Jacek Siepsiak SJ was in Ukraine praying for peace and reconciliation, together with representatives of various religions. He witnessed that people in Ukraine don't only need generators and weapons. They also need closeness, prayer and gestures of solidarity. Here is his testimonial. 

On returning from Kiev 
When accepting the invitation from "Europe, a Patient Association" (a Pan-European association that aims to be the voice of the least powerful against harming greed and short-term interests) to pray in Kiev together with representatives of various religions (in practice Abrahamic), I had some concerns. It was not just a question of security. I did not want it to be war tourism. Therefore, I wondered if it would be better to pray remotely, online. But I became convinced that the people affected by this war need proximity. I recalled the image of Amelka, a little girl singing a song from 'Pocahontas' in the Kiev metro during the air raids to bring some comfort. She later sang the Ukrainian anthem in Poland at the opening of a huge concert of solidarity with Ukraine. How must a child have felt in a bombed-out shelter? Wasn't it like Abel when he realized that Cain was going to kill him? How enormous was the loneliness? Can it only be answered online? 

I was also concerned whether it was too soon for the ministry of reconciliation. This ministry, which is fundamental for Jesuits, could be perceived as urging capitulation in the place where it is common to hear not about the Russians, but about 'Rashists'. 

Discussions are underway about what is most needed in a Ukraine attacked by Russia. There, on the ground, one hears most about generators. And indeed, there is a shortage of electricity every now and then (as it was during the meeting with Archbishop Shevchuk). Although Kiev, for example, is perhaps not blacked out, but dimmed. The sight of a huge metropolis with wide multi-lane streets called "prospekts" and great slabs of concrete, next to which ours buildings seems only like tiny blocks, drowning in almost total darkness, makes a surreal impression. 

There is no electricity there. Not only in the shelters, to which, unfortunately, one has to descend almost systematically. This is more tiring than the raids themselves. One could say that it is not too dangerous. That the rockets in Kiev itself rarely kill. Yet the prolonged sense of danger takes its toll on the psyche. How much can one bear? 
 
They want us to know 
Such tension is exhausting. But loneliness is also hard to bear. And it's not just that the front takes away fathers, husbands and brothers. It is also experienced what I think Abel suffered. Cain was his older brother, and so his natural guardian. When someone like that is going to kill you, you feel extremely abandoned. In Abel's case it lasted a while. In Ukraine, many people have a lengthy feeling that someone who declared himself a brother, a relative and a loved one is now sending rockets and tanks against them. This is difficult to understand. 

That is why Ukrainians need not only generators and weapons. Not even just bullet-proof vests, helmets and special bandages (which they expect from clerics who refuse to provide rifles). Proximity, prayer and gestures of solidarity are also needed. There, in the place, not just over the internet. 

As I mentioned, going there I was afraid that it would be war tourism, that I would feel like in a zoo. But even though there were a lot of inter-religious meetings with hierarchs there, these are people immersed in a 'field hospital'. Often under-shaven. It is a telling image: unshaven nuncios, bishops and priests of various denominations, imams, rabbis... Also, members and staff of parliament. Unshaven, but grateful for our interest. 

But all my fears were allayed when I met people from the destroyed houses of Bucha, Borodyanka or Irpin. Some we met in a container settlement brought from Poland. Others appeared spontaneously among the ruins. They told tragic stories of death, torture, hiding. About helping each other. About hiding loved ones and local priests. But they wanted us to know about it too and to pass it on. And there were times when they were not able to finish their stories, not only because the curfew interrupted them, but because the wounds were too deep. 

It is about the wounds 
And it is precisely about these wounds. Already the curia is organising spiritual healing retreats, led by clergy and psychologists. Not only for those who survived the nightmare of occupation and evacuation. They are also needed by soldiers who for months have been in zone zero, that is at the front line. The constant sense of danger changes people and their reactions. But killing also changes, and seriously. It is not enough to explain that it is for a just cause. The commandment "Thou shalt not kill!" protects not only Abel or Cain, but also those who would like to kill the wandering Cain. In killing we also kill a part of ourselves. 

The ministry of reconciliation is also about helping people to reconcile with themselves. War leaves behind a society in need of inner healing. I do not mean to criticize anyone for sending arms to the Ukrainians. However, we must remember that as we send weapons (to defend ourselves by killing), it will then be necessary to help heal those who used the weapon, and their families. 

Modern, democratic states invest heavily in programmes geared towards restoring to balance those hobbled by killing. The West helped and is helping Ukraine to build a modern army. Will we help the veterans of a war that aims to protect us from war? 

jezuici.pl