As daylight edges towards nightfall, people silently climb the steps and enter through the heavy oak doors and into the church. It is a Friday night in Vancouver, the 22nd day of the war in the Ukraine, as Ukrainian Catholics gather during Lent to pray for those who have died. Our hearts are heavy thinking of the war and remembering the dead but this Friday night, the 18th of March, was different.
This is the story of how I was able to join others to make a small difference; but any positive difference at this moment in our history is a victory. Like many of you, I was frustrated with feelings of helplessness when faced with the humanitarian crisis this war is causing. I live in Ukrainian Seniors Housing and so my heart aches for these gentle people who have been nothing but kind to me. I am not wealthy so cannot give them the money they need for supplies. I am far away so cannot offer comfort to those in distress nor read stories to the children or rock a baby. Yes I could pray; but God are you listening? And then one day I wrote the following Beatitudes.
BEATITUDES FOR THE PEOPLE OF UKRAINE
Blessed are those who plant flowers,
for they shall cover the horrors of war; the ashes, the rubble and the graves.
Blessed are those who plant vegetables,
for they shall feed the people tomorrow.
Blessed are those who watch the sun rise and set,
for they will be given strength and endurance.
Blessed are those who stand side by side,
for they are the community of God.
Blessed are those who welcome the stranger,
for they welcome Christ Himself.
Blessed are those who protect and defend the innocent,
for they are the martyrs of today and the peacemakers of our tomorrow.
Blessed are those who remain faithful,
for they are a temple for the indwelling of the Spirit.
Blessed are those who fall on their knees in prayer,
for they entrust everything to God.
Writing this prayer gave me some comfort but it did not change the situation in the Ukraine. What really could one little old lady do by herself? My prayers continued. The war continued.
I thought, if I as a little old lady can pray, what would happen if there are more people praying and we pray together in community (Mt 18:20)? What would happen if we showed our solidarity with our Ukrainian brothers and sisters?
St. Mary’s Ukrainian Catholic Church. The flag was placed in the church after the war began. The flowers in the Ukrainian vase are the sunflower (Ukraine’s national flower), along with wheat (breadbasket of Europe) and poppies for those who died. The next vase is in the colours of Ukraine. The white vase contains lilies for Mary.
I made posters for the bulletin boards and laundry room in St Mary’s Ukrainian Gardens. At the Thursday morning Mass in Korean, I told the people sitting near me about the Divine Liturgy and invited them to join on Friday evening. Then I wrote and delivered an invitation to our neighbours a block away, the Redemptorist Mater seminarians, inviting them to join in supporting our Ukrainian sisters and brothers.
And that Friday night something very special happened – Roman Catholics showed up to support their Ukrainian brothers and sisters. The congregation was almost doubled – half made the sign of the cross one way and half made the sign of the cross the other way.
When Father Joseph saw his diverse congregation, he did a bilingual Divine Liturgy and sometimes announced the page numbers (Byzantine rite). He helped to make the strangers more comfortable and everyone was welcome to receive Communion.
St Mary’s Ukrainian Catholic Church has perhaps the most beautiful church interior in Vancouver. It is vast, seating over 500 people with no pillars obscuring the altar and the floor slopes so everyone can see (and be seen). Above there are three domes with stained glass so sunlight can stream in. Some walls are covered with huge icons made of tiles so the burning candles cannot damage the art. There is a sense of stillness and the holy and each time I enter this sacred space my heart calms; “I am at home with God.” Even though this is not my parish church, it is where I sink before God the most – this is the sacred space where I always meet God.
On this special Friday night, I share the sanctuary with Roman and Ukrainian Catholics and my heart sings because we are in this together, walking side by side, before God. As we leave the now darker sanctuary, the many candles take on more power as the darkness grows.
Outside I speak with a few of the seminarians and thank them for coming. They say it is their first time in this church and at this type of liturgy.
A few days later I visit the seminary and we share our reflections. None of us have ever experienced a war but a few had experience of being in a country after a war.
The Ukrainian Catholics will again be joined by many of the seminarians this week and the seminarians were interested to hear that the Ukrainian Catholics are joining the Ukrainian Orthodox this week in Vancouver for a prayer vigil.
Everyone admitted that praying and uniting together we are stronger than if alone. More and more, different groups are doing what they have in common; in common. More and more we are becoming one before God. It is sad it took a war to make this happen.
Silently I thank God for this beautiful beginning for if we all walk beside one another as brothers and sisters; how can there be other, how can there be different, how can there be war?