away… toward Him... He made an appointment for me on that path to take care of me and assure me: "I continue to love you. Do you love Me?" I believe, my Lord, that even when I run away from You these days, I run toward You, for "where will I go from Your Spirit, and where will I flee from Your presence?" (Psalm 139:7).
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Taras N. Dyatlik, Ukraine
1 June 2023
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