Hennadii Khrystokin, Doctor of Philosophy, Professor at the State University “Kyiv Aviation Institute”
When Patriarch Kirill speaks about a “civilizational choice” and the “awakening of the consciousness of Historical Rus’,” he is, in fact, referring not to spirituality but to geopolitical metaphysics — an attempt to justify empire through theology.
This rhetoric is not new. It has been cultivated since Soviet and even pre-revolutionary times in such a way that faith and power merge into a single whole.
Thus was born the formula: salvation is possible only in unity with Moscow. And to this day, many believers, especially within the UOC environment, carry this notion subconsciously. For them, any conversation about autocephaly appears not as a matter of church governance but as a risk of losing the “true faith.”
But is this not a substitution of concepts?
When faith is equated with political loyalty and canonicity with subordination to an imperial center, we are no longer speaking about Christ — we are speaking about power.
When Bishop Theodosius repeats Kirill’s rhetoric about a “common civilization” or a “single spiritual cradle,” it may sound pious, yet within it lies the same message: Ukraine can exist only within Moscow’s orbit.
This is the real trap of the so-called “civilizational choice.” It is not a choice of faith — it is a choice of dependence.
What Ukrainians need today is one thing — to overcome fear.
Fear of the ingrained prejudice that “there is no salvation outside Moscow.”
For Christ has no capital. Salvation is not granted according to “canonical residence registration.”
True faith is freedom and dignity, not submission and fear.
And perhaps here lies our genuine civilizational Rubicon: to be a Church that serves God and humanity — or to remain part of a system that serves an empire.
Civilizational Choice and the Spiritual Trap of the “Single Orbit”
Hennadii Khrystokin, Doctor of Philosophy, Professor at the State University “Kyiv Aviation Institute”
When Patriarch Kirill speaks about a “civilizational choice” and the “awakening of the consciousness of Historical Rus’,” he is, in fact, referring not to spirituality but to geopolitical metaphysics — an attempt to justify empire through theology.
This rhetoric is not new. It has been cultivated since Soviet and even pre-revolutionary times in such a way that faith and power merge into a single whole.
Thus was born the formula: salvation is possible only in unity with Moscow. And to this day, many believers, especially within the UOC environment, carry this notion subconsciously. For them, any conversation about autocephaly appears not as a matter of church governance but as a risk of losing the “true faith.”
But is this not a substitution of concepts?
When faith is equated with political loyalty and canonicity with subordination to an imperial center, we are no longer speaking about Christ — we are speaking about power.
When Bishop Theodosius repeats Kirill’s rhetoric about a “common civilization” or a “single spiritual cradle,” it may sound pious, yet within it lies the same message: Ukraine can exist only within Moscow’s orbit.
This is the real trap of the so-called “civilizational choice.” It is not a choice of faith — it is a choice of dependence.
What Ukrainians need today is one thing — to overcome fear.
Fear of the ingrained prejudice that “there is no salvation outside Moscow.”
For Christ has no capital. Salvation is not granted according to “canonical residence registration.”
True faith is freedom and dignity, not submission and fear.
And perhaps here lies our genuine civilizational Rubicon: to be a Church that serves God and humanity — or to remain part of a system that serves an empire.