By Steve Richards Next Saturday, the 14th, there will be a screening of Back to Bucha at a location that holds unexpected significance for me—St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Dedham, Massachusetts. This event also marks a send-off for my fourth journey to Ukraine, just two days later, as part of the Beyond Bucha Production Tour. The tour will take me from Warsaw to Kyiv, Bucha, Kharkiv, Dnipro, Kherson, Odesa, and Vinnytsia, with my return scheduled for late October. In preparation for the event, Rev. Melanie McCarley, rector of St. Paul's, invited me to deliver a lay sermon to the congregation this morning. Considering the church's strong support for Ukraine, I found it fitting to draw a parallel between the Anglican experience during the American Revolution—when this very church played a significant role—and the role of the Orthodox Church in Ukraine's current fight for independence. My message went something like this: Dedham and my Loyalist roots My path to standing before you today has been a long one. I moved to Wellesley in the late 1980s, earned my MBA from Babson in 1990, and built a software company in Weston during the ’90s. Dedham was just a name I saw on a Route 128 road sign—until September 2020, when my daughter and I made a trip to Bob’s Discount Furniture to help furnish her new apartment, part of the usual Labor Day shuffle as students moved in and out of new/old apartments all over Boston. That trip reminded me of a story my Aunt Mary Lou had once shared about a graveyard in Dedham where many of our ancestors were buried. So, I called her on the way, and she directed me to the cemetery and the names to search for. She told me to look for our ancestors, Ebenezer (1719–1799) and Thankful (1720–1796) Richards. After some searching, we found their graves, along with many other Richards family members. Nearby, we even found “Richards Street.” Suddenly, Dedham felt like home. I then realized that the church beside the cemetery was Episcopalian—my adopted denomination—making the connection even deeper. (By the way, as a child I was raised in the Nazarene Church, a particularly fundamentalist branch of Evangelicalism, though it’s been quite some time since I’ve been back.) It turns out that my great, great, great, (twenty or so greats) Grandfather Edward Richards, arrived in New Bedford in 1631 and settled in Dedham by 1632. I recently discovered that William Clark, the rector of St. Paul’s during the American Revolution, had married my distant cousin, Mary Richards—so, in a way, I’m related to this church by marriage. I can only imagine what her life must have been like: married to a Church of England priest, surrounded by Sons of Liberty in Congregationalist New England during the height of the Revolution. And to add to the challenge, William Clark was deaf! It was quite a surprise to learn that I have Loyalist roots. But then again it says on Ebenezer’s gravestone that he: Performed the office of Deacon in the first Church of Dedham for 27 years. The First Church of Dedham was Congregationalist at the time. Clark’s detailed journals have made him a key figure for historians studying this era. These journals, preserved at the New England Historic Genealogical Society in Boston, provide rich insights into the time. In 1770, the same year he married Mary, Clark expressed disdain for the republican ideals of Dedham’s Congregationalists, viewing their ideas of liberty as dangerous. He even requested a transfer to Maine or Nova Scotia, but the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel —a branch of the Church of England that sponsored missionary work in the colonies—denied his request. Interestingly, St. Paul’s functioned as a kind of mission, and the Society paid £20 of his £50 annual salary. My own Anglican journey began in 2011 when I visited All Souls Episcopal Church in Miami Beach. It was the closest Protestant church to my new home, just a few blocks from the Fontainebleau Hotel. Before long, I found myself as a guest at the Berkeley Divinity School, the Episcopal seminary at Yale, from 2013 to 2016. I still hope to graduate someday. William Clark’s conversion to Anglicanism came after he served as an interim preacher at various Congregational churches around Boston. After announcing his decision to join the Church of England, he traveled to England for ordination, then returned to minister to congregations in Dedham and Stoughton, Massachusetts. His loyalty to the crown placed him in direct conflict with the revolutionary fervor in New England, ultimately leading to his arrest and exile. Clark’s story of religious division, loyalty, and revolution reflects the nuanced realities of the ongoing schism within the Orthodox Church in Ukraine today. Possible Lessons for Ukraine from Revolutionary America’s Experience Christianity in Ukraine traces back to 988 AD, when Prince Volodymyr the Great (Volodymyr Sviatoslavych) baptized the entire Kievan Rus' kingdom into the Eastern Church, which was centered in Constantinople. In 1054, the Great Schism split the Christian world, dividing it into the Eastern Orthodox Church and the Roman Catholic Church. For centuries, Orthodoxy was the dominant faith in Ukraine, coexisting alongside smaller communities of Greek Catholics, Jews, Protestants, and others. For much of Ukraine’s history, the Orthodox Church was governed by Moscow. However, the war has upended this structure. Today, Moscow finds itself estranged from much of the Orthodox world, and the Ukrainian church has been recognized by Constantinople as an independent entity. Still, convincing Orthodox Ukrainians to fully embrace this new church isn’t automatic—many remain faithful to the Moscow Patriarchate. Which is not to say they are unpatriotic Ukrainians. It's a complex situation, much like it must have been for Anglicans in 1776. This mirrors the schism between the Church of England and the emerging American Episcopal Church following the American Revolution. At the time, Anglican priests were required to swear allegiance to the English crown. It wasn’t until 1789 that the Episcopal Church in America formally separated and became its own independent entity, joining the worldwide Anglican Communion—a relationship that continues to this day. The way American Congregationalists treated the Church of England during the Revolution bears striking similarities to the schism within the Ukrainian Orthodox Church today. However, despite the turmoil in Ukraine, the violence against priests and churches is relatively mild compared to what Anglican clergy and their congregations endured during the American Revolution. For instance, an ankle bracelet on a priest in comfortable quarters in Ukraine hardly compares to the brutal conditions of the 18th century. In New England, Anglican churches were destroyed or repurposed as storehouses, and priests fled from angry mobs. Half of them left the country, many never to return. These clergy saw themselves as martyrs, much like Moscow-oriented priests in Ukraine likely do today. Take William Clark, for example. In April 1776, the Commonwealth’s General Court ordered his arrest as a Tory, though he wasn’t captured at the time. By March 1777, he chose to stop preaching rather than remove prayers for the king from his services. On May 19 of that year, the Dedham Board of Selectmen charged him with treason. Two days later, a mob confronted him, though he managed to escape again. The mob was angered because Clark had written a letter of recommendation for a loyalist they had previously expelled after confiscating his farming implements and other possessions. On June 5, 1777, Clark was arrested and transported to Boston for a military tribunal. When his carriage broke down, he was forced to walk several miles to continue the journey. He was denied legal counsel and was not informed of the evidence against him. Though nearly acquitted, his refusal to pledge allegiance to the Commonwealth led to his imprisonment on a ship for ten weeks, which severely impacted on his health. Released on a £500 bond, he was confined within one mile of his home. In June 1778, he secured a pass to leave for London and couldn’t return to Massachusetts until 1792. I can only imagine the intense emotions stirred when a priest prays for the enemy. It’s remarkable that there hasn’t been more violence against the Moscow-oriented church and its clergy in Ukraine. Ukraine’s tolerant institutions deserve credit for navigating this complex societal and legal challenge surrounding the transformation of the Orthodox Church. With over 70% of Ukrainian churchgoers attending Orthodox services, whose liturgies have remained largely unchanged for more than 1,000 years, it’s vital that leaders approach this situation with great care. Meanwhile, American Christians, especially Christian Nationalists, have been misled by Russian disinformation and figures like Tucker Carlson, with false claims such as “Ukraine persecutes Christians.” It’s vital that authorities only arrest “spy priests” who are aiding the enemy, not the faithful. This is likely what Pope Francis is emphasizing—giving Ukraine’s enemies as little reason as possible to distort the truth while allowing people to worship freely. Anglican priests in the 18th century faced ordeals similar to the challenges pro-Moscow Orthodox clergy face today. The schism is not only about political allegiance but also deeply held religious beliefs. Priests take oaths during their ordination, and now, like the American Anglican clergy 250 years before them, Orthodox priests in Ukraine are torn between loyalty to their faith and adapting to a rapidly changing cultural and political landscape. Still, for clergy in Ukraine today, their loyalties must be unambiguously aligned with their nation. There is no room for Moscow sympathies in Ukrainian churches during war times—change is required. Closing with a Woman’s Role in War and Faith It’s striking how often women like my cousin, Mary Richards, are overlooked in histories of religious and political conflicts. Back to Bucha, highlights the resilience of women in Ukraine who returned after initially fleeing, determined to raise their children in their own homes in their own country. Their stories of home, faith, and courage in the midst of war echo the stories of our ancestors found in St. Paul’s graveyard from yesteryear. As I get ready to return to Ukraine to work on the third film in the series, Beyond Bucha – Finding the Spirit in Ukraine from the Churches to the Front, I frequently get asked two questions: "Why did you start doing this?" and "Aren't you scared?" My answer is: “not much”. Recent data shows that the danger in Ukraine, away from the front lines, is similar to what we face in the U.S. from gun violence. They fear missiles, we fear guns. The recent missile strike in Lviv, which killed a young family, is a sobering reminder of the violence that exists there, as is similarly exhibited in the recent shooting in Georgia. Fortunately for citizens of both countries is that the chances are low in both. I also remind myself daily of the words from Matthew 6:25-34, reminding us not to worry, for each day has enough trouble of its own. 25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life[a]?
28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. For the other question you’ll need to come for the Q&A after the film.
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