February marked the third year of war between Russia and Ukraine while simultaneously acting as a touch point for the new presidential transition in the United States.
About 100 days after Russia invaded Ukraine on Feb. 24, 2022, I was with a group of UK Parliamentarians driving from Poland to across the border and into the war zone. We were investigating early claims that the war may have religious motivation and ongoing freedom of religion or belief violations.
We were also concerned — and continue to be — that Russia is taking genocidal actions to forcibly transfer Ukrainian children to Russia or committing other mass atrocities on the war front.
Furthermore, as an economist and humanitarian I was interested in how we could transport aid to communities in critical need and where there were potential gaps in supporting displaced communities.
We knew early on that places of worship were being used both in Ukraine and Poland to support large and growing numbers of refugees and were eager to see firsthand how churches had been converted to centers for transit, housing, feeding, and supplies.
It was suggested that we meet with the Benedictine Nuns, a historic order known for their cloistering from society upon taking the vow to leave the world behind as servants of Jesus Christ. Anticipating we would interact with staff but not entirely sure what to expect, we approached the church, one of the largest in the city.
To my great astonishment, the large wooden church door was opened wide by the nuns themselves.
Despite the solemn context in which we greeted them, they were cheerful and hopeful. One had a scooter she proudly touted through the halls of the cloisters.
Our group was immediately inquisitive regarding their leaving the cloisters, and intrigued by what the consequences may be for their order. Their response still sits in my heart with great reverence: “When the war started we knew we had to make a choice…. we knew we had to do something to help our own people. We agreed that we should part with tradition and open our closed spaces to help Ukraine."
Their courage and clarity deeply touched me. The visceral symbolism of their message to us was not lost on me. They proceeded to guide us down the halls of the cloister and slowly opened each door revealing where personal spaces of prayer and meditation had been transformed to house Ukrainian families who were fleeing the front lines of the war.
I knew it was a sacred privilege to see the inside of the cloisters, but even more sacred to me to see the families who occupied them and how the nuns chose to live their beliefs and not just preach them.
I knew also that their bravery was also an act of rebellion against Russia, against dictatorship, against injustice.
They could have stayed silent or in the comfort of their own religious order for the duration of the war. But they didn’t. They opened their closed spaces even if it meant parting with ecclesiastical tradition.
We must open more than just physically closed spaces, we must also open our hearts and minds to those who look, act, or believe differently than us — with the ultimate goal of creating a world with more peace and social cohesion. We must open our hearts to a righteous indignation that motivates political change and take steps to prevent wars and disrupt the cycle of genocide.
And just like the nuns, we should remember that religion can be a powerful force to motivate non-violent resistance to all injustice — stirring our souls to take action.
As Americans, we could stay cloistered in the comfort of how our beliefs help our own families alone — without ever raising our voices to benefit others. If so, we would be losing something far greater.
Many believe the very foundation of our nation, and democracy are now at stake — as well as fighting for a more peaceful world. We cannot stay silent at threats to basic freedoms or the Constitutional order that has inspired liberty around the world. And we cannot stay in the confines of our blessings if the government moves to trample our rights and the rights of others.
Now is the time to open our closed spaces like the Benedictine nuns and take action.
If you have a church, open your doors. If you have a pen, write. If you have a platform, post. If you have a phone, make a call. If you have financial security, donate. If you are unhappy with the current political climate, look inwards, and open the spaces of anxiety, fear, or apathy and search your religion for desire, faith, and focus.
Every good action is a reminder to the evil of this world that something beautiful remains that cannot ever be won, invaded or killed.
Faith means not giving up the fight for a better tomorrow — while ever opening our closed spaces to those in the greatest need.