About three years ago a grave appeared by one of the entrances to St. Sofia’s Cathedral, the last repose of Ukraine’s second historic Patriarch Volodymyr. To many this grave is a lasting reproach for lack of dedication, a flaw in civic consciousness. Lying buried there is a man named Volodymyr Romaniuk.
All those fortunate enough to have met with Patriarch Volodymyr of Kyiv and All Rus’-Ukraine are still amazed at his optimism, something bordering on a carefree attitude (hardly to be expected from a clergyman holding such rank), and inimitable friendliness. It was hard to believe that this man spent almost 25 years in Soviet prison camps, exile, and was constantly persecuted by the authorities even when formally a free citizen. Those who knew him well say that his calm, unwavering optimism stemmed from his pure conscience and absolute conviction that this was the only way a true Christian could live.
Vasyl Romaniuk, future Ukrainian Patriarch Volodymyr, was born in 1925, in Khymchyny, a village located not far from Ivano-Frankivsk. His parents were poor Ukrainian peasants and the boy would not even dream of a religious career, having to help them with daily farming chores. He stepped onto the path leading to the Church in 1944. Vasyl, then aged 19, was arrested by the NKVD, on charges of malicious contacts with the UPA Ukrainian Insurgent Army. He got 10 years in Kolyma, although his involvement in armed anti-Soviet actions was never proven. After that he received another five years of exile in Magadan. There he met a Ukrainian woman convict from Volyn. They got married and soon had their only offspring, a boy christened Taras.
Vasyl Romaniuk recalled those tragic years — the better part of his adult life — calmly, like a true Christian, bearing no grudges. He called them “my university years,” perhaps unwittingly following the example of many other subjects of the Russian Empire before him. Behind barbed wire, he was blessed with a good many teachers, including men of letters, scientists, even academicians. It was in that remote frost-bitten land that he became aware of his true vocation: serving our Lord and the Ukrainian Church. He began to learn the Holy Scriptures and study other religious literature. Returning to Ukraine, he took a full course of theological training to be ordained a parish priest, but this was postponed by the Soviet authorities until 1964, because he was not listed among the “loyal clergy.”
His next circle of the pit of Hell began 8 years later. The Rev. Vasyl was arrested on anti-Soviet propaganda charges, this time formally motivated, because he had indeed lectured parishioners, telling them the truth, calling for respecting their religious and national traditions, admonishing them to live by His Dictates. In the course of police investigation and in the courtroom they tried to prevail upon the priest to disown his persuasions. If he did, he would be immediately released, fully acquitted. He refused, fully aware of what lay in wait. He received seven years of hard labor in Mordovia and three years in Yakutia. When he got out he had a very bad cardiac condition (he would have several infarctions; after the third attack his doctors said retirement was the only remedy and shook their heads when asked about the alternative, later proved right). Shortly after the Rev. Vasyl returned home his wife passed away, after spending countless years worried about her close and dear ones, always expecting the worse. Now there were only two. His son was also religious and wanted to enroll in a seminary. Before long it transpired that no such institutions would admit the son of a known dissident. His father was forbidden to preach.
During his second term the Rev. Vasyl often went on long hunger strikes, demanding permission to read The Bible and take Holy Communion (which in most civilized countries is respected as every prisoner’s inalienable right). It was then he established firm contacts with the human rights movement. He wrote letters and statements addressed to various international organizations, exposing human rights violations in the USSR, specifically the right to profess one’s chosen religion. He became known in the West as a Soviet dissident priest and Metropolitan Mstyslav launched a campaign for his liberation. It was supported by President Reagan, clergymen, and believers in a number of countries. After the Rev. Vasyl was released another campaign started, pressing the Soviet authorities to let the Romaniuks out. Neither wanted to emigrate, but they had no alternative.
The Rev. Vasyl was made sincerely welcome in the free world and shown utmost respect by the international Christian community. He was received at the White House, spoke in the Canadian Parliament, and had a book of sermons published in English in Toronto, titled A Voice in the Wilderness. Everything was nice, now he could live a normal comfortable life. A year later Ukraine was aflame with what he could only regard as long-anticipated progressive changes taking place at a head-spinning rate. The turn of the Ukrainian Church came. It was actually being revived. The Rev. Vasyl Romaniuk made up his mind to return home. To “have the time to do something for the Church and for Ukraine,” as his son Taras would later quote his father. In 1990, the Rev. Vasyl took the monastic vows and was admitted under the name of Volodymyr, shortly afterwards ordained bishop. After the passing of Patriarch Mstyslav Bishop Volodymyr was elected Patriarch of the Independent Ukrainian Orthodox Church under the Kyiv Patriarchate.
His high religious rank did not change Vasyl Romaniuk as a pious, open-hearted, and friendly man, totally alien to any pomp. His office was open for one and all, rank or social status notwithstanding. His relatives, colleagues, and friends tried to impose some restrictions on the incessant flow of visitors, fearing for his health, but every such attempt was met with wrathful reproaches. It was the Patriarch’s habit to start the day by shouting to the secretary, “Whoever wishes to see me, show them in!” The Ukrainian Cossacks offered him bodyguards. He said a resolute no. He would walk city streets alone. People would approach him, asking a piece of advice or money. In the latter case the Patriarch would just turn all his pockets inside out, offering what he had (never much, for he did not have much).
Material values and vanity did not seem to exist for the Patriarch. He was adamant in banning any personal expenses. Even basic necessities were an unaffordable luxury in his eyes. Some of those around him became suspicious. Others thought him a silly old eccentric. None could surmise that they were dealing with a fellow man, one of the rare species fit to be sanctified. Mostly, he was criticized by those who did not know him personally. Those that met and communicated with him always thought highly of him. He had a very special gift. He surprised people showing them the light where they would have never expected to see it. His son Taras tells of a young Kyiv resident, an affiliate to a different Orthodox church. He confronted the Patriarch near St. Sofia’s Cathedral and began accusing him of heresy and transgressions of Canon Law. The old man heard him out, asked his name, and said, “Mykhailo, do you really know what you are talking about?” And then they had a long friendly discussion and the man became an ardent follower of the Patriarch and his Independent Ukrainian Church.
The Rt. Rev. Volodymyr was very concerned about the rift in the Ukrainian Orthodox community. He made every effort to solve the problem, specifically trying to come to terms with the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church. Several days before his death he paid a private visit to Patriarch Dimitry, contrary to protocol. He wanted to discuss the situation and the two worked it out after a long and strenuous dialogue. Both agreed unity was the only alternative. But then Patriarch Volodymyr died, and their plan never came to fruition.
Patriarch Volodymyr was held in esteem by the entire Ukrainian intellectual community. It was thanks to him that many people returned to the Church. People listening to his sermons often recorded them, because his ideas and concepts were extremely penetrating, embracing the modern lifestyle, teaching people what they should do as fellow humans and citizens. They say that no prophet is recognized in his own country. The Patriarch is known and respected in his native land. A chapel was built by his fellow villagers in Khymchyny and a street was named Vasyl Romaniuk in his honor. Many people in Ukraine believe that Patriarch Volodymyr deserves to be canonized. They are not without grounds.







