ONE Magazine March 2023

Faith on the Front Line

Living the Gospel in places of crisis

COVER STORY

30 24

Finding God in Times of War

Ukrainians on the front line turn to faith text by Barb Fraze with photographs by Konstantin Chernichkin

FEATURES

14 18

38 4

6 CNEWA.org CNEWA1926 CNEWA

Sinking Deeper Churches in Lebanon bear brunt of economic collapse text by Alicia Medina

A Letter From Eritrea by Brother

Esayas Tzegay, F.S.C.

Far From Home

Migrant workers find solace amid hardship in Jordan text by Rosabel Crean with photographs by Raghida Skaff

Symbol or Saint?

Mary, Mother of God, in the Byzantine Tradition text by Mary B. Cunningham

DEPARTMENTS

Connections to CNEWA’s world

t Father Yevhen Cherniuk serves as a military chaplain of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church.

one CNEWA CNEWA1926

Back:

Photo Credits

Front cover, pages 2, 5, 30-31, 33-37, Konstantin Chernichkin; page 3 (top), CNS photo/Paul Haring; pages 3 (upper left, lower right and far right), 7, 10, 11 (inset), 12-13, 18-23, back cover, Raghida Skaff; pages 3 (upper right), 14-17, Courtesy Hagaz Agro Technical School; pages 3 (lower left), 27, Sean Sprague; page 4, CNEWA Beirut; pages 8-9, CNS photo/ Alkis Konstantinidis, Reuters; page 11, Maroun Bassil; page 24, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, N.Y.; pages 28-29, Realimage/Alamy Stock

Photo; page 29, imageBROKER/Alamy Stock

Photo; page 32, Kateryna Hunko; page 38, Justyna Mielnikiewicz.

ONE is published quarterly. ISSN: 1552-2016

CNEWA

Founded by the Holy Father, CNEWA shares the love of Christ with the churches and peoples of the East, working for, through and with the Eastern Catholic churches.

CNEWA connects you to your brothers and sisters in need. Together, we build up the church, affirm human dignity, alleviate poverty, encourage dialogue — and inspire hope.

Publisher

Msgr. Peter I. Vaccari

Editorial

Michael J.L. La Civita, Executive Editor

Laura Ieraci, Assistant Editor

Olivia Poust, Editorial Assistant

David Aquije, Contributing Editor

Elias D. Mallon, Contributing Editor

Creative

Timothy McCarthy, Digital Assets Manager

Paul Grillo, Graphic Designer

Samantha Staddon, Junior Graphic Designer

Officers

Cardinal Timothy M. Dolan, Chair and Treasurer

Msgr. Peter I. Vaccari, Secretary

Editorial Office

1011 First Avenue, New York, NY 10022-4195

1-212-826-1480; www.cnewa.org

©2023 Catholic Near East Welfare Association. All rights reserved. Member of the Catholic Media Association of the United States and Canada.

Front: Sister Lucia Murashko returns from delivering aid to Preobrazhenka, a village on the front line in southern Ukraine.

Students of Blessed Sacrament School in Beit Habbak, Lebanon, at play.

Connections to CNEWA’s world

Earthquake Response in Syria

A 7.8-magnitude earthquake in Syria and Turkey on 6 February, and quakes and aftershocks in the weeks that followed, caused massive damage, killing more than 51,000 people at press time and injuring tens of thousands.

CNEWA responded immediately by focusing its initial relief efforts in Syria, whose people continue to suffer tremendous hardship, after 12 years of civil war devastated the nation’s infrastructure and economy, and rampant internal corruption and U.S.-led sanctions hampered charities in their delivery of much-needed human services.

Working through its established partnerships with church organizations, CNEWA is providing help in Aleppo and less-affected areas, such as Hama and Lattakia, where survivors from the hardest-hit areas have found shelter offered by local Christian communities.

CNEWA’s Beirut-based team, responsible for coordinating CNEWA’s Syria response, has raised more than $2.2 million in emergency funds from a family of donors, European and North American, distributing more than $625,000 in the first stages of immediate relief, which included the provision of food, medicine, blankets, clothes and other essentials. As the situation remains fluid with powerful aftershocks, long-term planning — which includes infrastructure and housing assessment, restoration and rebuilding — is on hold until some stability resumes.

By the beginning of March, CNEWA’s partners, including members of the Franciscan, Mekhitarist and Salesian communities, Society of St. Vincent de Paul and Blue Marists, were sheltering and/or providing aid for up to 3,000 people, responding to requests for food — the greatest priority — as well as mattresses, blankets, sanitary items, clothes, milk and diapers.

In Aleppo, at press time, the Mekhitarist Fathers were sheltering 700 people in their school and the Society of St. Vincent de Paul was supporting about 1,700 people in 10 centers. An additional 1,000 people were being sheltered at two centers of the Melkite Greek Catholic Archeparchy of Homs, Hama and Yabroud and another 1,200 people by the Franciscan Friars in Lattakia. CNEWA is working closely with the Chaldean bishops in Syria and Turkey, whose communities were impacted by the quake.

CNEWA Regional Director Michel Constantin, who manages crises responses from the Beirut office, said preparations were in place for the next stage of assistance, such as the relocation of families, rental assistance, minor repairs of homes, and supply of furniture to those rendered homeless. CNEWA President Msgr. Peter I. Vaccari added that supporting local businesses to help revive societies, especially those of the Christian community, will help stabilize a people shattered by war, sectarian violence, sanctions, corruption and now, earthquakes.

To help CNEWA’s relief efforts, go to: cnewa.org/work/emergency-syria

Michel Constantin, CNEWA’s regional director in Beirut, visits with a family in Aleppo on 25 February, one of hundreds sheltered by the Society of St. Vincent de Paul after the devastating 6 February earthquake in Syria and Turkey.

CNEWA in Chicago

CNEWA cosponsored a series of events organized by the Lumen Christi Institute in Chicago on 22-23 February to mark the anniversary of the war on Ukraine.

Highlights included a 140-person luncheon at the University Club of Chicago on 23 February, featuring Metropolitan Borys Gudziak of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Archeparchy of Philadelphia, who spoke of the witness of the underground church in Ukraine during its suppression under communism.

In the evening, the archbishop was part of a four-person panel discussion at the University of Chicago on the theme, “Ideologies of War and Theologies of Healing: Ukraine One Year Later.” About 60 people attended in person and almost 300 online. Msgr. Vaccari and Michael J.L. La Civita, director of communications, were present. Watch a recording of the panel at: cnewa.org/war-narrativesand-healing-in-the-war-onukraine

Ukraine One Year Later

One year after the Russian invasion of Ukraine — which has displaced a third of the nation’s 41 million people, killed and wounded tens of thousands, and devastated the country’s infrastructure and economy — CNEWA’s support to its churches and peoples continues.

In the past year, CNEWA has rushed more than $6.8 million in emergency funds to support church-led relief initiatives in Ukraine and neighboring countries hosting Ukrainian refugees: Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Moldova, Romania and Georgia.

CNEWA has supported some 100 specific initiatives in Ukraine — about $5.2 million in direct aid — much of it

through Caritas, but also through Greek Catholic and Orthodox eparchies, parishes, seminaries and religious houses, as well as Ukrainian Catholic University in Lviv.

Welcome to New Prefect

CNEWA welcomes Archbishop Claudio Gugerotti as the new prefect of the Dicastery for the Eastern Churches.

Ordained a priest in 1982, Archbishop Gugerotti taught patristics, theology and liturgy before joining the Roman Curia in 1985. He worked for the Congregation for Eastern Churches, the predecessor to the dicastery, before being named undersecretary in 1997. In 2002, he began to serve in the Holy See’s diplomatic service, being appointed as papal nuncio first to Georgia, Armenia

and Azerbaijan, and then to Belarus, Ukraine and Great Britain. He was named prefect in November and began in his new role in midJanuary. Welcome, Archbishop Gugerotti!

Fore! Golf Classic 18 May

Come out for CNEWA’s inaugural golf classic on 18 May, where the theme, “And Who Is My Neighbor?”, will gather friends of CNEWA in the spirit of generosity. By purchasing a golf foursome or any of the sponsorship levels, you will support CNEWA’s mission and its work in the field. Single golf and dinner tickets are also available. Try your hand in longest-drive and putting contests for the chance to win prizes, along with other sponsored prizes at each par-3 hole. For tickets or information, call (212) 826-1480

Sister Lucia Murashko in Zaporizhzhia, southern Ukraine, hugs a Ukrainian soldier who came from the front to pick up provisions on 7 February.

Sinking Deeper

by

Aray of sunlight shines through the window as 7-year-old

Antonia plays a guitar chord she has just learned for Sister Gladys Sassine. Antonia lives at Blessed Sacrament School in Beit Habbak, a remote village in northern Lebanon. Sister Gladys, the school’s director, smiles with pride, but her eyes reveal a hint of concern.

Sister Gladys’s congregation, the Maronite Congregation of the Missionary Sisters of the Most Blessed Sacrament, as with many other religious communities and organizations throughout Lebanon, is navigating one of the worst economic crises since the 1850s, and the school’s future is uncertain.

Since 2019, Lebanon has been caught in an economic spiral with no end in sight. Three decades of mismanagement by the country’s political and banking elite, a climate of corruption and structural inequality — exacerbated by the

COVID-19 pandemic and the Beirut port blast in 2020 — have pushed Lebanon into nearly $103 billion of public debt.

A United Nations official has described Lebanon as a “failing state,” unable to pay its bills across the board, including its hospitals and schools, leaving civil society and its people struggling to stay afloat. In January, Lebanon lost its right to vote at the U.N. General Assembly because it had failed to pay its dues. The looming question in the mind of many Lebanese is: How much longer can we cope?

At Blessed Sacrament School, the 1,400 students seem oblivious to the precarious situation. When the school bell rings, they pour into the corridors, filling them with laughter, as they have since 1969, when the school opened to serve families in the area.

The school pays most of its bills in U.S. dollars, even though its income is primarily in Lebanese

pounds — an unsustainable situation since the Lebanese pound has lost 90 percent of its market value since 2019.

In January, Lebanon’s currency was trading on the market at 67,000 pounds to the dollar, far from the official bank rate of 1,500 pounds to the dollar, which Lebanon’s central bank had maintained for 25 years.

On 1 February, Riad Salameh, the central bank governor, who is being investigated for money laundering and embezzlement, changed the official bank rate to 15,000 pounds to the dollar in an attempt to unify exchange rates. However, in midFebruary, the exchange rate on the market, which impacts most Lebanese on a daily basis, was trading at an all-time low of 80,000 pounds.

A health care worker at the Psychiatric Hospital of the Cross, east of Beirut, comforts a patient.

The backbone of Lebanon — the social service initiatives of the churches — bears the brunt of a country in collapse

Alicia Medina

With this devaluation, the survival for many is at stake.

At Blessed Sacrament School, a teacher’s monthly salary is between 2 million and 4 million pounds. Prior to 2019, 2 million pounds equaled $1,333; these days, it is between $25 and $35.

“Their salary is the same as the cost of two tanks of fuel,” says Sister Gladys. “How can teachers even afford transportation to the school?”

CNEWA is assisting the school by covering gas stipends and a portion of teacher salaries in dollars.

Electricity is the school’s main expense at $5,000 per week. The state rations electricity, supplying only two hours per day; the school must use its own fuel-powered generators the rest of the time. Covering fuel costs has become more difficult since the central bank fully phased out the national fuel subsidy last September. The Ministry of Education has not provided the education subsidies it owes the school for the past five years.

To cut costs, Blessed Sacrament School has reduced class time to four days a week, shrunk its boarding program from 60 to 19 students, and suspended professional training courses. The school is living off of donations, says Sister Gladys.

Mother Arze Gemayel, director of Al Saydeh Hospital for the Chronically Ill in Antelias, about 7 miles east of Beirut, is faced with major challenges in providing proper care to patients since the government stopped health care subsidies to the hospital. Her congregation, the Franciscan Sisters of the Cross, has been running the long-term care center since 1946. Currently, they care for 450 elderly patients and 100 patients with special needs. Of these, 75 percent come from

families with limited means and costs for their care are supposed to be covered by the state at a rate of 50,000 pounds per patient per day.

“That’s [now less than] $1 per patient per day, far from enough. But in any case, the state hasn’t paid in a year,” says Mother Arze.

The other 25 percent of patients, who once had resources to pay

their own way, now struggle to cover their monthly bills, she adds.

On a sunny winter morning, Gariné Pambukian sits with her 87-year-old mother in the center’s cafeteria, surrounded by banana, lemon and avocado trees, enjoying a view of the Mediterranean Sea.

Gariné’s mother has Alzheimer’s disease and has lived at the

center for two years. With a monthly income of 3 million pounds, Gariné and her husband, who already care for his parents in their home, struggle to pay the 1.5-million-pound hospital fee.

The meager revenue from patient care does not cover the hospital’s rising costs, including salaries for the 200-member staff and the

$6,000 weekly fuel expense, says Mother Arze. An average monthly salary for hospital staff is 12 million pounds, plus an additional $200. It is common in Lebanon these days

for salaries to be paid in both Lebanese pounds and U.S. dollars, to help employees stave off devaluation.

Still, in the past two years, 50 hospital staff resigned either to work at private hospital centers that pay fully in dollars or to work abroad. The economic turmoil has led to a massive wave of emigration, making Lebanon the most remittance-dependent country worldwide in 2022.

Lebanon’s economy — largely dependent on the inflow of foreign currency to support an artificial and dangerously low fixed rate to the dollar — imploded in summer 2019, after a shortage of dollars in the Lebanese market.

A few months later, in October, sparked by the government’s announcement of new taxes, protests broke out across the country against the political elite, blamed for the fragile state infrastructure and poor economy. But the energy on the streets did not translate into a unified political movement and could not stem the devaluation of the pound that had begun.

In March 2020, Lebanon defaulted on its foreign debt. Things got increasingly worse, with the devastating economic effects of the COVID-19 pandemic and the Beirut port blast on 4 August that killed more than 200 people and caused as much as $4.6 billion in material damage.

The port blast has become a symbol of the disdain and impunity of the Lebanese ruling class, from the criminal carelessness of storing tons of explosive material at the port to the attempts to sidetrack the judicial probe into the explosion.

The government’s political deadlock, which includes the failure to elect a president, has prevented the implementation of reforms that

Thirteen days of anti-government protests in Lebanon in October 2019 led to the resignation of then-Prime Minister Saad Hariri.

The CNEWA Connection

This privatization was not a weakness per se, “as long as we had an economy,” he adds.

At the time, civil society stepped up with its own initiatives to cover the gaps left in caring for the most vulnerable. However, in the current situation, these church and nonprofit groups are bearing the weight of a growing vulnerable population and are struggling to keep up with the need.

Beyond Hariri’s policies, the fragility of the state as a service provider can be traced back further to the Lebanese civil war and the years immediately following, says Karim Merhej, nonresident fellow at the Tahrir Institute for Middle East Policy.

When the Beirut port blast hit in August 2020, CNEWA’s response was immediate, rushing aid to affected families, schools and health care facilities. Compounding crises in Lebanon have left its people and institutions devastated, as unemployment continues to soar and the currency depreciates.

In May 2022, CNEWA was awarded four grants totaling $1.86 million to support the operating costs of health care centers and schools in Lebanon. The funds were distributed among five Catholic hospitals, the Message de Paix rehabilitation center and 14 Catholic schools.

To support the work of the churches in support of the people of Lebanon, call 1-866-322-4441 (Canada) or 1-800-442-6392 (United States).

could unlock international funds, mainly through the International Monetary Fund. Maronite Patriarch Bechara Boutros Rai has repeatedly criticized Lebanon’s politicians for their inability to put the good of the people before their own interests and form a cabinet to address the economic collapse.

The crisis has obliterated Lebanon’s middle class. Eighty percent of the population now lives under the poverty line, with little to rely on, except for the charitable works of the churches and other

nonprofit organizations. Aside from a few state assistance programs that offer minimal coverage — many of which have been suspended in the current situation — the country has no social safety net.

The origin of this “fragile state” can be traced in part to the policies of former prime minister Rafik Hariri in the 1990s, which “encouraged the private sector to have an upper hand in social services, like education,” says Michel Constantin, CNEWA’s regional director in Beirut.

“Militia men in the civil war became the rulers of the post-war state, in an era called ‘spoilsharing,’” he explains. “The state and its institutions and all of its resources were used not for public welfare, for giving public services, but instead were used to support sectarian clientelist networks, so each one of the warlords got his own fiefdom in the state.”

The Achilles’ heel of Lebanon’s economy has been its dependence on the inflow of dollars to sustain a fictional fixed exchange rate, Mr. Merhej adds.

“In the ’90s, the productive sectors of our economy — agriculture, manufacturing, industry — were decimated in favor of financialization of the economy,” he says.

By the end of that decade, “the state was borrowing [money] from banks by issuing treasury bonds

At right, Lebanese hold the portraits and personal effects of their loved ones who died from the Beirut port blast on 4 August 2020, during a memorial Mass on the first anniversary of the explosion. Inset, Sister Gladys Sassine reads to three boarders at Blessed Sacrament School in Beit Habbak.

“How long can we stay like this? I don’t know. But we are not scared. God is with us.”

with ridiculously high interest rates, like 40 percent,” he continues. Debt started spiraling and, by 2001, “it became clear that there was a collapse in view.”

The international community, through several international donor conferences, stepped in to bail out the Lebanese ruling class. But the inflow of dollars — mainly through real estate, banking products and tourism — started shrinking in 2011. In 2016, the central bank responded by creating a “financial engineering scheme” to attract foreign currency: Banks would offer up to 20 percent interest to entice foreign investors to put their dollars in Lebanese banks.

This became a sort of “Ponzi system, built on unsustainable debt accrued by the state with the expectation that Lebanon was too important to fail, and it will always be bailed out internationally,” says Mr. Merhej.

The expectation was a miscalculation, and the banking system began to collapse. As the 2019 crisis unfolded, Lebanese citizens saw their life savings evaporate with the devaluation of the pound. The banks responded by locking most depositors out of their accounts, refusing any withdrawal request. In the past year, dozens of desperate citizens have resorted to robbing their banks at gunpoint to recover their own deposits. Banks have responded by fencing their buildings and hiring armed guards.

The banking collapse has had a dramatic impact on the good works of the churches and other nonprofit groups. CNEWA, for instance, has had to stop its small-business loan program in Lebanon, which began in 1999.

Sister Therese Abou Nassif, director of the Psychiatric Hospital of the Cross, speaks with a patient in the hospital’s courtyard.

“We have given loans to 1,000 persons, with an average loan of $10,000,” says Mr. Constantin. “This program changed the life of many small agricultural, food and beverage businesses, but now it has stopped. The deposits are trapped.”

The banking situation has become a nightmare, says Manale Nehme, director of Message de Paix, which provides psychosocial care for 150 adults with special needs. Message de Paix has three centers: in Beirut, Maad and Bikfaya.

Beneficiaries receive free professional training and learn basic life skills for independent living. As well, 45 people are employed in the center’s cooking, crafts and candle-making workshops, while 30 work in local businesses. However, it has become increasingly difficult to persuade businesses to hire adults with intellectual disabilities, she says.

The program generated revenue primarily from product sales and received funding from the Ministry of Social Affairs. But sales have slowed, and the ministry’s funding has dropped, from 30 percent of the center’s annual budget in 2019 to 3 percent in 2023.

The organization has had to draw on savings to make ends meet — to save on costs, it also closed its Beirut center in February — but Ms.

Nehme says the bank will not allow a monthly withdrawal of more than 8 million pounds and the situation is threatening its sustainability.

“Today, I had a fight with the bank, and I got 25 million pounds. That’s $500. It doesn’t cover anything,” Ms. Nehme says exasperated.

Help from donors, church organizations, such as CNEWA, and individuals are the only reason Message de Paix is still operating, she says. Other church-run social service organizations are in the same position.

Back at Blessed Sacrament School, Sister Gladys expresses a similar concern: “We are trying as much as we can to continue. If we close, these children will have no Catholic school to go to in this area.”

“It is a miracle that people from Lebanon and abroad are helping us,” says Mother Arze, director of the elderly care center in Antelias. “How long can we stay like this? I don’t know.

“But we are not scared. God is with us.”

Alicia Medina is a Spanish freelance journalist based in Athens. Her work has been published in international media, including News Deeply, Syria Direct, Syria Untold, Deutsche Welle and Radio France International.

Support the good work of the church in Lebanon cnewa.org I cnewa.ca

Learn about the life within a church-run psychiatric hospital, struggling to offer care in Lebanon’s current crisis

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“The banking collapse has had a dramatic impact on the good works of the churches and other nonprofit groups.”

A Letter From Eritrea

A De La Salle brother looks back, and forward, to a mission of service

by Brother Esayas Tzegay, F.S.C.

Editors’ note: In 1997, upon the request of the government of Eritrea, the Brothers of the Christian Schools took on the project of opening an agricultural school in the central part of the country. Last August, after 25 years, the government claimed the school from the brothers. In his Letter From Eritrea, Brother Esayas Tzegay recalls the school’s founding, shares its significant accomplishments and looks to the future with hope and trust.

Hagaz Agro Technical School is about 75 miles north of Asmara, the capital of Eritrea, a country in the Horn of Africa that claimed independence in 1991, formalizing it through a public referendum two years later.

Agriculture is significant to the economy of the country. In the 1990s, there was a need to teach agricultural techniques. The government approached the Catholic Church, asking if it could open an

agricultural school in Hagaz, a city in the center of the country, situated in the Anseba Region.

Church leaders put the request to the Brothers of the Christian Schools, commonly known as the De La Salle Brothers, who started the project in 1997 and received its first group of students in 1999.

The boarding school is located on almost 100 acres of land donated by the government. The land was arid and the sun was harsh. The

Students pose for a photo on farmland belonging to Hagaz Agro Technical School in Hagaz, Eritrea.

RESPONDING TO HUMAN NEEDS

scarcity of water made it more difficult to have a farm and a school of agriculture. The only hope was to access groundwater.

The brothers, together with donors, dug four wells and two boreholes, and the school introduced a drip irrigation system in order to manage the little water. With strict and careful water management, the school was turned into a fruitful and beautiful oasis, which our students used to call “Eden.” It was a miracle and a model.

Our students came from all over the country, mostly from rural areas and farming families, but also from all tribes, religions and regions. However, we created a culture — a loving school community — wonderfully open to each other. With the cooperation of the government, the church, the De La Salle Brothers, the Ursuline Sisters, the donors and the local people, the school gave excellent service to the nation by training young people at the high school and college levels in agriculture. The school trained

local farmers, gave technical assistance, created employment opportunities, supplied drinking water to nearby villages and contributed to the market through its production.

The school was influential in introducing new agricultural technology, in its method of training, in its cooperation with the local people, in its philosophy of self-sufficiency and in its ability to create a united school community, despite the many potentially divisive issues. This has been the

“Our mission is to be closer to the young … It will not be as formal as before, but we will be there to help our youth and children.”

history of the school since its foundation to date.

In my experience, CNEWA has been one of those donors that journeyed with us, especially in our most difficult moments over the past 20 years, through its consistent annual subsidies and support for specific projects.

There was a time when we had a water shortage as a result of our old water pumps, and our boreholes were full of sand. The climate was hot and the groundwater was low. It was not easy for the water pumps to continue pumping 24 hours a day for months; they could break down easily. If drinking and irrigation water were to flow on campus, then the water pumps had to be repaired immediately. Thanks to CNEWA, which came to our assistance, we were able to flush the boreholes and buy new water pumps.

In addition, most of our students came from poor farming families. Unfortunately, we would encounter students — male and female — who came without the basic necessities. These students were able to complete their studies without stress, thanks to CNEWA’s intervention.

St. John Baptist de La Salle, the founder of the Brothers of the Christian Schools, would always tell the brothers to rely on God’s providence. At the multipurpose hall of Hagaz Agro Technical School, a motto hangs on the wall that says, “Teaching minds and touching hearts.”

Over 25 years, the desert was turned to fertile green land; a loving

Students learn about agriculture in both their indoor and outdoor classrooms. The De La Salle Brothers opened the school in 1997 to bolster the country’s agriculture sector and raise up a community of trained agriculturists.

school community was created despite many dividing factors; a technically well-equipped school was staffed by motivated and hardworking teachers; quality education was offered; quality production was brought to the market; and donors were brought together to create a wonderful school.

As for me, I see nothing but the hand of God. Thanks be to God and all the people who sacrificed their lives under the scorching sun and who were on this great journey, creating such a wonderful school and giving meaningful service to the people of Eritrea.

Today, it is my hope, as the government takes over the administration and ownership of the school, that the school’s mission will continue and its vision will expand.

As far as the De La Salle Brothers’ mission is concerned, it will continue. Our mission is to be open to where God is sending us. We are available to his plan and to the

service of our people. We are opening new ministries within the country. We have many children and young people who seek our support. The need comes in many faces. Our mission is to be closer to the young, offering them spiritual, psychological, moral, social, physical and intellectual support. It will not be as formal as before, but we will be there to help our youth and children. We are open to God’s voice and ready to go wherever he sends us.

Dear CNEWA family, may the suffering, incarnated Jesus Christ be always with you and encourage you, as you continue in service to God, through his church. Thank you for your wonderful journey with us these past 20 years at Hagaz Agro Technical School. I invite you to continue journeying with us, as faithful as ever, in the new ministries we will begin.

Brother Esayas Tzegay is a member of the Brothers of the Christian Schools in Eritrea.

Far From Home

Migrant workers find solace amid hardship in Jordan

text

by Rosabel Crean with photographs by Raghida Skaff

RRhea Fernando was 22 years old when she left her home country to work 5,500 miles away. She was in the middle of a nursing degree when she decided to drop out to help her parents, who were struggling financially.

“Of course, you are innocent,” says Ms. Fernando, laughing nervously and recalling her first years in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan as a domestic worker. “You don’t know what is going on. I didn’t know what I would work as or what I would do.”

Ms. Fernando, now 40, is one of thousands of Filipinos who move to the Middle East every year in search of employment, signing up as housemaids, nannies, caregivers, shop assistants and cleaners. She found a job in Jordan through a recruitment agency in Manila that connects Filipinos to domestic work abroad.

“When I was on the plane, I was thinking, ‘Lord, hopefully the employer will not do something to me, like rape, something like this,’ ” she says. Her fears were not unfounded; human rights groups have documented rape among the various crimes and forms of abuse frequently suffered by migrant workers worldwide.

The recruitment agency placed Ms. Fernando with a Jordanian couple in Amman, the capital city. She adhered diligently to their requests to care for their two sons, cook, clean and, at times, give the wife and husband massages. It was more than a full-time job, she says. She worked seven days a week with only five hours of sleep each night; she was paid $150 a month.

Her working conditions were typical of Jordan’s “kafala system,” a structure of employment for foreign workers used in the Gulf nations,

Migrant workers in Jordan use video chat apps to stay in touch with their support network.

RESPONDING TO HUMAN NEEDS

Lebanon and Jordan. According to the latest figures from the International Labor Organization in 2019, there are 24.1 million migrant workers in 12 states in the Middle East.

The workers, often from socioeconomically depressed countries in Africa and Asia, commonly enter a legally binding contract — for an initial two-year period, in the case of Jordan — which grants the employer full control over the employee’s working and living conditions, including work hours, time off, the terms for resignation and their movement within the country.

At face value, the system seems adequate. For example, an employer will cover living and travel expenses, with most domestic workers living in their employer’s home. After the first two years, the employee has

the right to renew their contract, find new employment or return to their country of origin. However, human rights groups say this system has created ripe conditions for physical, mental and sexual abuse, exploitation and racism.

Jordan’s labor laws stipulate that foreign workers are entitled to one day off per week, that passports should not be confiscated and working hours should not exceed eight per day, but routinely the legislation is violated. Employees are often trapped in jobs in which they are overworked, restricted from communication with the outside world, limited in their access to food and denied personal time.

Ms. Fernando recalls wrapping up leftover bread and hiding it in the trash can to eat secretly at night.

It was usual for her “madam” and “boss” — the terms she uses to refer to the wife and husband respectively who once employed her — to shut her inside the house if they went out. They would lock the windows and doors and activate the security alarm. When cleaning the windows one day, she began wondering how she would escape in an emergency. Would she break the glass and jump the two floors down to the street?

“I never left the house,” Ms. Fernando adds, except to accompany the children. She was forbidden to talk to anyone on those outings. If she did, the children would report back to their parents. During that time, Ms. Fernando turned to prayer, asking for courage from God to endure the hardships and find strength to continue working to support her parents back home.

“When you go to church you have peace. Church is one of the only ways to ease your pain, anxiety or anything you have as a burden on your heart.”

The CNEWA Connection

Despite the personal toll and risks associated with the kafala system, more than 43,000 Filipinos live and work in Jordan, according to figures from the Philippines embassy there. Of these, only a minority is registered with valid work permits. This small percentage is indicative of two recurring problems: sponsors who fail to pay for the renewal of the migrant’s work permit and workers who run away from employers who prohibit them from resigning. Both situations make the worker’s status illegal and place them at risk of imprisonment.

Christianity plays a huge role in the lives of the Filipino women, who come from a country where 80 percent of the population is Roman Catholic. Many have found comfort, strength and friendship in the work of the Teresian Association, a Catholic community of lay people long engaged in the country, working with youth as well as migrant workers. They launched a support program for migrant workers in 2018.

The association was founded in Spain in 1911 by St. Pedro Poveda Castroverde, a priest who was martyred during the religious persecutions of the early 20th century in Spain. Its members are lay men and women, living the value of “faith and reason” in carrying out their mission of contributing to human and social transformation through sociocultural and educational activities. They do so through their various professions and talents. Currently, there are two

At left, Amman, the capital of Jordan, draws numerous migrant workers seeking a better life. Top right, Elisa Estrada, a member of the Teresian Association, chats with two migrant workers from the Philippines, Leonida Pagsuguiron, right, and Aurea Perlas, left, in the CNEWA-Pontifical Mission Library in Amman.

CNEWA has partnered with the Teresian Association for decades, supporting its work among the local churches, underwriting operational expenses and funding new programs. In doing so, CNEWA helps the Teresians expand programs, provide catechetical support and offer psychological and social counseling to displaced families, migrant workers and refugees.

The Teresians are lay women and men committed to a mission of education, culture, human development and social transformation. In Jordan, they support migrant women who are unjustly and illegally recruited by local employers. They provide a venue for them for encounters outside their regular work.

To support this vital work, call 1-866-322-4441 (Canada) or 1-800-442-6392 (United States).

Teresian members living in community in Amman who dedicate their lives full time to this mission.

Elisa Estrada, a Teresian, has spent almost 40 years in the Holy Land, having served in Jerusalem, Bethlehem and now Amman. She is the director of the CNEWA-Pontifical Mission Library and Community Center, where most activities for migrants are held. Amabel Sibug, a fellow Teresian, supervises the activities for migrants and works with the Filipino chaplaincy in Amman.

Ms. Estrada says the pastoral care of migrant workers involves more than simply offering them opportunities to gather together while far from home. The program offers these Filipina women a safe

place in which to find community and mutual support, and to de-stress while nurturing their faith. Mass for the migrant community is celebrated once a week at each of two Latin-rite Catholic churches in Amman — St. Joseph on Sundays and Annunciation of Mary on Fridays — catering to the differing days off for the workers.

Lucy Obejas is one of about 100 faithful at the Mass on Fridays at the parish of the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem. It is her day off from caring for the children of a European diplomat. She has been living and working in Amman since 2005.

“When you go to church you have peace,” says Ms. Obejas, standing in the crisp air of a sunny winter’s day. “Church is one of the

only ways to ease your pain, anxiety or anything you have as a burden on your heart.”

After Mass, many take the 10-minute drive to gather at the CNEWA-Pontifical Mission Community Center for a weekly community lunch. They enjoy a mixed buffet of Arabic dishes, such as spiced chicken and rice or a sweet dessert, called “knafeh,” as well as Filipino dishes, such as noodles, pork broth and mango salad, all prepared by the women who attend church.

The atmosphere is jovial and warm; women are chatting or participating in a choral group. Ms. Fernando, who is very pleased with

her new employment as a domestic for a European diplomat — a sought-after position, since such employers are known for their respect of labor laws and adequate compensation — volunteers to help prepare activities each week; she regards it as a way to demonstrate her appreciation.

“It makes you feel different,” she says of the day, “away from, what do you call it, sadness?”

She takes a moment to recall the word she had been searching for: homesickness.

“It is very special,” she reiterates of the weekly gathering. “It is my medication.”

The Teresians have played an important part in Ms. Fernando’s faith life as well, arranging for her to receive the sacraments of baptism, confirmation and marriage to Ismail, her Filipino husband, in Jordan.

The library and community center are at the heart of the care offered

by the Teresians, serving the local population, in addition to the Christian community and migrant workers. The library — one of only a handful of public libraries in the city — holds more than 30,000 books and magazines in Arabic, English and French.

Ms. Estrada and Ms. Sibug, both librarians and both Filipina, run the library, which doubles as a community center that hosts seminars, Bible study, counseling sessions and workshops for spiritual development, as well as English classes for Iraqi, Syrian and African refugees. The community also holds intercultural and interreligious activities, and people of all ages, religions and nationalities are welcome.

Programming specifically for migrant workers includes talks by lawyers and human rights experts on the workers’ legal status in Jordan. Ms. Sibug holds weekly sessions to help women who have

Above, migrant worker Leonida Pagsuguiron, left, is living at her friend’s house and receiving assistance from the Teresian Association for her needs, as she recovers from an illness.

been abused by employers or who are in difficult situations.

The strict conditions in the kafala system mean women can be helpless if they are in an abusive work setting. Often, they will resort to running away from their employer. In a desperate state and too frightened to take any belongings — including their passport, which is sometimes in their employer’s possession — they turn up at the embassy or seek help from other Filipina women or churchgoers.

Over time, the embassy of the Philippines has increased its initiatives and interventions on behalf of migrant workers, slowly improving the lives of these workers. For example, the embassy offers legal support and coordinates with Jordan’s Ministry of Labor in legal cases brought against Filipina women by an employer. An orientation day for new arrivals now ensures Filipino citizens know the embassy’s contact details, their rights and the cultural differences and customs of the Arab and Muslim-majority state.

Ms. Estrada explains why many women choose to leave their homes and families behind: Work options are scarce in the island nation and access to higher education remains financially exclusive, leaving people stuck in cycles of poverty. These factors push many to seek jobs abroad that offer compensation in a strong foreign currency. However, they make huge sacrifices in doing so.

“Normally, the Filipina comes here to earn money to pay for the tuition fees of her children — that is the number one reason,” says Ms. Estrada.

She explains the round-the-clock tasks involved in caring for these women, who often call or text for help.

“For example, if they are sick or they need help with medication or maybe with their papers,” she says.

She shares the precarious situation of one woman, who has been working without a legal permit for four months; her new employer has failed to update her papers. If the police catch her without a permit she will be jailed, Ms. Estrada explains.

“Once they [Filipina women] are in prison, they will not have contact with us anymore … until the staff of the Philippines embassy intervenes,” she explains.

Arlene Sanchez, 51, has spent the past 16 years working in Amman as a housemaid to fund her children’s schooling. During the first 12 years working for the same family, the single mother never saw her monthly salary. Instead, her employer, whom she refers to as “sir,” would transfer her income directly to her children in the Philippines. Ms. Sanchez started with a monthly salary of $150.

“But my ‘sir’ [was] very good. Every six months he raised my salary,” she says.

“Even if you work hard in the Philippines, it is still not enough,” she adds. “If you have five kids [and] if you are poor like me…[you] cannot send kids to university.”

She now works as a housemaid for another family. Despite the challenges, she expresses gratitude for her work that allows her to support her family in the Philippines, as well as for the activities of the Teresians.

“It is like family; you forget all the stress,” says Ms. Sanchez of the home away from home environment created in Amman by the Teresians.

“You work all week and you come here happy, enjoying talking and singing here in the library.”

Rosabel Crean is a freelance journalist based in Beirut. She writes for The Telegraph, The New Arab and New Lines Magazine, and reports for the Catholic weekly The Tablet.

Protect the dignity and security of migrant workers in Jordan

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Symbol or Saint? Mary, Mother of God, in the Byzantine Tradition

By Mary B. Cunningham

It is truly right to call you blessed, who gave birth to God, ever blessed and most pure and the Mother of our God. Greater in honor than the cherubim and beyond compare more glorious than the seraphim, without corruption you gave birth to God the Word. Truly the Mother of God, we magnify you.

This Hymn to the Theotokos, which Eastern Christians say or sing in many services, as well as in their private prayers at home, expresses the importance of Mary in the Byzantine tradition of the Eastern churches.

The Mother of God, according to this text, ranks above the highest powers and angels in the celestial hierarchy. It is inadequate to describe her as a saint as she transcends even these transfigured people in her purity, holiness and intercessory power. But have we lost sight of the human woman when we exalt Mary to this extent? Has she come to represent a theological symbol rather than a real person who lived in Judea and Galilee during the first century? The Virgin Mary, the all-Holy Mother of God, fulfills both these roles in

addition to others, including tender mother, faithful disciple of Christ, protector and warrior. She is a multifaceted figure who the Eastern Christian faithful have appealed to for many centuries, calling on her intercession according to their needs.

Let us explore three main aspects of the Mother of God: first, her Christological importance; second, her historical role in the life and mission of Jesus and, finally, her place as protector and defender of Christians. Each of these characteristics has roots in the Early Christian and Byzantine traditions although they developed at different times.

The essential role that the Virgin Mary played in the Incarnation of Christ was recognized from an early date in the church. At the same time, early church fathers, such as Ignatius of Antioch, saw this as a mystery that remained hidden. This, he writes, along with the death of the Lord, was “accomplished in the silence of God.”

Early writers such as Ignatius were probably aware of the gospels of Matthew and Luke, in which the stories of Christ’s birth were told; however, they also recognized that

these narratives left much unsaid. For example, who was the virgin who lived in Nazareth, “engaged to a man whose name was Joseph”? When and how exactly did she become pregnant when, according to her own account, she was a virgin? (Lk 1:26-38).

The silence of the Evangelists on these questions led later writers, such as the author of a probably mid-second-century text known as the Protoevangelium of James, to expand on the story. This account provides many more details about Mary’s parents, her miraculous conception — since Joachim and Anna were known to be sterile and had long passed childbearing age — infancy in the temple, betrothal to Joseph at the age of 12 and, above all, her virginity even after she had given birth to the Messiah in a deserted cave.

The theological message of the Protoevangelium is that this female child was special from the moment of her conception. She was brought up in the holiest part of the Jewish temple, thus remaining pure enough to give birth to Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Later patristic writers would develop these ideas

Mary, as tender mother, is depicted in this 14th-century miniature mosaic perhaps made in the Byzantine capital of Constantinople and now in the collection of The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. An intimate depiction of an intimate moment between Mother and Son, the icon stresses her essential role in the Incarnation as the Mother of Jesus. Created for private veneration, it nevertheless recalls the famous tenderness images of the Virgin Mary created for public veneration throughout the Eastern Christian world.

further, asserting, for example, that by remaining a human woman, Mary provided Christ with his human nature. At the same time, it was her virginity that guaranteed his ongoing divinity. It is the latter aspect of Mary’s birth-giving role that caused her — especially from the early fifth century onward — to be described as Theotokos or Birthgiver of God.

Byzantine liturgical texts, including hymns and homilies, express this doctrine repeatedly at key moments in the Daily Office and Divine Liturgy. However, it is noticeable that hymnographers and preachers often choose typological or metaphorical language to teach it to their congregations. A whole range of Old Testament “types,” including Jacob’s ladder (Gn 28:10-17), the

her womb — presiding over the altar in the sanctuary.

But who was the historical Mary, the girl who lived in Nazareth with her betrothed husband, Joseph? As we have already seen, the New Testament, including the epistles of St. Paul and the gospels, tell us very little about this biblical figure.

We know, according to the gospels of Matthew and Luke, that she lived in Nazareth, experienced the Annunciation of the Archangel Gabriel and gave birth to the Messiah, Jesus Christ. Of all the Evangelists, Luke offers the most personal insights about Mary: He says that after the visit to the temple in Jerusalem when Jesus was 12 years old and was found speaking to the teachers there, “his mother treasured all these things in her heart” (Lk 2:51).

about the life of the Virgin Mary. Perhaps, as Ignatius suggested, this was to protect her from “the ruler of this age,” that is, the Roman emperor or his governors in Judea.

It was only in later centuries that Mary’s story began to be elaborated, probably in response to growing veneration of her as a holy figure in her own right and curiosity about her historical life. The Protoevangelium of James, as we saw earlier, offered the first full account of her conception and childhood in the temple of Jerusalem. Several centuries later, probably toward the end of the fifth century or beginning of the sixth, accounts of Mary’s death, or of her “falling asleep,” began to circulate not only in Greek, but also in Syriac and other ancient languages.

Christians believe Jesus shared in our humanity due to Mary, who said “yes” to the Archangel Gabriel and gave birth to the Messiah. The mystery of the Incarnation, and the role played by Mary as Theotokos, is a prominent feature in every church of the Byzantine tradition worldwide. Here, the moment of the archangel’s greeting is caught by a team of Byzantine Greek iconographers, Eutychios and Michael Astrapas, who created the image in 1295 in the Church of the Virgin Peribleptos, “the one who watches over all,” on the shores of Lake Ohrid, northern Macedonia.

burning bush (Ex 3:1-6), the tabernacle (Ex 40:1-7), the temple (1 Kings 6-9), and many others, express in indirect ways the Virgin Mary’s role in the Incarnation. For example, she is the ladder that links heaven and earth; the bush that is not affected by the divine fire (symbolizing Mary’s virginity); and the holy and consecrated space in which God chose to dwell.

Liturgical texts also spell out the theological role of the Theotokos in more discursive ways, but they never lose sight of the mystery that lies at the heart of the Incarnation.

Byzantine Christians are physically able to see Mary’s central role in this mystery depicted in the apses of many churches where she stands or sits — usually with the Christ Child in her arms or contained in

We also glimpse Christ’s mother several times during his life of teaching and ministry, which suggests that she, along with the disciples and some of his siblings, accompanied him on his travels through Judea and Galilee (see, for example, Mt 12:46-50; Mk 3:31-35; Lk 8:19-21).

Mary also appears at the marriage at Cana, according to the Gospel of John, where she tells the servants to obey Christ and to fill six jars of water (2:3-5). And finally, in the same gospel, she stands at the foot of the cross with “the disciple whom [Christ] loved,” probably John himself, and is entrusted to the latter’s care (19:25-27). These glimpses are tantalizingly brief and we have to ask ourselves why the Evangelists provided so few clues

These narratives offer glimpses into the Virgin’s later years, which she spent, depending on different accounts, either in Bethlehem or Jerusalem in a house owned by the Evangelist John. They also describe how Mary was warned of her approaching death by an angel and how the apostles were miraculously transported on clouds to her bedside. Christ appeared at the moment of the Virgin’s death and received her soul, which he passed to the Archangel Michael for safe passage to heaven. The disciples then placed Mary’s body on a bier and took it to a tomb near the Garden of Gethsemane at the foot of the Mount of Olives. According to most accounts, they opened the tomb after three days and found that her body had disappeared.

The iconographer who created these images on the external walls of the convent Church of the Annunciation in northeast Romania in 1537 wanted to make a point. To the left, Moses removes his sandals as he approaches holy ground — the burning bush not consumed by fire, which in Eastern Christianity is a reference to Mary as ever Virgin. The image at the center, with a detail to the right, depicts Mary protecting Constantinople as the Persians besieged it in the year 626. In fact, the fresco depicts the final collapse of Constantinople. The images were created 84 years after the fall of the city to the Ottoman Turks in May 1453 in a remote post of the Orthodox world threatened by the Ottomans. The images remind pilgrims to retreat to Mary and ask for her protection.

In some narratives, the apostles saw the body being carried up to heaven. What happened after that is viewed as a mystery. The Virgin Mary was either pictured in an earthly paradise, along with Abraham and the other saints, or at the right hand of Christ, having experienced — unlike any other human being apart from her Son — an early resurrection.

Another aspect of Mary’s earthly life, which developed especially in monastic circles, was asceticism and dedication to constant prayer.

Fourth-century bishop Athanasius of Alexandria describes the pious qualities of the Virgin Mary in a letter to encourage virgins who had adopted a monastic way of life. This theme is also taken up in several Byzantine “Lives of the Virgin,” which describe her ascetic practices as a child in the temple, in Joseph’s home once she was betrothed to him, and after the death and Resurrection of Christ, when she was living in the care of John. These accounts also suggest that Mary took on a leadership role

among the disciples after Christ’s Ascension. John Geometres’s late 10th-century “Life of the Virgin,” for example, states the Theotokos directed not only the apostles’ spiritual lives, but also told them where to carry out their missions. According to these Byzantine texts, the Virgin Mary was a model of asceticism, not only for monks and nuns, but also for lay Christians who wished to lead more pious lives.

Third and finally, every Eastern Christian will be aware that the

Mother of God acts as their protector and intercessor before Christ. The historical background for these roles lies again in Byzantium, especially in the imperial city of Constantinople. It was during the sixth and seventh centuries that Byzantine Christians turned increasingly to the Virgin Mary as their defender against external enemies and other threats. Famously, at the siege of the Avars and Persians in 626, the Mother of God was seen fighting along the walls of Constantinople. The unexplained — and miraculous — retreat of these enemies was attributed to her intervention. The Byzantines continued to appeal to the Virgin Mary for protection in subsequent sieges, battles and natural disasters throughout the long history of this empire.

Prayers, hymns and narratives that express this dependence continue to be sung in Byzantine Christian, Catholic and Orthodox,

services today. The Akathistos Hymn, which is chanted in its entirety on the evening of the fifth Friday in Lent, represents the bestknown example of such supplication. The service of the Small Paraklesis to the Mother of God, sung during the 15 days that lead up to the feast of the Dormition, is another. A powerful image that conveys the protective power of the Mother of God can be seen today in one of the wall paintings of the new St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church at the site of the World Trade Center in New York. She is depicted as the Virgin Blachernitissa, calmly overlooking the city of New York, with her hands uplifted in prayer and the bust of the Christ Child resting in a medallion on her breast.

In conclusion, the Virgin Mary, Mother of God, remains a significant figure in Byzantine Christian history, theology and spirituality. She is the woman who gave Christ his human

nature and who relates to him and to all the faithful as tender mother and protector. Mary is thus both symbol and human person: She represents the link between God and humanity while remaining a historical woman who lived in firstcentury Palestine.

The multifaceted aspect of the Mother of God in Eastern Christianity is in some ways unique. This religious tradition has always maintained a balance between Mary’s humanity and divine grace. She plays a central role in the mystery of the Incarnation while also acting as protector, intercessor and model for Eastern Christians throughout the world.

Mary B. Cunningham is honorary associate professor of historical theology at the University of Nottingham, England. She has written books and articles on the Mother of God, Byzantine preaching and hymnography, and Orthodox theology.

“It’s easy to trust in God when you are sure of your tomorrow. But when you’re not sure of your today, it’s a great lesson to believe … to trust in God,” says Sister Lucia Murashko, a member of the Order of St. Basil the Great, from her home in Zaporizhzhia, southeastern Ukraine.

“The war has shown us — everyone — even unbelievers, that God is alive and he protects us.”

With the devastating war on Ukraine entering its second year, and no talks of peace in sight, many Ukrainians are reevaluating their priorities. For many, this process includes discovering or rediscovering their belief in a higher power. For those who already believe in some form of providence, it means reassessing the role of faith and religion in their lives.

Historically, the lands and communities that make up Ukraine are diverse. Although Eastern Slavs rooted in the Eastern Christian tradition — Greek Catholic and Orthodox — dominate Ukraine’s populace and culture, evangelical Protestants, Jews and Muslims also have deep roots in the nation and its culture. Once profoundly connected with their traditions and faith, modern Ukrainians of all stripes were severed from their roots by a ruthless Communist government that, in destroying the former order of Imperial Russia, suppressed organized religion in all its forms, Christian and nonChristian.

For more than 70 years, most Ukrainians — except for those in the western portions of the country, which were absorbed into Soviet Ukraine in the World War II era — received an education that praised the ideals of the Soviet state and

Finding God in Times of War

UKRAINIANS ON THE FRONT LINE TURN TO FAITH

Roman Dudko, 34, wounded on the front line in Bakhmut, Ukraine, recovers at a hospital in Kyiv in February.

text by Barb Fraze with photographs by Konstantin Chernichkin

ACCOMPANYING THE CHURCH

The CNEWA Connection

Over the past year, CNEWA has rushed more than $6 million in emergency funds to church-led relief efforts in Ukraine and in neighboring countries receiving those fleeing the missiles. This aid includes emergency food packages to areas under siege, care for displaced pensioners, shelter for people with special needs, spiritual and psychological counseling for those displaced, temporary housing and the supply of medicines and other supplies to medical facilities. Other support has included helping local churches to form the next generation of church leaders — a mission that is all the more important in times of war.

To support this crucial work, call 1-866-322-4441 (Canada) or 1-800-442-6392 (United States) or visit cnewa.org/work/ukraine

advocated the development of a new form of man, one who repudiated religious belief as backward and unpatriotic.

Even after more than 30 years of Ukraine’s independence, the Zaporizhzhia Oblast remains among the more secular regions of Ukraine. Most people declare themselves atheists; some are baptized Orthodox, but do not practice their faith, Sister Lucia says. However, during this past year of war, numerous people have turned to the sisters, asking for help and confiding in them their burdens: the destruction of their homes, the deaths of their friends, the departure of their children.

“We listen to them and then they say, ‘I talk to you and feel more peaceful.’ ”

Sister Lucia says while most Ukrainians go underground when air raid sirens sound, the people in Zaporizhzhia have no way to anticipate a Russian missile attack. While the city, located only 30 miles

from the front, remains in Ukrainian hands, it is surrounded by the Russian military to the south, and missiles arrive before the sirens sound.

“We learn to trust God, because there is no safe place, because you never know whether it will be your house ... or one of the factories.

“There is no way to escape. It is only that God will protect you, and you pray and you continue to work.”

During the first six months of the war, many people fled Zaporizhzhia, although some returned when the front did not advance toward the city. People from surrounding villages also sought refuge there.

The Basilian Sisters live in a monastery dedicated to the Apostles Peter and Paul. They assist at the local Ukrainian Greek Catholic parish, where Divine Liturgy and other prayers are celebrated daily. They provide relief supplies, but also “try to celebrate any signs of life” to encourage the people —

CNEWA and Caritas Ukraine distribute food, hygiene kits, clothing and bedding to people in Chernihiv Oblast. Opposite, children bid their father farewell at a train station in Lviv in January. Below, Basilian Sister Yelysaveta Varnitskasister fits a girl for a new sweater in Preobrazhenka, a village on the front line in southern Ukraine.

even adult parishioners received presents on the feast of St. Nicholas last year.

She calls it a “privilege” that God has allowed her and her sisters to serve the people at this time, recalling how they recently facilitated the wedding of a couple, ages 72 and 69, who had lived together for 52 years. The parish gave the woman a new dress and the man a traditional Ukrainian embroidered shirt; they received their first confession and Communion, and then were married.

Sister Lucia says it was a grace to see their joy: “For us, it is also a source of stronger faith.”

The war has forced Ukrainian churches to identify their priorities, says the Reverend Yuriy Shchurko, dean of the theology and philosophy faculty at Ukrainian Catholic University in Lviv.

“You are with displaced people, wounded people, with mothers and kids; you just surround them with love, solidarity,” he says.

“We understand that we are called to serve society, to bring them love, to heal their wounds, and every denomination does their best.”

The war has also led to a “very strong” cooperation among different churches in providing humanitarian aid, adds the Reverend Roman Fihas, acting director of the university’s Institute of Ecumenical Studies. Churches are helping all those in need who come their way, regardless of religious affiliation.

“There is no way to escape. It is only that God will protect you, and you pray and you continue to work.”

The same collaboration is true within the military chaplaincy, says Jesuit Father Andriy Zelinskyy, chief military chaplain for the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church. However, the government does not permit priests of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church to serve in the military, despite the church declaring its independence from the Moscow Patriarchate last May, he explains. Priests of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, however, do participate in the chaplaincy.

In the current climate, when a soldier needs a chaplain — whether they are on the battlefield or off — jurisdiction or denomination matters little, says Father Zelinskyy. For the

most part, Ukrainians on the front line are not professional soldiers, he underlines, but ordinary citizens — university professors, business leaders and ballet dancers — largely unprepared for the demands of battle. What is important for a soldier is that he can speak with a minister who will listen, he says.

The responsibilities of a military chaplain include “being present to the soldiers, listening to them, praying for them, attending to their hearts, administering sacraments, maintaining their memories,” he says. They also accompany soldiers’ families and minister to those recovering from battle wounds in the hospital.

When someone asks Father Zelinskyy where God is amid the war, he tells them: “God is love, so wherever and whenever you love, you find God. ... When you fight for your loved ones … take care of the wounds of a fellow soldier, that’s where we find him.”

Roman Dudko was living with his family in Kherson, located on the Dnipro River in southern Ukraine, when it fell under Russian occupation within the first week of the invasion. A month later, Mr. Dudko and his family fled the city.

One week after he settled his children safely in Ivano-Frankivsk, western Ukraine, he and his brother enlisted and joined other civiliansturned-soldiers on the front.

On his last day of a three-month rotation in Bakhmut, Donetsk Oblast — which Russian troops were encircling at the time of publication in an attempt to capture the city — Mr. Dudko’s unit endured heavy shelling.

“I only remember my friend in the car. He put tourniquets on me because I couldn’t do it myself due to my blood loss,” he says sitting up in his hospital bed in Kyiv, his right arm in bandages and pinned with metal rods.

Father Yevhen Cherniuk, a military chaplain of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, visits with wounded soldiers at the military hospital in Kyiv, taking time to speak with them, anoint them and administer the sacraments.

Mr. Dudko was transported from Bakhmut to a hospital in Dnipro, then transferred to a second hospital in Zhytomyr and finally to Kyiv, where he continues to recover after multiple surgeries.

The doctors have encouraged him and told him he will be able to walk again, but he struggles with the realization that “in my 30s, I’m an invalid.”

“Every day you face challenges [on the front] that make you reevaluate what is important and what is not,” he says.

“Before the war, I was convinced that a person forges their own destiny,” he says. Today, due to what he considers miraculous

occurrences, Mr. Dudko believes “God does exist and he helps.”

He believes his life was spared on his last day in Bakhmut: Only one piece of shrapnel cut into him despite his protective vest getting shredded to pieces by the wave of explosives. Even in the midst of shelling, he says, he experienced a sense of inner peace and trust, which he continues to experience in his convalescence.

“I would stop panicking and start thinking clearly about what I needed to do next,” he says. During one instance of shelling, his clarity of thought compelled him to run from his unit to save a soldier he knew was stuck in a car a short

distance from the unit. They both escaped to safety.

“I had this intent to save a person and I believe God saved me, too.”

These days, Mr. Dudko says, he has entrusted his entire life to God: “When you let go of the situation and ask God for his help, everything turns out well.”

For many who have endured Russian occupation, simple acts of charity are powerful examples of courageous witness in the face of real danger.

Nadia Makhnyk lived in Beryslav, a district on the right bank of the Dnipro River located across from the Russian-occupied city of Nova

“One of the most difficult things for me as a priest is to find words of hope for our people.”

Kakhovka. The front was just behind her house; in some places, the river is just four yards wide. The Russians took Beryslav in April 2022, but lost it in November.

Initial fighting damaged local infrastructure and, last May, Ms. Makhnyk lost electricity. Cut off, she decided to buy a Russian SIM card for her cell phone to access the internet. During that time, she volunteered at a soup kitchen, run out of a local Greek Catholic parish, Maccabee Martyrs.

The pastor, the Reverend Oleksandr Bilskyy, was outside Beryslav when the invasion began and could not return immediately to the parish. However, he organized

the delivery of donations of basic necessities to the area, as well as supplies for his parishioners to run the soup kitchen.

Ms. Makhnyk volunteered at the soup kitchen with a woman named Viktoriya. On 9 May, which Russians observe as Victory Day, Russian soldiers brought Ukrainian prisoners of war to Beryslav to help clean the area. Viktoriya and others took food to the prisoners and memorized the phone numbers of the prisoners’ relatives, then called the relatives to let them know the men were alive.

“It was very dangerous,” says Ms. Makhnyk.

In July, she and others evacuated Beryslav, joining the millions of other Ukrainians displaced from their homes. They waited five days to leave because of a 500-car lineup; the Russian forces were allowing

only about 10 cars through every three hours. On their 186-mile journey westward, they passed 27 Russian roadblocks. Some people slept in their cars, waiting to get through, she says.

Ms. Makhnyk was touched by the people of one Russian-occupied village who welcomed evacuees and helped them without charge. She was also moved by the charitable acts of local Ukrainian Greek Catholic priests. She currently lives at a shelter in Lviv operated by the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church.

She says Father Bilskyy has since returned to his parish in Beryslav and has been involved in transporting aid to people near the front.

Even in the western Ukrainian city of Lviv — considered the soul of the country and

“You are with displaced people, wounded people, with mothers and kids; you just surround them with love, solidarity.”

The war displaced Yana Astapova from her home in Kharkiv. She found shelter with her mother at Ukrainian Catholic University in Lviv.

largely spared the destruction of the invasion — “the life of our parishes,” says the Reverend Oleksiy Zavada, “has changed because of the war.”

Father Zavada pastors Ascension of Our Lord Greek Catholic Church. His church, along with many others across the country, holds constant prayer vigil, with parishioners signing up to pray in half-hour periods 24 hours a day.

“It seems to me, what is important [is that] ... the church needs to be with people.

“I think one of the most difficult things for me as a priest is to find words of hope for our people,” he continues, adding that one priest told him late last year that he had no words left for funeral homilies.

“It’s difficult to explain the words of the Gospel, when Jesus says, ‘Love your enemies.’ ”

Despite the challenges, churches must persevere in providing insight and wisdom with the language of the Gospel, says Elizabeth H. Prodromou, a visiting scholar at Boston College and expert on the intersection of geopolitics, religion and human rights, especially as it relates to the dominant narratives that she says misrepresent the war.

At an event in Chicago on 23 February to mark the anniversary of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the Orthodox scholar spoke of the two opposing narratives of the war — presented by Russia on the one hand, and the United States and Western nations on the other — which she said objectify Ukraine, take away its agency and suppress its voice.

Churches “need not be captured by those narratives,” she said. Rather, it is their responsibility to acknowledge these narratives, reflect on them and critique them with Gospel language, such as “love, peace, justice, judgment, mercy, forgiveness, repentance,”

and to “redirect … secular narratives that are based on ... win/lose” ways of thinking, she continued.

“Churches need to speak as church, centered … in love, centered in Christ.”

Metropolitan Borys Gudziak of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Archeparchy of Philadelphia, who founded Ukrainian Catholic University and has traveled to Ukraine repeatedly during the first year of the war, believes the experience of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church in the underground during the Soviet era serves as a powerful witness to faithfulness to the Gospel.

The church did not capitulate to the Soviet regime, he said at another event in Chicago marking the anniversary. Instead, it carried into the underground and emerged from it with the tradition of Catholic social teaching: “God-given dignity, solidarity, subsidiarity, the common good.” These principles have penetrated Ukrainian society since the church emerged in 1989, and have served as the guiding principles for Ukrainians during this war and the source of their resilience, he added.

“The light and life of Christ could not be contained [during communism] … and it cannot be contained today.”

The witness of the underground church, which stood up to power, is relevant in the current context: “You can address catastrophe if you do so in the light of Christ,” he said. “It is there that I see hope for peace and a joy that fills the heart of men and women.”

Barb Fraze is a freelance journalist specializing in international affairs and religion. For more than 35 years, she served as the international editor of Catholic News Service. Konstantin Chernichkin in Lviv and Laura Ieraci and Mariya Kokor in Chicago contributed to this report.

The Last Word: Perspectives From the President

by Msgr. Peter I. Vaccari

“Now while he was with them at table, he took the bread and said the blessing; then he broke it and handed it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him … Then they told their story of what had happened on the road and how they recognized him at the breaking of the bread.” (Lk 24:30-31, 35)

It is all about telling our “story.”

The March edition of ONE magazine marks the anniversary of the founding of CNEWA by Pope Pius XI on 11 March 1926. As we celebrate our 97th anniversary on the way toward our centennial, we continue to reflect on our story. Similar to the famous gospel story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus with the crucified and risen Jesus, the mission of CNEWA is about the “road” we travel with Jesus. As with the disciples, we have been chosen, blessed, broken and given to those we serve throughout the worlds of the Eastern churches.

The March issue of ONE is our Lent-Easter edition!

On Wednesday evening, 15 February, on the monthly “Connections With Msgr. Peter” program, I anticipated the season of Lent and its call to more intense prayer, fasting and almsgiving. Lent can be quite challenging. It invites us to take a deep look at our own story and the need for conversion, for a change of heart, a change of direction. Only an openness to change and conversion will bring us to an appreciation for all that God has done for us in the mystery of Jesus’ own Passion, death and Resurrection.

The Emmaus story invites us to discover the traces of God in the experience of brokenness. The disciples recognize Jesus in the broken bread. In the mission of CNEWA, we encounter stories of human brokenness through

natural disasters, religious persecution, corruption, trafficking in human persons, poverty, war, intolerance and harsh sociopolitical and economic conditions.

In a very real sense, our emergency campaigns and our programs and projects may all be viewed as CNEWA’s efforts — through prayer, accurate information and extraordinary generosity — to assist others to glimpse the possibility of hope in their brokenness. It is a hope found, as with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, in the crucified and risen Jesus! Consider three recent emergency campaigns.

• Lebanon: The port blast in Beirut on 4 August 2020 is considered among the largest non-nuclear blasts in human history. Long has CNEWA’s story involved Lebanon, and that story did not change on that day. CNEWA’s Beirut team sprang into action and, thanks to the generosity of our donors, CNEWA has distributed more than $3 million in funds toward hospitals, medical centers, food distribution and psychosocial counseling for a traumatized population. Additional grants of almost $2 million assisted more hospitals and 14 Catholic schools.

• Ukraine: CNEWA has worked throughout Ukraine for many years. Cardinal Timothy M. Dolan, chair of CNEWA’s board of trustees, led a small CNEWA delegation in May 2022 to Poland, Slovakia and Ukraine as a sign of solidarity. CNEWA has distributed $5.8 million in aid through our partners on the ground to both Ukrainian refugees, who fled into neighboring countries, and to those who are displaced and have remained in Ukraine.

• Earthquakes in Syria and Turkey: “And it was in Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians” (Acts 11:26). Ancient Antioch, present-day Antakya, was destroyed in the earthquake. Through our emergency management team in Beirut, CNEWA immediately contacted partners in Syria. The U.S. Treasury’s Office of Foreign Assets Control authorized a period of 180 days for humanitarian aid to enter Syria without being in violation of the sanctions imposed on the country. Together with our partners in Lebanon and in Syria, CNEWA has begun to distribute clean water, blankets, food, milk, diapers, medication, mattresses and pillows.

• I traveled with a delegation from our Beirut team into Syria before Christmas. I met some of our trusted partners through whom we brought necessary humanitarian relief into Syria before the quakes.

Now, they are doubling their efforts to reach those who have survived the quakes and 12 years of war.

These are just some examples of where CNEWA donors have responded so generously to our humanitarian emergency appeals. Thank you!

In the stories covered in this edition of ONE, you will read further about how CNEWA has accompanied the church in Lebanon. The article that identifies Lebanon’s recent collapse on multiple levels also explores the church’s response to this collapse and CNEWA’s own role.

In the article from Amman, Jordan, you will read the important work being done with migrant workers by the Teresians on behalf of persons who have been victims of human trafficking.

The Letter From Eritrea offers a look back on one Catholic school, now a state school after the government nationalized religious schools, hospitals and other social service institutions.

The article on Ukraine explores the impact of the ongoing war on the life of the various churches, working to assist people in need. It is important to remember that where CNEWA works, we always remain open to all, in dialogue with people of good will who are people of faith or with no faith. Our goal is never to proselytize. It is to seek ways to cultivate cultures of encounter for the good of the local society.

And finally, once again, as I have written here on other occasions, in every place we work we encounter the particular imprint of Marian devotion proper to each culture. In this edition, we hear of Mary’s role as nurturer, defender and protector in the Christian East.

Yes, it is all about telling the story and inviting others to recognize the crucified and risen Jesus, often in a moment of brokenness. But has that not been God’s plan with us? Give God your permission to enter into your brokenness and experience God’s healing power!

I thank you for your ongoing interest and support, in both prayer and with your donations. Thank you!

Peter I. Vaccari President, CNEWA