Wednesday, 14 March 2018

First Ukrainian Church in London

“How I Found the Church at Saffron Hill”

translated from “Як я знайшов церкву на Сафрон Гіл?,” 
in Наша Церква, vol. 15, no. 2 [79] (April–June 1967), p. 14–17.

Father Josaphat Jean, London 1947
I have been in England several times in my life. I was there before the First World War, in 1912, but did not meet with Ukrainians then. In the winter of 1921, I was again in London with Dr. Kost Levytsky to lobby for the Ukrainian question at the British Parliament. After that, I was in England in 1922, 1923, and 1925. 

I know that, in 1922, the Ukrainian Diplomatic Mission, headed by Dr. Stefan Vytvytsky, was in London. Ivan Petrushevych also lived there. From 1925–1939 travelled around England Yakiv Makohin, who considered himself a descendant of Prince Rozumovsky. He established the Ukrainian Bureau in London where Drs. Kisylevsky, Biberovych, and Ivan Petrushevych worked.

Digitaries of our Church also visited Britain: Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky, Bishop Nykolai Charnetsky, Father Rector Yosyf Slipyi, our present Major-Archbishop and Cardinal. In the final years before the Second World War, Mitred-Archpriest Jacques Perridon from France and Belgian Redemptorists came to minister.

It must be said, however, that Ukrainian immigration to Great Britain really began during the Second World War. In 1944, Ukrainian-Canadian soldiers in London established the Ukrainian Club at Sussex Gardens, Paddington. Beginning in October 1945, a portion of the Canadian Forces started to return home, and their place was taken by Ukrainian soldiers in General Anders’ Polish Corps. Among these were Greek-Catholic chaplains Antin Hodys, Stefan Koliatkivsky, and Ivan Dumych. Afterwards, Rev. V. Pashkivsky joined them, for a sort time.

Having received a mandate from Bishop Ivan Buchko, whom the Apostolic See had named Apostolic Visitor for all Ukrainian Greek-Catholics in Western Europe, with the agreement of my Basilian superiors, I officially arrived in England on 1 March 1947. I immediately went to Westminster and requested an audience with Cardinal Bernard Griffon. The head of the Catholic Church in England received me very courteously, and we spoke at length about how to provide pastoral care for Ukrainian Catholics. I asked the Cardinal if we could acquire a small church for our religious needs, and well remember his response: “My own Catholics do not have enough churches for their own needs, since they were subject to much misfortune during the War. Some of our churches were damaged and, although some have been restored, there are still not enough. But I know that there are many un-renovated Protestant churches for sale. Look for one and, when you find it, let me know and I will help with the purchase.”

I then, immediately broached a second matter with the Cardinal, this time a personal one. Cardinal Griffon was a very merciful person. He picked up the telephone receiver and, for a long time, spoke with the superior of the Oratorian Fathers (London Oratory), and arranged the matter then and there. For a time, I could stay at the Oratory.

fragment of Jean to Griffon
The superior received me very courteously and gave me a comfortable room. I felt as if I was one of my own Basilian monasteries. I celebrated the Divine Liturgy, every morning, in the magnificent church, sometimes even using the High Altar. I partook of the common table together with the Oratorian Fathers. I especially loved to celebrate the Divine Liturgy in the marble chapel of St. Wilfred, who was the principal patron of the founder of the London Oratory, the Servant of God, Father Faber (1814–1863).

For three weeks, I looked all over London for a church. I scoured the papers, but found nothing. In Paddington there was a ruined Protestant church but the architect thought that it would be difficult to repair it. Then, from 28 March, I began a novena in honour of the Servant of God, Father Faber, the founder and first superior of the London Oratory. Each day, I celebrated the Divine Liturgy and prayed ardently in for the intention of finding a church. I remember that 4 April 1947 was Latin (Gregorian) Good Friday, and I was not allowed to celebrate Divine Liturgy in Church. Then I went to Father Faber’s room where there was a small altar. That year was the hundredth anniversary of the Faber’s conversion from Protestantism to the Catholic Church. In a state of great peace, I celebrated the Divine Liturgy and was renewed with interior strength and hope. 

Saffron Hill church
The next day, Saturday, I finished my novena and set out to continue my search for a church. This time I chose the Holborn area. Emerging from the underground,  I stopped at the oldest church in London at Ely Place, Saint Ethelreda (1252 AD) and prayed there for a long time to find a church for Ukrainians. When I was returning to Farringdon underground station I saw a stone church, at the bottom of a dead-end street, that looked unused. Entering the lower area via stairs, I knocked at the side door. A woman came out; it was Mrs Dider, the wife of the local alderman. Seeing that I was a priest, she kindly invited me into the house, and it was there that I first learned about the church. It was a Catholic Church that, for the past 50 years, had been used as a school and had been damaged a little, in one place, by a bomb. Alderman Dider had received funds from the city to fix the roof and, for this, Cardinal Griffon allowed him to live in one part of the school. “Our neighbour, said Mrs Dider, has a door and window factory. He wants to buy this school so that he can expand his business and is offering the cardinal £5,000. I believe that this building is worth that amount. 

After examining the school, which had once been a church, I virtually flew to Westminster. The cardinal promised to reserve this building for the Ukrainians in London, with the proviso that Westminster Diocese could buy it back in the event that the Ukrainians no longer needed it.

And thus, with God’s help and the prayers of the Father Faber, Ukrainians received their first religious base which would soon helped to invigorate the life of our Church. For 20 years, in modest, dead-end Saffron Hill, God abided with the Ukrainian exiles and they have have reamined with Him and have been fulfilled. I hear that Divine Providence will shortly lead you to a new temple, your first cathedral [1967]. May God bless you! In your new church also remember me, just as I remember my chosen Ukrainian people, each day, for which I gave my whole heart. 

Note: Father Jean's reminiscences were always somewhat romanticised and inexact in chronology, as primary correspondence of the period invariably demonstrates. Letters from Jean to Griffon and diocesan officials reveal that Jean had proposed several churches, all of which were deemed unsuitable, for various reasons. He discovered the Saffron Hill property on Good Friday of the following year, 26 March 1948, long after he had departed from the Oratory and was living at the Ukrainian Bureau in Sussex Gardens.

Friday, 3 November 2017

Andrey Sheptytsky's Sacred Walking Stick

As I (unfortunately) near the end of my current research project, my friend and colleague Gloria Romaniuk, Archivist of the Ukrainian Catholic Archeparchy of Winnipeg, sent me a photo, for which I had been searching for a long time. It came from a collection belonging to the late Bishop Michael Hrynchyshyn, CSsR, longtime postulator of the cause of beatification of Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky.  He received the photo from Dr. Pavlo Senytsia, alumnus of the Ukrainian Greek-Catholic Theological Academy in Lviv, and editor of a multi-volume collection of articles regarding that institution. The second and third volume of this work, entitled "Світильник Істини" (Beacon of Truth) contains a partial reconstruction of the story of this famous cane. I have used these and other sources in my work on Sheptytsky, which includes articles regarding his apprenticeship of two priests, each of which, at one time, he looked upon as his successor. Each one of them was to receive this cane as a symbolic gift, in dramatic and perilous circumstances of the First and later of the Second World War.

Who did Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky look upon as his successor? Above all, he was looking for a someone who understood and was dedicated to his principal cause: promoting the union of the Orthodox Churches with Rome or, as he referred to it, “la Cause de l’Union.” During his long term as Metropolitan of Lviv-Halych, he considered several possibilities, among which was his own brother, Hieromonk Klymenti. However, above all others, two members of his clergy stood out for their moral and intellectual gifts, each of whom, at one time, the Metropolitan looked upon as a successor. Both men bore the same Christian name, Yosyf (Joseph). Both were chosen by Kyr Andrey to educate and form his clergy, as rector of his Major Seminary. Both were gifted academic theologians that had studied in Innsbruck and Vienna (and Rome). These men were Yosyf Botsian (1879–1926) and Yosyf Slipyi (1892–1984).

Father Botsian was the first to receive the cane, during the First World War, when he was accompanying Metropolitan Andrey to Kyiv. Sheptytsky had been arrested by Russian Imperial authorities, when they invaded Austrian Galicia and captured Lemberg (Lviv), in September 1914. He was deported to Kyiv and destined to spend the rest of the war in Russian confinement, at one point in a prison monastery for religious dissidents. The Tsarist authorities allowed three ecclesiastics to accompany him on the first part of his journey. These were Father Yosyf Botsian, the seminary rector, Father Dmytro Yaremko (1879–1915), the vice-rector, and Brother Yosyf Grodsky, the Metropolitan’s valet. They arrived in Kyiv and were confined at the city’s Hotel Continental.

In 1908, Kyr Sheptytsky had received special powers from Pope Pius X, confirming him as administrator of all Uniate eparchies that had been uncanonically suppressed by the Russian State, from 1772 to 1875. Among these powers was the right to ordain bishops for these dormant sees. After arriving in Kyiv, He spent several days in intense reflection and prayer. Fearing for the survival of the Greek-Catholic Church, Sheptytsky decided to make use of the special powers to ordain Botsian and Yaremko to the episcopacy. By virtue of the same faculties, he assigned them the suppressed bishoprics of Lutsk and Ostrih.

On 9/22 September 1914, Metropolitan Andrey told Yosyf Botsian to prepare himself to receive episcopal ordination the following day. The ordination took place in secret, on 10/23 September 1914, at the Hotel Continental. Kyr Andrey did not have all of proper vestments and sacred vessels, Thus, instead of the episcopal crozier, he presented Botsian with his walking staff, upon which he carved the following: “Д. І. Сеп. Р.Б. ≠ЦДІ А.Ш. Й.Б” (On 10 day of September in the Year of the Lord 1914 Andrey Sheptytsky to Yosyf Botsian).” The newly consecrated bishops and Grodsky were permitted to return to Lviv, whereas Sheptytsky was deported to Nizhni Novgorod and thence to Kursk, Suzdal, and Jaroslavl, deep within European Russia. Kyr Andrey had the dubious fame of being the only Catholic bishop imprisoned during the First World War. While Petrograd claimed that this was necessary, due to evidence of political intrigue found during a search of the latter's papers, documents from Russian archives show that the decision to eliminate the Uniate leader was taken before the Tsar's armies invaded Austria-Hungary.

Botsian and Yaremko were deported to Siberia the following year. Yaremko did not survive his Siberian confinement, whereas Bostian’s health was ruined by it. Forced by illness to resign as rector in 1919, Botsian was never permitted to take possession of his eparchy. The Second Polish Republic, which had occupied Volyn and its capital Lutsk, imposed an invisible barrier (known as the Sokal Border) prohibiting Greek-Catholics from ministering east of the Lviv-Halych Metropolia. Shortly before Kyr Botsian's untimely death, Father Slipyi, who had been made rector in 1925, invited him to move to the Lviv Seminary, while quarters at the canons’ residence near Saint George’s Archcathedral were being prepared. On 21 November 1926, Slipyi administered the Sacrament of Holy Anointing to Botsian, whom he discovered lifeless, sitting in a chair in the seminary corridor. The following day, Slipyi preached a farewell sermon. The the funeral, which was the largest that Lviv had witnessed in many years. Writing to the Nuncio tweek weeks later, Slipyi commented: “We all regret the death of Bishop Botsian, because it is a great loss for our Church and a weakening of its situation.”

In 1939, Yosyf Slipyi began his own episcopal ministry as a clandestine bishop. Like Botsian, his nomination remained secret for just a little over two years and did not appear in any official church publication. After sending a personal courier to Rome, Metropolitan Andrey received word indicating that that Pope Pius XII had acceded to his request for a successor. In a letter, written in code, Cardinal Eugène Tisserant told the Metropolitan: “you may consider Your beloved disciple to be Your coadjutor and successor. You may proceed to make him such with the necessary function.” In other words, he could go ahead with the episcopal consecration. Describing the ceremony, Slipyi later wrote to a friend in Switzerland:

In place of a bishop’s crozier I received the Metropolitan’s wooden walking staff which, already once in Kyiv, he had given to Bishop Yosyf Botsian, of blessed memory, as a shepherds crozier, and also the same episcopal ring and the same hieratikon [that he had give Botsian]. These items had been rescued, in a very mysterious way, before the Bolsheviks destroyed the Major Seminary. In this, I specifically perceived the hand of Divine Providence.

Metropolitan Andrey intended this deliberate gesture to contain various layers of meaning: it symbolized that Slipyi was following in Botsian’s footsteps as Sheptytsky’s chosen successor; it also signified that, as Botsian had been consecrated secretly in emergency circumstances, so too Slipyi was being called to exercise his episcopal ministry in hardship and peril. This symbolic act was a clear indication that the “torch” had (literally) been passed from Botsian to Slipyi.

In a letter to Pope Benedixt XV in 1917, Sheptytsky had himself observed that it was that very Hand of Divine Providence which had freed him and Bostian from Siberia and brought down the mighty colossus, which had held the Uniate Churches captive for centuries. However, Providence also decreed that Slipyi was destined to share in many aspects of his predecessors’ fates. After having served 8 years in prison, he was exiled to Yenissey and Krasnoyarsk in Siberia where, almost forty years before, Bishop Botsian had been held. Following eighteen years in the Gulag, upon his elevation to the sacra porpora in 1965, Cardinal Yosyf Slipyi paid tribute to the earlier Father Yosyf who, but by the same mysterious Providence, might have taken his place as Metropolitan Andrey’s successor. 

Sunday, 27 August 2017

The Coat of Arms of Kyr Andriy (Rabiy)

A Revolution of Quality

            The coat-of-arms of Bishop-elect Andriy Rabiy, by heraldic artist and draftsman Matthew G. Alderman, represents a “revolution of quality,” in the world of Ukrainian ecclesiastical heraldic design. After years of waiting for such an opportunity, it is my pleasure to present this magnificent example, in the creation of which I had the honour to act in a small advisory role.

[The historical portion of this article will be added subsequently]

Arms of Andriy Rabiy

            The arms of Kyr Andriy (Rabiy), newly-elected Auxiliary bishop of the Ukrainian Archeparchy of Philadelphia, represents one of the most refined examples of contemporary Ukrainian ecclesiastical heraldry, and this for three reasons: because it was created by a professional heraldic artist; because it is faithful to the laws of ecclesiastical heraldry; and because of its simplicity. 

            Coats of arms consist of two components: a shield and its external ornaments. The symbols (charges and ordinaries) upon the shield represent the identity of the person who bears the arms, while the external ornaments denote their rank and position. Each arms is described in a heraldic language; an archaic form of English containing Norman-French terminology. In that language, Rabiy’s arms are to be officially described as follows:

Or, in base three hillocks vert, from the central hillock a cross couped azure of three bars, the central bar longer than the upper and lower bars; on a chief enarched of the third, three mullets of five points argent in arc. The whole placed on a mantle purpure, tasselled and corded or, lined argent, ensigned with a Greek mitre, all set over an Eastern crozier and processional cross in saltire.

            In heraldry, the two metalic tones of gold and silver are equivalent to the colours yellow and white. They are described as “or” and “argent.” Other colours are similarly described with archaic terms: green=vert, blue=azure, purple=purpure. A hillock is a small hill; “couped” means that the cross’s arms do not extend to the edge; mullets are stars with straight edges. “Saltire” means the episcopal cross and crozier are arranged in an “x” shape.

            The internal elements (charges and ordinaries) of a new coat of arms can be chosen with a certain degree of freedom, provided they conform to heraldic principles. The external ornaments, however, are determined by heraldic law. A good heraldic artist will select (or help the bearer of the arms select), arrange, and depict elements and colours of the arms tastefully. The internal elements of these arms were carefully selected by Bishop-elect Andriy himself, after a period of reflection and prayer. When doing so, he wisely chose to follow the rule of noble simplicity.

            The “charges” and “ordinaries” on the shield symbolize various aspects of Andriy Rabiy’s life and mission, which began in Ukraine and continue in the United States of America. The upper heraldic “field” (background/zone) is blue and contains three white stars arranged in an arch. These symbols come from the arms and flag of the United States of America and also represent the Archeparchy of Philadelphia, where he serves. The curve of the blue field can be said to recall the curve of the heavens and the protective mantle of the Mother of God.

The lower field is yellow and contains a blue three-barred cross mounted on green hills. Blue and yellow are the colours of Ukraine and a cross with three vertical bars is the symbol of the Ukrainian Greek-Catholic Church. The first hill recalls Mount Sinai, where Moses received The Law. The second— Golgotha, where Christ became the New Law in fulfilling the Old Covenant. The third symbolizes two hills in the city of Lviv, Kyr Andriy’s birthplace: the first is the hill on over which the city’s namesake, Prince Lev, built the High Castle (a symbol of the city); and the second, the hill on which Saint George’s Archcathedral stands, where Rabiy served as a young man, and where he will be ordained a bishop.

The form of the shield was chosen to best depict the internal elements, while drawing on a number of typical late medieval/ Renaissance Central European examples.

            The external ornaments of the arms are the episcopal mantle, an Eastern crozier with two serpents entwined around the Cross (recalling Moses’ healing staff), and the processional cross carried before the bishop (In heraldry, only an archbishop has a double bar on this cross). While the internal elements are characterized by the simplicity of their number, colour, and arrangement, the externals are designed to reflect the dignity and solemnity of the episcopal office.

            As an additional decoration, the heraldist trimmed the mantle with a yellow and blue band containing wheat and grapes, symbolizing the priesthood and the Eucharist. The mantle (mandyas) is ornamentally tied with chords to reveal the shield.

            The Greek (Byzantine) mitre is ornamented like a crown with precious stones. This symbolizes the bishop’s authority, while reminding us of the crowns which the just shall received from Christ. Crowns are important in Byzantine sacramental theology and are used for the Mystery of Holy Matrimony (also known as Crowning).

            Episcopal mottos are not mandatory but are very common. Kyr Andriy chose a portion of a verse from the Holy Scriptures that summarizes his high-priestly calling and also alludes to his studies in Church Law. Psalm 118 (119) verse 77 is a prayer for God’s mercy upon those who follow His Law: “Show me your compassion that I may live, for your law is my delight.” (In the original Church Slavonic: “Да прїидутъ мнѣ щедрѡты твоѧ, и живъ бyду, іакw законъ твoй поучeнїє моє єсть.”

to be continued... 

Thursday, 16 March 2017

Sheptytsky on the February Revolution

Metrpopolitan Andrey Sheptytsky to Pope Benedict XV

In Pace!    
Jaroslavl le 16 mars 1917

Très Saint Père!

Benedictus Deus Israël, quia visitavit plebem Suam!  L’ancien regime toujours persecuteur appui et soutien du schisme a croulé, comme foudrozé par la main du Tout-Puissant, changement providentiel, miraculeux, "mutatio dexterae Altissimi"— une parole de Dieu dans l’histoire de ce bas monde.  La liberté de tous les cultes et de toutes les propagandes promise par le gouvernement semble assurée pour de longues années.  La “porte est donc largement ouverte,” il s'agit de ramener au bercail de l’Église catholique le plus grand nombre d’âmes, peut être l’Eglise russe tout entière— ce qui du reste ne semble pas possible, sans l’intervention de Dieu— humanement parlant.  [...] 

26 Avril 1917 Petersbourg

Cette lettre ecrite a Jaroslawl, avant ma liberté attendait inachevée une occasione de Vous être envoyée Très St. Père.  Le nouveau gouvernement m’a rendu la liberté le 25 mars. On m'a permis de venir à Petersbourg.  Arrivé ici le 31 mars je suis tombé gravement malade. […]

Dès aujourd'hui, avant que les ennemis de l'Eglise, les gens de l’ancien régime réattrappe quelque influence il faut obtenir l'abrogation de toutes les lois contraires à la liberté de l’Eglise— les ordonances de ministère sont sensées d'être abrogées. [...]

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Yosyf Slipyi: Metropolitan Sheptytsky's Successor

Among other significant historical commemorations, the year 2017 marks the 125th anniversary of the birth of Yosyf Slipyi: priest, scholar, rector, bishop, metropolitan, cardinal-in-pectore and, following 18-years in the Soviet Gulag, major-archbishop, cardinal, and finally acclaimed patriarch of a Church that had spread across five continents of the globe. It also marks the centenary of his priestly ordination at the hands of his mentor, Metropolitan Andrey Count Sheptytsky.

As this year began, I happened to be working on an article about Slipyi but not out of an interest for him, per se. My interest in him, and for the purpose of which I was given access to still-classified files, is as a member of  Sheptytsky’s inner circle; his closest collaborators that shared his vision and strove to make it reality. My purpose it to examine Slipyi’s early career and describe the qualities, achievements, and circumstances which led to him to become Sheptytsky's successor as head of the Ukrainian Greek-Catholic Church.

(to be continued...)

Monday, 21 November 2016

Yosyf Botsian: The Forgotten Ukrainian Bishop

In memory of 
on the ninetieth anniversary of his death
Lviv, 21 November 1926

-Born in Busk of Kamienets, 10 March 1879
-ordained priest, Univ, 21 August 1904
-doctor of theology, Vienna 1905
-rector of the Lviv Greek-Catholic Seminary, 9 October 1910
-ordained Bishop of Lutsk, Hotel Continental, Kyiv, 21 September 1914
-arrested by Russian occupiers, Lviv, 18 February 1915
-exiled to Yenissey, Siberia, 28 May 1915
-released by Provisional Government, 3 March 1917
-assisted at recognition of relics of St. Josaphat, Vienna, 31 August 1917
-returned to Lviv and resumed rectorship, 10 September 1917
-appointed vicar for Kholm Eparchy, March 1918
-interned in Lviv Seminary by Polish army, 3 November 1918
-resigned as rector due to ill health, April 1919
-Benedict XV confirmed as Bishop of Lutsk, 23 February 1921
-scholarly work at Pidhirtsi Monastery (old Lutsk Eparchy) 1922
-auxiliary bishop of Lviv, 20 October 1924
-ordained Blessed Vasyl Velychkovsky (future Bishop of Lutsk) to the priesthood, 9 October 1925
-presented as archpriest of Lviv Metropolitan Chapter of Canons, July 1926.
longer article to follow

Thursday, 3 November 2016

Benedict XV in Search of Peace for Ukraine

Bologna, 3–5 November 2016.

This is not the time or the place to thoroughly examine in what manner the Vatican manifested sympathy for the idea of the Ukrainian state, and what was the motive behind this sympathy. This shall be done by the historian who, at the proper time, gains access to the sources which are certainly to be found in the Vatican and other places.
— Petro Karmansky, “Cardinal Gasparri and Ukraine,” (1934)

Born during Benedict XV’s Reign
There is no peace for Ukraine, not a hundred years after it fleetingly appeared on the world stage, nor twenty-five years after having finally achieved independence, following centuries of the oblivion of imperial subjugation. One hundred years ago, Benedict XV addressed to the world the words “nations do not die.” Sometimes, however, nations are born only with great difficulty, as in Ukraine, whose cause did not provoke any moralizing campaign of sympathy from the Western powers. During the pontificate of Benedict XV, Ukraine was born as a state but died as a nation that never enjoyed a day of peace. Nonetheless, Pope Della Chiesa took up the cause of Ukraine and strove, with significant gestures, to bring peace to “his dear Ukrainians.”

Rus – Ruthenia – Ukraine
 “Nation” is a modern concept. There is no strict necessity for any given nation to come into being. But the process of national awakening among certain ethnic groups is an historical fact. Ukrainian national consciousness emerged in the nineteenth century, based on various precedents. In the ninth century, The Norse Ruriks, who ruled over Slavic tribes surrounding the Dnipro river, formed a state called Rus’ with it capital in Kyiv. The people of Kyivan-Rus eventually constituted themselves into three nations: Ukraine, Belarus, and Russia. After the Mongol conquest in the thirteenth century, the political and cultural inheritance of Kyivan-Rus passed to Lithuania, Poland, and Muscovy. The people called themselves Rusyn or Ruski in the plural. Westerners began to refer to those in Poland-Lithuania as Rutheni.
Prince Volodymyr (or Vladimir) had accepted Byzantine Christianity in 988. After the Great Schism, the Orthodox Church of Rus continued to maintain some contact with the Roman Apostolic See. In 1253 Pope Innocent IV sent his legate with a kingly crown to Danylo prince of Halych, the last independent Rus principality. Most of south-western Rus passed to Lithuania but Halych was conquered in 1367 by the Polish King. North-Eastern Rus became Muscovy.
In 1439, Isidore, Metropolitan of Kyiv, signed the act of union of the Roman and Byzantine Churches at the Council of Florence, and was made a cardinal. But his efforts to make the union a reality were met with opposition at home. In 1595, the bishops of the Kyivan Metropolia signed another act of union with the Roman See. This “Union of Brest” only united portion of the Kyivan Church, while another portion remained in communion with the Orthodox world. The Kyivan Metropolitans received patriarchal-like powers from the Roman Pontiff. Yet, despite opposition from Roman Catholics and Orthodox, the Uniate Church flourished in Poland-Lithuania, and Pope Urban VIII told the Ruthenians that he hoped to convert the entire East through them.
As Muscovy, renamed Russia, encroached upon Poland-Lithuania, the Uniates were forcibly amalgamated to the Russian Orthodox Church. After the final partition in 1795, the Uniate Church was destined to survive only Austrian Galicia (named for the old Halych principality). Empress Maria Theresa abolished the term “Uniate” as pejorative, and replaced it with “Greek Catholic,” on par with her Roman Catholic subjects.
With the awakening of the nations after the French Revolution, the Ruthenians also began to assert national-ethnic consciousness. The Ukrainian risorgimento began in Austrian Galicia and was led by the Greek-Catholic clergy, in the absence of their secular nobility, which had adopted a Polish consciousness. As the popoli italici of various dialects and principalities, became the nazione italiana, so the Ruthenians of the Austrian and Russian Empires came to see themselves as a single nation. And as Italia was once only a geographical term, so the geographical designation Ukraïna was adopted as a national descriptive, to distinguish the nation from Russia.

Pro and Contra Relations with Ukraine
            Until the First World War, the Russian Empire was the most powerful state in central-eastern Europe and represented the determining factor papal policy. Viewing the region’s political and religious futures in the Russian context, Leo XIII had inaugurated a diplomatic outreach to the Russia and, at the same time, supported religious “unionism,” as opposed to Latin missionary proselytism, as a means for eventual ecclesial reunion. The policy aimed to strengthen and support Eastern Catholicism, especially among the Ruthenians, so that they would become missionaries to nearby Orthodox countries.
The papacy’s relations with the stateless Ruthenian-Ukrainian people were mainly ecclesiastical and determined by a religious-political policy geared to each empire to which Ukrainians were subject. From the second half of the 19th century, as a distinct nation began to manifest itself, the Holy See had to factor Ukraine into its outlook. Religiously, Ukrainians were viewed within a unionistic framework: Greek-Catholics in Austria were looked upon as the protagonists of unionism, and Orthodox Christians in Russian Ukraine were viewed as the object of unionistic hopes. The Holy See had no political hopes for Ukrainians, either in Austria or in Russia.  Better relations with Russia aimed to secure increased freedom for Catholics in the Tsarist Empire. Since Austria-Hungary took Poland’s place as the Catholic state in central-Eastern Europe, the Holy See saw it as an antidote against the encroaching influence of Orthodox Russia. Consequently, Rome did not favor independence for any of Austria’s constituent nationalities. The First World War threw the status quo into chaos and necessitated a reconfiguration of the papal outlook for central-eastern Europe.

Open Diplomacy “Above the parties”
Benedict XV’s pontificate saw a return the grande politique of Leo XIII which he himself had helped Cardinal Rampolla implement, while serving in the Secretariat of State. The policy of patient, free-maneuver diplomacy, independent of political alliances and with diplomatic outreach to all states, was perfectly suited to new states like Ukraine. In his first encyclical letter, the Pope identified nationalistic hatred as one if he principal causes of the war. Nevertheless, as the conflict developed, so Vatican policy  evolved from favoring  a political status quo to one of reserved acceptance of national movements. With Catholics on all sides of conflict demanding papal support, Benedict XV moved from favoring a policy of disinterested neutrality to that of a peacemaker and mediator “above the parties.” His two main diplomatic objectives, general pacification and drawing separated Christians closer to Rome, spoke directly to the Ukrainian situation.

Ukraine between Russian and Austrian/Polish policies
At first, Benedict XV did not have a specific Ukrainian policy. The future of “Ruthenians,” was seen the contexts of the two empires to which they were subject. The Holy See supported the integrity of Austria-Hungary as the strongest Catholic state in central Europe. As to Russia, the Vatican was favorable to autonomy or independence of as many as possible of the nations, due to the Tsarist Empire’s consistent oppression of Catholicism. This was especially true for Poland, the largest portion of which had been partitioned to Russia. During the war, the Holy See took up Polish cause and the pope included it his 1917 Peace Note. When it became clear that the Austrian Empire could not be salvaged, the Vatican turned to Poland as a substitute Catholic power. Following Polish independence, Rome situated Ukrainians between its Polish and Russian policies.

The Turning Point of Revolution
The 1917 Revolutions in Russia marked a turned-point for Vatican policy. Since the Provisional Government granted religious freedom, the Roman Curia had to consider the best way of re-introducing, in those vast regions, the Catholic presence which had been suffocated under Tsarist rule. The revolutions strengthened the national movements of Russia’s subject peoples and facilitated their independence. A the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, of February 1918, the Central Powers recognized the newly-proclaimed Ukrainian National Republic and immediately transformed it into a client state.
The euphoria that followed religious freedom in Russia gave rise to “mirages” of union between a number of national Orthodox Churches and Rome. In response to such hopes, Benedict XV established an autonomous department, the Sacred Congregation for the Eastern Church, to coordinate Eastern Catholic life and promote unionistic missions. The new office was given significant authority promote and defend the Eastern Catholic Churches. The Oriental Congregation, as it was often referred to, paid careful attention to religious and political affairs of the Ukrainian National Republic as well as those of the Ukrainian Greek-Catholics in Austria.

Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky
Perhaps the most important Eastern-Catholic leader of the period was Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky, Archbishop of Lviv-Halych and primate of the Ukrainian Greek-Catholic Church. Of Ruthenian-Polish aristocratic lineage, Sheptytsky chose to return to his eastern roots by enlisting in Basilian Order, one of Leo XIII’s unionist experiments. In the eyes of the Poles who governed Austrian Galicia, his duel pedigree made Sheptytsky ideal for leading the Greek-Catholic Church along a subservient path, at the time when Ukrainian national consciousness was taking hold.
Sheptytsky’s ideals sprang from the Leo XIII’s unionism but matured due to his personal contacts among the Ukrainian, Polish, and Russian elites. In 1907, he obtained unprecedented powers from Pius X, kept secret even from the Secretary of State Cardinal Merry del Val, to begin rebuilding the foundations for Eastern Catholic Churches where they had been suppressed by Russia. Sheptytsky cautiously but also critically supported the Ukrainian national movement in Austrian Galicia.
Only days before the election of Benedict XV, Sheptytsky was arrested by Russian invaders, as a dangerous opponent to Tsarist assimilation plans. Cardinal Gasparri launched an energetic yet fruitless diplomatic campaign for his release. From Siberian captivity, Sheptytsky sent six letters to the new pontiff, outlining his unionist vision for Russia and Ukraine. As soon as he was freed, the metropolitan established a Russian Catholic Exarchate, using the secret faculties granted him by Pius X. Benedict XV tended to favor Sheptytsky’s proposal for a predominantly Byzantine-Rite as opposed to a Latin mission, in post-revolutionary Russia. This view was fiercely opposed by the Poles, who had long held the monopoly over Catholic activities in Russia.
As long as Italy and Austria were at war, Sheptytsky was barred from visiting Rome, to explain his plans to the Pope and prove the authenticity of his special faculties. His first meeting with Benedict XV occurred in February 1921, and it provoked a turning point in Vatican policy. Pope Benedict confirmed the faculties, recognized the bishop that Sheptytsky had consecrated using them, and confirmed the Russian exarch that he had nominated.

The Holy See’s Relations with Ukraine
Until the First World War, Ukrainian representation at the Papal Court was exclusively religious in character. Since the Union of Brest, the Metropolitans of Kyiv maintained a procurator to the Holy See. At the outbreak of the War, Ukrainians began a campaign to bring their still-stateless nation to the attention of the international community. They also entered into direct contact with the Roman Curia and papal diplomatic representatives abroad. Catholic aristocrats from Russian Ukraine, who were friends of Metropolitan Sheptytsky, were among Ukraine’s most ardent promoters.
The most important of these amateur diplomats was Count Michael Tyshkevych. With his vast financial resources and social connections, Tyshkevych moved to Switzerland to promote the Ukrainian cause and was largely responsible for brining it to the attention of the western press. Several qualities also made him an ideal representative to the Vatican: he had a western European education, he was a papal knight, and founder of Catholic associations in Russia. As both the Holy See and Ukraine were seeking international recognition, Tyshkevych sought to promote Ukraine by collaborating with Benedict XV’s ideals: peace and humanitarian diplomacy.
Tyshkevych had already obtained Pius X’s encouragement in founding the Kyiv Peace Association. On 27 December 1914, he approached the papal Secretariat of State for a blessing from the new pontiff, not omitting to ask for support for the suffering Ukrainian nation. On 9 January 1915, Monsignor Pacelli communicated the apostolic blessing with the qualification “(for you and your work),” likely in order to avoid any inference of support for any Ukrainian political cause. On 1 June 1916, Tyshkevych approached Pacelli again, touching on another of Pope Benedict’s key policies: church unity. He told Pacelli that both Catholic and Orthodox Ukrainians of Austria and Russia had asked him to approach him to the their “protector and intermediary” by delivering a confidential memorandum on Ukraine to His Holiness. On 9 June, Pacelli wrote to assure him that he had delivered the document personally.
 In 1917, Count Tyshkevych began to write directly to Cardinal Gasparri. Pope Benedict had launched a collection for the Poles and Lithuanians devastated by the war. On 17 February, Tyshkevych sent a petition asking for a such collection to be initiated for the Ukrainians. In March 1918, he brought greetings to the pontiff from the Association of Romans Catholics in Ukraine, as newly-elected head of their association. He also presented a memorandum in support of the Treaty of Brest-Litowsk’s controversial award of the disputed Kholm region to the nascent Ukrainian Republic.
The Ukrainian State was slow to make use of the Catholic notables that had promoted its cause abroad.  Only on 1 September 1918 did Tyshkevych ask the Holy See to accept an official Ukrainian representative. However, after the signing of the Brest Treaty, the Germans occupied Ukraine and turned it into a satellite state, recognized only by the Central Powers. Given the uncertainly of the war’s outcome, Cardinal Gasparri preferred to “defer this project, for a time.”
Michael Tyshkevych having failed, another Catholic aristocrat took up the cause. In October 1918, Jan Tokarzewski-Karaszewicz, who was serving as attaché to the Ukrainian consulate in Vienna, approached the Apostolic Visitor to Poland, Achille Ratti, on the matter of Vatican-Ukrainian relations. With the fall of Austria-Hungary, 8 November 1918 Benedict XV gave orders for his representatives to establish relations with the nationalities. In March 1919 Tokarzewski went to see the Nuncio in Vienna and informed him that his government had decided to send a three-man diplomatic mission to the Holy See, headed by Count Tyshkevych. Tokarzewski suggested that diplomatic relations were necessary due to the possibilities for Catholicism in predominantly Orthodox Ukraine. On 12 March 1919, the Ukrainian consul in Berne asked Monsignor Maglione to transmit an official request for a diplomatic mission to be accredited to the Holy See. 
Cardinal Gasparri responded to Maglione on 26 March 1919, that the Holy See would be particularly happy to enter into diplomatic relations with Ukraine, especially in view of its promised freedom for Catholicism. However, it did not accord full relations to new countries that had not been recognized by the Great Powers (meaning the Entente). In the meantime, only Tyshkevych, deemed “acceptable, being already in relations with the Papal Court,” was to be received in the role of semi-official envoy. The UNR regarded the  acceptance of Tyshkevych’s mission as recognition by the Holy See of the Ukrainian State. In reality, it merely represented a de facto recognition of the UNR Government and a gesture of good will, in the hope that, if the state would survive, the Church would be accorded the promised religious freedom.
Michael Tyshkevych spent virtually two years educating the Holy See about the Ukrainian national cause, promising a bright future for Catholicism in Ukraine, and reporting on the political and humanitarian challenges faced by the nascent republic. He was received several times by curial officials and, on 26 May 1919, by Benedict XV himself. The pontiff assured him that he supported “the autonomy of Ukraine” and had asked his representative at the Peace Conference to defend the Ukrainian cause. From August 1919, Tyshkevych took charge of the UNR delegation at the Paris Peace Conference, during which time he did not neglecting his Vatican contacts. He pursued a fruitless quest for full diplomatic recognition through 1920. The Pope’s promise to support Ukraine at the Paris Conference was confirmed by Cardinal Gasparri on 20 July 1920.

Achille Ratti and the Polish-Ukrainian War
Six month before the First World War’s end, Benedict XV sent Vatican Librarian Achille Ratti to Warsaw as Apostolic Visitor, to resuscitate the Polish Church, devastated from over a century of Russian rule. Ratti’s mission was soon extended to include Russia and formerly Austrian Galicia. By November 1918, his visitation technically included all the lands which the Ukrainians declared to be part of their national state.
In the conflict between Poles and Ukrainians, Benedict XV’s predictions about nationalistic hatred came true, and his stance as mediator “above the parties” was put to the test. Following the collapse of the Habsburg Monarchy, the two nations fought over the sovereignty of Eastern Galicia. A national conflict became a religious feud between Roman-Catholic Poles and the Greek-Catholic Ukrainians. Each side was supported in their political aspirations by their respective hierarchies and clergies, and each called the Holy See to support the rightness of their cause. Ratti declared that the Pope supported both peoples but left political judgments to the politicians. He intervened with authorities from both sides on behalf of those who had been harshly treated. Although publically combatting ingrained prejudice against the Eastern Churches, privately and to his superiors he expressed relief at the Polish victory in Galicia. 
In the end, the Polish-Ukrainian War had affected Achille Ratti’s idealistic perceptions. By the time of his appointment as Apostolic Nuncio to Poland, in July 1919, his attitude toward Polish Catholicism had become more critical, especially regarding its attitude toward national minorities and strong aversion to the Eastern Rites. Any correctives that Ratti offered the Poles went largely unnoticed to the vanquished Ukrainians, who were forced to endure harsh repression. Complaints about the persecution of Greek-Catholics prompted the Roman Curia to rethink its position regarding an envoy for Ukrainian affairs.

Apostolic Visitation to Ukraine
In consultation with the Roman Catholic hierarchy, Ukrainian diplomats had first asked for an apostolic visitation on 14 September 1918. Achille Ratti encouraged Jan Tokarzewski-Karaszewicz to petition Holy See and even declared himself willing to perform the visitation personally. He also signaled his approval for Tyshkevych to be appointed envoy to the Holy See. Despite this, Tyshkevych voiced Ukrainian dissatisfaction with Ratti’s alleged bias toward the Poles. From May through October 1919, Tyshkevych and Tokarzewski did not cease to petition for the appointment of an apostolic visitor to Ukraine and Eastern Galicia, and the exclusion of Ratti from this charge.
The internal situation in the Ukrainian Republic was only one factor impeding an apostolic visitation. Reports continued to arrive at the Vatican of persecution of Ukrainians in Galicia, at the hands of the victorious Poles. In one such report, of April 1919, Achille Ratti expressed his own fears that the Poles intended to eliminate the Greek-Catholic Church altogether. In September, the Government threatened to recall its ambassador if the Holy See “ruled in favor of the Ukrainians.”
A summary of the Galician situation was brought to Benedict XV on 28 January 1920. The Oriental Congregation concluded that an unbiased inspection was necessary, in order to verify the reports and provide humanitarian aid. A purely religious mission was proposed without political connotations, which would show interest in Ukrainians affairs without provoking diplomatic rupture with the Poles. On 13 February, Benedict XV appointed Giovanni Genocchi as apostolic visitor to Ukraine. His shrewd judgment and diplomatic finesse were esteemed by the diplomats of Rampolla school, including his old classmate, Pope Benedict.
Genocchi’s instructions outlined three main aspects of his mission. The first was public: the visitation was a benevolent gesture, especially in the form of medical aid to devastated Ukrainian people. The second was not public: to prepare terrain for the Catholic Church in Ukraine. And the third was secret: to verify the persecution and help the Greek-Catholic Church in Polish-administered Eastern Galicia. Genocchi was told that “the Holy See has no reason to be opposed to the Ukrainians demands for statehood, if they are able to practically maintain their independence and if it is recognized by the international community, and looks benevolently on their efforts, which it hopes will be advantageous for Catholicism.” The visitor was told to emphasize the equality of the Latin and Byzantine Catholic Rites, to establish the facts in Galicia and relay them to Holy See, which would bring them to attention of Poland at an opportune time. On his way from Rome, Genocchi met with Ukrainian representatives in Paris, Vienna, and Warsaw. He spoke Metropolitan Sheptytsky six times in Vienna and was impressed by his integrity and holiness.  
Hitherto the Warsaw Nunciature had been responsible for Ukrainian affairs. As the visitor had to travel through Poland, the Secretariat of State asked Ratti to take Genocchi’s mission under his wing. But unbeknown to the Vatican, Genocchi was arriving at the worst possible moment. Before he could reach Lviv, the Poles took control of his mission. Marshall Pilsudski had concluded an alliance with UNR and was in the midst of liberating it from Bolshevik rule. En route to Lviv, Genocchi was summoned to Warsaw where he was told that Pilsudski had decided that he should wait until military victories made it safe for him to go to Kyiv. Ratti promised to personally accompany him in June, Pilsudski promised to pay the journey, and Bishop Dubowski of Lutsk promised them hospitality, along the way.
Polish hopes came to naught. By the end of June, the Bolsheviks had begun  a counter-attack that would lead them to the very gates of Warsaw. As the government abandoned the capital, Ratti sent Genocchi to Vienna where, on 14 September 1920, the visitor submitted a full report to Pope Benedict. One of Genocchi’s conclusions was that “many Ukrainians feel abandoned by the Holy See because it does not [intervene to] stop the Polish persecutions.” Due to his forthright evaluations, future primate of Poland, Father August Hlond, told Genocchi that he would not be welcomed back to Poland anytime soon. The most concrete result of the apostolic visitation was the aide provided: 150,000 Italian Lire via the Red Cross for Ukrainian children, 131 cases of medicine worth 100,000 Lire, 50,000 Lire to the destitute Greek-Catholic clergy in Galicia. From Vienna, he also sent 220,000 Marks for the Latin Bishops in Ukraine, and for Greek-Catholic bishops and religious in Eastern Galicia.
Perhaps as significant as humanitarian diplomacy were the reports which the visitor sent to Rome. Genocchi’s judgments, and those of others, led Benedict XV to make more than one clamorous gestures in support of Ukrainians. On 24 February 1921, the pontiff addressed a public letter to Metropolitan Sheptytsky, ostensibly upon the re-opening of the Ruthenian College in Rome. The letter was actually a solemn act of solidary with the Ukrainian people and contained allusions to religious persecution under Polish mandate. Even Genocchi was shocked by the strength of the protest and by the fact that his mission had been cited publically. Against counsels of prudence from the Secretariat of State, Pope Benedict insisted that this letter be published in the June 1921 fascicle of the Acta Apostolicae Sedis. As a result, Poland made good on its promise and recalled its ambassador to the Holy See. Then, on 16 July 1921, the pope lectured the Polish Episcopate in another public letter, admonishing them to manifest universal charity for their fellow clergy of different nationalities and rites. By the end of the year, the Polish press was reporting that Cardinal Gasparri had advised the new Polish ambassador not to upset the Holy Father by saying anything against “his beloved Ukrainians.”
The Bolshevik takeover of Ukraine precluded the possibility that Father Genocchi would be able to carry out his mission. In December 1921, he asked to be recalled on condition that the Visitation to Ukraine continue, at least on paper, as a gesture of solidarity. Upon his arrival in Rome, in January 1922, Benedict XV insisted on receiving him immediately, despite the fact that the pontiff was in his last illness and died a few days after the audience. Elected to the papacy as Pius XI, Achille Ratti retained Genocchi as his official Ukrainian advisor and sent him back to Eastern Galicia for one more visitation. In gratitude for Genocchi’s efforts, the UNR government-in-exile sent a delegation to his funeral, in 1926.

Friends and Failed Dreams
The Entente’s politics of “might makes right” prevailed over Wilson’s principals of national self-determination and over Benedict XV’s ethics which opposed a peace dictated to the vanquished by the victors. Ukraine arose from the ashes of the War, but it’s foes were too powerful and its allies to few. Nonetheless, it was destined to remain nominally on the map as “the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic,” a concession to the national movement that even Lenin was hard-pressed to refuse.

Benedict XV made a place for Ukraine in his Pax Romana, his ethical peace with the Papacy as mediator and magister. Througout the long history of its travails, Ukraine never forgot that he was one of the few leaders who showed it any kindness. When Giaccomo della Chiesa died, in January 1922, condolences arrived at the Holy See declaring that: “Ukrainians have lost a friend and magnanimous protector,” and a “special benefactor.” Indeed, the same understanding and support for Ukraine was never again to be seen in the Vatican corridors, up to the present day.

Non omnia praetera vulgata hac de re sunt: multa tabulariis sunt, quae cum proferentur, nimium quantum Benedicti sapientiam, iustitiam, constantiam, caritetem illustrabunt.  
—Laudatio Benedicti XV P.M. habita in Aede Xystina (February 1922)