Why are UOC priests joining OCU? Part 1: "Savior Syndrome"

Ex-archminandrite Seraphim decided to "save" people not in his village, but in Kyiv. Photo: UOJ

This publication is the first in a series that aims to explore the reasons behind why some priests of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (UOC) are joining the Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU). What are the true reasons and motivations behind their actions? Here we go.

Why did Panakratov leave?

On December 13, 2023, it was announced that Metropolitan Yevlogiy of Sumy had banned Archimandrite Seraphim (Pankratov) from the priesthood. The formal reason cited was his unauthorized departure from his parish. The real reason, however, was Seraphim's move to the OCU. In a letter explaining his decision, the former archimandrite of the UOC stated that he welcomed the ban because he had received an offer "that he could not refuse."

In the letter, Seraphim mentioned that he could not remain in the UOC if he personally experienced that "being in it radically narrows my opportunities to witness Christ to people who do not yet belong to the Church." He expressed his determination not to bury his talent in the ground and fulfill his responsibility before God for it.

He emphasized his interest in evangelism or speaking to non-churchgoers about faith in God and Christianity, which he considered his primary calling. However, it seems that the reality did not align with his initial vision. Instead of large audiences of non-churchgoers, his parish reportedly consisted of "only four nuns and a few parishioners."

When offered a position at the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra Reserve, he apparently saw it as an opportunity to fully utilize his "missionary talent." Ultimately, he concluded that staying in the UOC would harm the cause he believed in. Therefore, he made the decision to join the OCU under the leadership of Metropolitan Avraamy Lotysh.

The "great goal" he mentioned was revealed to be his longstanding desire to engage in the rehabilitation of Ukrainian Armed Forces soldiers. This situation prompts reflection on the dynamics behind such decisions and the various motivations at play within the religious landscape.

"The Savior Syndrome"

In psychology, there is a pattern known as the "rescuer syndrome." It is a psychological phenomenon characterized by a strong desire to "rescue" others, often without their request. This syndrome is often associated with a deeply rooted need for recognition and confidence in one's own "talents," which must be used "for the good of all people."

Psychologists caution that if the development of the "rescuer syndrome" is not stopped, it can lead to burnout, constant dissatisfaction with one's situation, and a distorted perception of God's role in one's life. In other words, the "rescuer" almost always becomes a person dissatisfied with their life, blaming others for not appreciating their talents, and denying them the opportunity to fully express them. In the context of the story of Pankratov and similar "missionary talents" buried in the ground, the picture looks like this.

An individual, inspired by books on elders, intelligent prayers, and Palamite disputes, and having watched a few lectures by Kuraev and Osipov on the internet, begins to dream of how he can "ignite hearts with his words." People from nearby cities and villages will come to his sermons, and the worship services will be conducted with Byzantine chanting and occasional ancient Greek language. He envisions a powerful community emerging at the parish, not only adorning the church but also building a school, dining hall, and hospital. This priest sees himself as an indefatigable preacher of the Gospel, preaching in the church in the morning, at the local school or university at noon, and recording videos for millions of subscribers on YouTube in the evening. In dreams, all this is easy and effortless, thanks to Kuraev's book, "Tradition, Dogma, Ritual," always at hand. However, in reality...

In reality, it looks different.

The bishop, recognizing missionary potential and enthusiasm in the young priest, sends him to a problematic parish, hoping that there he will demonstrate all his talents. Upon arrival in the village, the priest sees that there are few people in the church, no one to sing, and the roof is leaking. The local intelligentsia and authorities are not particularly interested in hearing about Gregory Palamas, and schoolchildren prefer the smell of tobacco to the scent of incense. In short, instead of the desired platform for missionary work, the young priest gets a field he needs to "plow" day and night. But, most importantly, the work must be done not as he initially envisioned but in a completely different way – speaking not with words but with life. And that is very challenging.

This is when such a priest begins to complain about the bishop, who did not appreciate his "talent" by sending him to serve "in the wilderness," where there is "no room to unfold." After all, he could be "saving" not a couple of old ladies, one of whom cannot hear and the other cannot see, but thousands of people who literally look him in the mouth. Not here, in the mud and swamp of an ordinary village, but there, in the lights of the capital. The grumbling turns into constant dissatisfaction, and then an "offer that cannot be refused" comes along, bundled with a search for "fulfillment." But not for Christ.

Where is the root of the problem?

The story of Pankratov is far from an isolated case. There are dozens of priests like him in the UOC. We've noticed a particular trend: those priests in our Church who talk the most about autocephaly, the need for reforms, getting closer to the people, and similar topics are often the ones facing serious problems in their parishes. Those most concerned about the fate of the Church are the ones struggling with work in their communities, where there are only three people attending services (including the sexton, chanter, and the priest's own wife), and who are confident in their "undeveloped talents." But who, one might ask, prevented them from unfolding these talents? Who hindered them? Who is preventing them from putting their church in order, organizing proper worship, simply serving the Liturgy—even if only on holidays and Sundays?

No one is hindering them.

If there is genuine talent, it cannot be hidden. If you are a talented preacher and missionary, your church will be filled with people even in the remotest village. Let's recall the saints of our Church. They intentionally went to deserts and forests to avoid human glory. But the farther they went, the quicker believers found them. You cannot hide a lamp that stands on a hill. Similarly, you cannot bury the talent of preaching the Gospel if it truly exists.

Moreover, it is precisely in a situation where you find yourself in a challenging parish that your talent can manifest itself best. Venerable Anthony of the Caves took refuge in a cave, and St. Sergius of Radonezh went into the deep forest. Now, two Lavras stand in the places of their exploits. Living as they did is difficult, especially if you suffer from the "rescuer syndrome." Because "rescuing" someone far away is much easier and simpler than saving yourself and those around you.

In conclusion, it would be sensible for all our priests who are dissatisfied with the Church to take a closer look at their parishes—perhaps the solution to all your problems is right there. Sooner or later, you must face the truth and admit to yourself that neither autocephaly nor the Ukrainian language will bring order to your altars or your minds. Only you can do that yourselves. 
 

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