Discerning God in the darkness 

I found God at work among the Baptist churches in Ukraine as they live up to their high calling and become a light in the darkness, writes Alan Bain. 

Alan (pictured) is a retired Anglican vicar who has been working with church teams in Ukraine since 2007.

The following is a brief report on the effect of the ongoing war and the response of the Baptist church after two weeks travelling in the area during January 2023.

I speak to my friends through the haze of flickering candlelight in a darkened house. It's difficult to see their faces.

There is no electricity, water or heating tonight with only a predicted two hours power supply later followed by another five hours of darkness. Wailing sirens announce another Russian strike.

My host asks, 'Are you happy staying here or do you want to go somewhere else.'

I reply, 'Where else is there?'

'Well, nowhere,' he answers with a wry grin, his feeling of hopelessness and uncertainty pervading the darkness.
 

Later we walk with torches through the darkened buildings picking our way along the uneven and cobbled streets to visit the churches’ refugee work. Mukachevo in Ukraine is a pretty, historically Hungarian city, with a bustling centre full of cosy cafes and a striking mediaeval castle on the hilltop; but now it's barely recognisable. The darkened, mainly closed shop fronts are littered with noisy, fume belching generators, providing light for just a few fortunate stores. 

We turn a corner and approach a large three storey house which is one church’s response to the refugee influx.  Twenty-six-year-old Alina (pictured) explains, 'We prayed about how we could help and amazingly were loaned this large house. It now provides shelter to as many refugees as we have church members.'

Volunteers dish up tasty meals, run bi-weekly Bible studies for shattered refugees and a team boldly drive supplies to the war zones to reach vulnerable families, often returning with them. 

Alina's church is a newly planted, mainly young, sixty strong Baptist congregation worshipping in a vacated  glass fronted shop visible to the whole street.

Not far from Mukachevo I visit the small town of Berehove on the Hungarian border. It’s a busy route to safety and another small Baptist church of about 50 people hosts the constant flow of refugees to daily meals.

Pastor Valentin (pictured) explained, 'In the beginning there could be up to 1000 people a day; there’s now just  a few hundred'.

Their tiny kitchen boasts newly donated gas rings , a cooker and even a cake making oven. Outside is the yard with a small marquee. Valentin explains with a grin, 'Free food also attracts the homeless, so we set up the marquee for them and I also run a daily Bible study after each meal at their request'. 

Later I drive to a vast warehouse loaned to the church. Inside are piles of clothes and food and fresh faced young Dutch volunteers busily sort goods with church members in preparation for distribution at the front line. Three bright yellow minibuses stand outside being loaded.

Mark, a 68-year-old Englishman, was one of the drivers. He said, 'I have a salary from the British Government, otherwise known as my pension and I will continue as long as God gives me strength'. Mark often sleeps in the van while delivering aid and recovering refugees and has taken countless loads to the front line, risking his life under shellfire. 

The scenic Carpathian Mountains border Western Ukraine. On the steppes of the mountains lies Svaliava Baptist Church where I’ve worked and made close friendships for 12 years.

A miracle in itself, the large thriving church is housed in a converted cinema looking akin to a Greek temple (pictured). They planned to open a Bible school and built accommodation for students, but just as the work was completed, the refugees arrived. About 35 internally displaced people are now living there with meals provided by church members. A cruise missile attack hit a refugee train line close by.

One of the residents is a young 26-year-old mother with a child, just escaped from one of the most dangerous areas on the front line. She said, 'I had to flee through terrifying shellfire and explosions to escape in a car with members of my local Baptist church.' She sobs as I pray for her and remember her still trapped family.

Another young friend outlines to me the perils of being a 25-year-old male in Ukraine. 'The police and army work together setting  up roadblocks to catch young people like me and serve conscription papers. That’s why I never go out in daylight.' Many Christians also express their conflict with the Biblical imperative of “Thou shalt not Kill”, alongside the possibility of being forcibly conscripted to kill.

Further into the Carpathian Mountains is the pretty hamlet of Zhdenievo with its few scattered homes nestling in the shadows of the wooded hillsides. In better times we have sent teams for English Camps and funds to build the new youth outdoor centre housing a tiny Baptist church. It was completed just in time as the war began. The leader explained, 'Refugees began to arrive and initially we housed a complete orphanage of 40 children, their teachers and some families. We still shelter fifty.' 

The leader explains with sorrow, 'We were asked as a small village to find four young people to conscript into the army. We did that, but already one has been killed. As we have no other young people we have to give up a third of our earnings to buy weapons for the war effort. But we are a poor and small community.'

Divisions in families caused by the two conflicting streams of Russian and Western propaganda have also split families, with some angrily refusing to engage with opposing relatives causing hard to heal, bitter rifts. 


Conclusion

The Baptist church response to the war in Ukraine is impressive. As Piotr Cywinski, Historian and Director of the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum said, 'Russia, unable to conquer Ukraine, has decided to destroy it.' In return, the churches exercise faith, courage  and resilience. They give solace, shelter, prayer, food, Bible study and practical help, often under great duress to help the victims of this senseless war. 

I found God at work among the Baptist churches in Ukraine as they live up to their high calling and become a light in the darkness.

 

The Revd Alan Bain is the retired Anglican Vicar of St Philip and St James’ Bath where he was minister for 37 years who has been working with church teams in Ukraine since 2007. He now runs an independent group of international mission partners; “Worldwide Mission Partners”. 

The above is a brief report on the effect of the ongoing war and the response of the Baptist church after two weeks travelling in the area during January 2023.

If any readers want to contact me for donations to the churches work in Ukraine, or otherwise, they can, by email: bathali1@gmail.com