Part of the “Thoughts Aloud” mini-series created jointly by the “Sofia Brotherhood” and the German foundation Renovabis, within the project “Contemporary Ukrainian Orthodoxy: Breaking Myths for Reconciliation and Societal Consolidation.” Statements do not necessarily represent the official view of the Sofia Brotherhood.
Priest Vadym Kotlyarenko, UOC (name changed for privacy)
Can one truly feel ashamed of the Church? Of course not—after all, we know the Church to be holy, and therefore sinless. We can only ever take pride in it and rejoice that we know it and freely belong to it.
But the concept of “the Church” is multifaceted. When referring to the Church in lowercase—its earthly manifestation: hierarchy, clergy, parishioners, and ultimately oneself—then yes, one can feel ashamed, and often do.
I first experienced “churchly” shame in primary school when, in atheistic-era reading lessons, I came across yet another story vilifying priests for deceiving innocent people. My father, a priest, had a simple solution: “Everything written against God and the Church is lies.” For my young mind, that sufficed.
Later, in secondary school (after the overt atheism had faded), rumors circulated in church circles and even the press about unpatriotic behavior among some bishops—collaboration with the KGB, even some bishops having secret families. As a teenager, I found it hard to reconcile these claims. My youthful idealism hoped they were false.
With age and experience, I came to realize I am far from perfect. If I ask myself honestly—would I resist collaborating with the authorities? Would I faithfully keep youthful vows I made hastily?—I have no certain answer. My years in ministry tell me: I, too, have caused temptations and disappointment in the clergy and—even, God forbid—the Church. I hope people develop enough wisdom not to confuse the Church itself with some of its unworthy servants.
Today, however, the cause for “churchly” shame is not small scandals but the behavior of the hierarchy: their failure to understand their role, their arrogance born of perceived infallibility—leading to many problems.
A modern bishop can impose unbearable taxes on parishes, arbitrarily serve in them to pursue financial gain, publicly insult and intimidate priests, remove them from service without cause. And there is no one to appeal to. The tyrannical bishop bears no accountability—nor for leading groups of parishes to another jurisdiction.
The abbot of a major monastery physically assaults journalists, tears their cameras, openly curses people, proudly stating how many died as a result—and no authority (not even the Primate) dares challenge him.
What about the Primate himself? Since 2014, he attended ROC Synods, traveled to Russia, refused to stand during Parliament’s minute of silence for Ukraine’s fallen defenders. Until 2022, he mandated Church Slavonic only services and insisted on commemorating the Moscow Patriarch at liturgies in Ukraine. He still cannot—or will not—cut the Church free from Moscow’s grip, preferring to hide from tough questions in his residence in Feofania, or even Chernivtsi.
Because of such incompetent leaders, I feel sorrow and shame. Yet I remain in the Church—the one I was born into and to which Christ called me for service. I stay because I know there are worthy archpastors, many more faithful priests who’ve not contributed to the Church’s chaos, and even more pious laypeople. They are closest to God and His saints. They are with them—and with them alone—I first and foremost associate the Church, not the episcopate.