Saturday25 January 2025
kriminal-tv.in.ua

"Enemies should be forgiven to prevent hatred from corroding our soul," said the chaplain.

"As a priest, I asked doctors how God manifests in their lives. The head of the hospital, a combat medic and general, said, 'We do everything within our power. There are moments when we give a patient only a 1-2% chance of survival. By all accounts, they shouldn't make it, and yet they pull through. Conversely, there are cases where a patient undergoes a simple five-minute procedure, and they pass away. This illustrates how frequently we feel God's presence. I may hold the scalpel, but I am merely an instrument in the hands of the Lord.'"
«Прощение врагов необходимо, чтобы ненависть не разрушала нашу душу» — слова капеллана.
Сергей Овчарук, почти три года служит капелланом ПЦУ

I Was Preparing for Execution

I came to God only at 25. My first prayer was: why so late? Why have I wasted so much time? And another: grant me, God, love. I feel your love; it is beautiful, and I want to learn to love people like you do.

I was ordained as a priest in 2010 and served as a rector in the city of Oster in the Chernihiv region. I traveled 85 kilometers from home every day.

When the Maidan happened, I was there from the very beginning: I prayed alongside the people. And when the ATO started, I decided to go there. The army is not foreign to me: I served, so I wanted to support the soldiers.

Another priest and I visited the patriarch for a blessing. And he told me: “Father, you have your own war at home; who will raise your children?” And he did not let me go to the front.

I have three children with my wife, and since 2011, we have had a family-type children's home. We take in teenagers who are unwanted. When they "graduate" at 18, meaning they leave the guardianship, we take in others. So far, we have had 17 "graduates." Some have started their own families, and two sons are fighting. I worry about them: one already has several concussions.

So I had a parish in Oster, and since 2015, I served as a chaplain in the military training unit "Desna."

When the full-scale invasion began, our village in the Chernihiv region was occupied. While there was communication, I invited everyone who was scared, had no food, or nowhere to go to our home through the local chat. And people came. At the peak, there were 86 people gathered.

We have a large house of 480 square meters and a good basement. Some Russian soldier peeked in, went down: “Oh, what a bomb shelter, hide here.” He took all mobile phones, tablets, and laptops: “We’ll check them, and we’ll give them back tomorrow.” Yeah, still waiting for that return.

But there was an interesting story. I had two phones; on one, I managed to delete photos and contacts, but on the other, from which I transmitted the coordinates of the Russian troops to our military from the attic, I forgot. I thought, that’s it. They will kill me.

I felt no fear, just the thought: I need to say goodbye to my family, but in a way that they wouldn’t notice. I hugged my wife, while I was pale as a wall. I was waiting for them to come for me. And then two APCs pulled up, and several Russians walked to the door: “What do you have here?” I couldn’t hold back: “What about the phones?”“Your guys shot; everything burned down.”

I was so happy, I went into the house: “There are no phones.”“Why are you happy?” my family asked. Only six months later did I confess to them that I was preparing for execution. I am very grateful to God for leading me away from inevitable punishment.

If You Lose a Leg, Better the Left One

A month after the de-occupation, I was invited to either teach at the Ministry of Internal Affairs Academy or serve in a military hospital, as chaplains were critically lacking.

I leaned towards the academy because I prefer working with young people over the sick. But everything resolved itself: wounded soldiers were already arriving at the hospital, and work was in full swing. I came, had my first day, interacted, and realized this was my calling. God placed me exactly where I needed to be.

What is my job? I’ll start by saying that a priest is someone to whom believers come. It’s easier for him. A chaplain is someone who goes to those who do not believe to introduce them to the Orthodox faith.

On the hospital grounds, there is a church of Saint George the Victorious, where I conduct services as the rector. I also make my daily "rounds" in the hospital wards, asking the soldiers: who are you, where are you from, what faith do you practice, how often do you go to church, do you read the Scriptures, do you want to enter the Kingdom of God, and so on.

I create a sort of spiritual portrait of the person. From there, I figure out what to discuss next.

Just a few weeks ago, I spoke with a 22-year-old guy who had his left leg amputated just below the groin. I asked how he was doing after his injury: was he despairing? And he replied: “No, Father, I asked God: if I have to be injured and lose a leg, let it be the left one. And the main thing is that I don’t lose my livelihood.” That’s how it turned out. — “Why the left one?”“So I can drive a car with an automatic transmission.” He’s in good spirits, and he’ll recover quickly.

Today, I had a lovely couple visiting me. She is from western Ukraine, he is originally from Luhansk, but they met abroad and got married. They live in Ivano-Frankivsk. The woman is religious, constantly reads the Scriptures, and on her birthday, she asked her husband to memorize the "Our Father." And he did because it was important to her. He told me he was so grateful to his wife for praying for him: “Thanks to her, I went to war with God in my heart.”

Many are interested in spiritual questions. One young soldier, with two higher education degrees and an inquisitive mind, said he didn’t know God. But we talked for two hours; I left him a Bible: “Underline everything you don’t understand and call me.” Now he often calls: “Father, will you be here today? Come visit me. What does this mean?” — and we talk again.

The hospital is very interesting. I once traveled to prisons as a priest; there, a person physically has nowhere to rush and has a lot of time for reflection. Here, I also try to convey to the recovering soldiers: “Reflect on your life: what would you like to change? Don’t just sit on your phones; let your mind be alive.”

Faith should also be alive, meaningful. It’s not just about lighting a candle, making the sign of the cross, and saying “Amen.” God doesn’t need that. Christ is not some uncle from an icon; He is both a father and a brother to us, and a mentor.

Sometimes, to explain who God is, I start like this: “There’s a general. Everyone respects him but is also afraid. And he comes home, and the kids run to meet him. They don’t shout: ‘Mom, the general is home!’ No. ‘Dad is home.’ His wife comes out: ‘My beloved.’ So for them, he is not a general.”

So is God. To all the angels, He is a general, but for us — He is not. For us, He is a father, and we must accept that Christ is our family. He loves us and does everything possible to keep us out of trouble. If we suffer, He suffers with us; if we rejoice, He rejoices with us. That is, He is always with us. But we must want this, seek Him, and look into our hearts: is He dear to us or not.

Often, the wounded say they are atheists. I respond: “Do you not believe at all, or is there a little faith?” Usually, there is something. I continue: “Well, let’s start from the point that there is something.” And I suggest searching. Anywhere: read the Bible, the Quran, or other literature; God will reveal Himself to you. It is impossible for someone to seek the Lord and not find Him.

About 30 percent of the people find our meetings necessary. They come back after six months; we meet, and they are joyful. One woman who returned from captivity expressed so much gratitude that I had given her hope.

Praying for Enemies

There are very few wounded who are offended by God. They fought, and if they had a moment, they crossed themselves, remembered all the prayers, asking the Lord to save them. It’s a quick, spontaneous decision; there’s no time for grievances.

But those who truly bear resentment in their hearts are those who returned from captivity. Captivity is terrible; it’s torment, torture, and pain. And some are genuinely angry