His youngsters already tease him a bit. "We know where the largest Salesian oratory in the world shall be. It will be the one you found and it will include the Donbas, Zaporizhzhia, and Dnipro," they say. Bishop Ryabukha smiles. And as a Son of Don Bosco, he knows well that there is indeed some truth in the words of the young people of Kyiv whom he will soon have to leave. But he is equally aware that as the new Greek Catholic auxiliary bishop of Donetsk - although his new diocese reaches as far as the nuclear power plant disputed between Russians and Ukrainians - he will not be able – for now - to set foot in any part of the regions over which his new Church insists they be and meet the people living in the territories occupied by Moscow's army. Impossible to enter them, let alone if one is a Catholic bishop, like Fr. Ryabukha.
"I am aware of it, unfortunately," says the 42-year-old priest originally from Lviv. "But thanks to the priests who continue to stay in the Kremlin-controlled zones, I’ve already wanted to send my greetings to everyone. And some of the faithful responded, ‘I don't know this new bishop, but I already like him.’" It is hard not to be infected by the optimism, steadfast in the Gospel, of Bishop Ryabukha who will be a pastor in one of the most difficult corners of Ukraine. The episcopal ordination will be held at the Cathedral of the Resurrection in Kyiv on Dec. 22 when the Immaculate Conception is celebrated in the East. A ministry that begins in the sign of the Virgin: almost natural for a Salesian.
"I cannot see all my people. But I carry them in my heart and support them with prayer. And I will also try to stand by them via means of communication," he says. "The war did not start on February 24, but in 2014. That is why the victory I hope for is that of peace. Sure that, as Christ reminds us, death never has the last word and human injustice is destined to disappear."
However, now is the time for suffering. "The mourning for the death of relatives and friends, the destruction that the country suffers, and the drama of refugees forced to leave their homes are accompanied by spiritual pains that one experiences when one touches evil with one's own hand. It will take patience before all these wounds are healed, but I am persuaded that Providence will help us."
To his new clergy, or at least the priests who can move, the Salesian has just preached spiritual exercises. "Every time I am surprised by their closeness to the communities, even putting their lives on the line. However, as someone left in the areas where there is fighting told me, they are the 'sign that God has not abandoned us.' It is our task to bring the light of the Risen One and hope where everything collapses. So I say we need priests who can look forward and even dream."
He is already familiar with the East of the country, Bishop Ryabukha, despite being born in the West. "And I have always carried it in my heart," he confides. He lived for two years in Dnipro in the Salesian house; he met with young people several times; he organized the "camps for the boys at war" in Donetsk and Lugansk. As bishop, he will live in Zaporizhzhia, in the rectory of a parish he calls "temporary headquarters." "I am moved by the sense of solidarity that has sprouted during the conflict. Everyone is ready to lend a hand: for example, by taking in displaced people or sharing what little they have. This shows how fraternity is stronger than the ordeal Ukraine is facing."
Then he turns his mind to Masses in the basements of apartment buildings at the beginning of the Russian invasion or to celebrations in apartments. "The most difficult period has been overcome. There is no discouragement because people believe in good. But the terror, the massacres, the killings remain. That is why it is important not to keep silent about the pain. Scripture teaches us that the truth sets us free."
That is why, after a pause, he concludes, "As bombs fall on our cities, it is difficult to speak of reconciliation. There will come a time, however, when we can re-cross each other's borders. And what we will have to rebuild will not only be the walls, but above all the human dignity that totalitarian regimes have always trampled and exploited. All of us are 'the hands of God': woe to those who force us to use them to annihilate our brothers or neighbors."
