位於烏克蘭的東部哈爾科夫(Kharkiv)，是烏克蘭的第二首都，語言以俄語為主。獨立記者陳子煜從基輔走進3月初連續兩星期被轟炸的哈爾科夫。被稱為烏克蘭的文化重鎮哈爾科夫已變得頹垣敗瓦，大批市民匆匆離開家園，同時亦有大批國民來到哈爾科夫救難。烏克蘭的國民跟記者訴說，縱使東面有城市已失守，首都基輔決不可以淪陷，第二個決不能被俄軍佔領的就是哈爾科夫。20世紀曾是烏克蘭首都的哈爾科夫，對於烏克蘭人來說，是他們的命根。
記者找到了當地的牧師Vasilii，Vasilii 說戰爭之後哈爾科夫人的內心非常糾結，因這裡早被俄羅斯文化佔據，一些街道的名稱也是用俄國著名詩命名，兩地你中有我，我中有你。俄烏的文化、宗教密不可分的城市，突然被鄰國入侵，牧師Vasilii說哈爾科夫人的痛苦、那份心情，是難以筆墨形容的。作為牧師的Vasilii也開始詰問：會寬恕鄰國的「兄弟」嗎？
「只有和平，才有明天，有了和平，你才能夠到教堂與神接觸，誠心禱告。當我們提及『兄弟』，提及『東正教』，我們為何要加引號『』⋯⋯，我們有一樣的教堂，同用一樣的語言，我們的教堂傳統也是一樣的。」
「我也在問自己能否寬恕，作為一個牧師，我的工作是傳道。基督教教徒會原諒懸在十字架的敵人，但現在我不能停止自己的思緒，我知道戰爭已造成很大的創傷，甚至禍延至下一代。」牧師Vasilii 說。
牧師Vasilii 努力向我們公開他的心聲，《誌》將他自白譯成中文。
沒有離笆的教堂
我的名字叫Farther Vasilii，今年50歲，是一間教會的牧師。我將在這教會侍奉第8個年頭。1930年教堂被摧毀了，教堂在原址建立而成的，它從二戰中倖免的存活下來，當時哈爾科夫(Kharkiv )被摧毀得一片狼藉。
教堂的設計前門是沒有籬笆。這象徵著教會的大門永遠為信仰的人們而開。教堂採巴洛克式建造，這成了(不，不止是寶石) 烏克蘭東北Sloboda 的地標。
這個三月所發生的一切，是難以言喻的，是一個莫大的悲慟，很多人說，「我們建造教堂不是為了讓你們的破壞的，是為了祭拜為了奉獻真主」。
「俄羅斯(語/人)，這不單只是一個稱呼，這是俄羅斯(語/人)」。
這尤其成了基輔市的一大悲痛，因為哈爾科夫(Kharkiv )是說俄語的。我會直言不諱的將這份傷痛告訴全世界。
距離教堂150米，是一座俄羅斯普欺金劇院。在600米以外是一座哈爾科夫國立大學，大學設有專教俄文及俄國文學的部門。這裡三、四條街的名字也是以著名的俄國詩人和作家命名的：Pushkinskaia, Lemontovskaia, Dostoievskogo⋯⋯等等。他們佔據了什麼？就是他們的人和語言。
你知道最大的痛苦在哪裡？這不離開是無辜的平民在戰爭中喪生，還有這座被(俄國)視為「軍火庫」和「重要的」軍事用地？感謝主，這裡沒有一個人喪生，在教堂以外，已被嚴重摧毀了。
這些被弄髒了的玻璃都均由能幹的工匠製成的，這裡的建立不是一個月、還是半個月，這裡花了很多時間而建成。可惜的是，教堂依然受到猛烈的導彈攻擊，炸彈震破很多設施。
戰爭真的讓我們走得更近⋯⋯？昔日我們一邊張望一邊說：「噯！這裡是天主教」又或是「這裡是基督教」；又或是「喂，莫斯科的神父在這裡」，這些事都不復見，很多人走了，我也曾經想過離開。
有時候，因戰爭而停工之後，這裡沒有窗，沒有門，沒有電，沒有水。這些情況是令人感到惶恐的，所有合唱團的成員離開這座城了。
離留之間
但是，當很多人發現只要人在，就可以貢獻，他們就來了。留下來的老人家哭笑不得，他們沒有感受到被遺棄。是，沒有人遺棄他們。沒有人遺棄病患者、有障礙的人、他們的貓狗，有些不能來到這裡，是因為健康問題；有些人甚至是害怕離開；亦有些決不離開，因為這是孕育他們的地方。
實在太可惜，當時你不在，那個早上我們在瓦礫中完成了復活節的敬拜。所有人都來了，形形色色各種各樣的人，不分你我的來到教會，教會連結了我們，那種信仰，那份堅定。
他們變得更虔誠，他們開始祈禱，他們的出發點變得更簡單。他們只想令年輕人和志願者得到快樂。他們有些人擁有金錢和汽車，他們本身可以走的，但他們選擇留下，他們替很多人煮食，他們為這座城市出力運輸⋯⋯。
3月2日，導彈為教堂帶來巨大震盪，而我們的金屬門簿得只有5mm的紙。幸好我們沒有受傷，教堂四周都是導彈的碎片，最大的導彈射進了博物館。這些導彈可以飛越400至500公里，你可以想像到嗎？導彈不是由黑海，就是從沃羅涅日（Voronezh），但我不確定。防空洞是長開的。
我感受到無比的痛苦，我失去了和我曾經至親的人們。他們的犧牲，僅僅是因為他們無法及時到達防空洞。他們都是在這裡生活的人，教堂響起叮叮——鈴聲，人們在祈禱，但現在空無一人。那五層樓高的建築裡，地底只有5個人住，在我們那一座的地下層就住了8個人了。
俄羅斯的政治宣傳總是說保護國民，而俄國人是這樣想。這種「保護國民」在破壞教堂，殺害百姓，這是我們的命運。
我曾在Borovskii 教區事奉，現在已成為駐了俄軍。那兒的生活好像回到幾十年前一樣，生活沒有因此已停頓。那裡有強盜搶掠，有強姦發生。這為我們帶來很大痛楚，我自己也有太太和一名女兒。
此外，以我所知的，已有4天沒讓擠奶的工人去農場了。你能想象嗎？現在是春天，大量的小牛剛被誕下，可憐的母牛因為無人擠奶，生理自然感受到痛苦，他們也痛苦得發出「哞」的慘叫聲。可幸有人把母牛從牛圈裡放出來，至少讓他們在田裡自由的行走。
My name is Farther Vasilii. I am a cleric of this church. This year, it was going to be 8 years from the day of this church initiation.
This church was built in the place of another church that had been destroyed in 1930. It had been blown up and dismantled for construction materials but only God knows where those construction materials had gone.
After surviving World War 2, Kharkiv was badly damaged.
There is no fence in front of the main entrance. It is also a symbol of the church being always open to people.
The church is in the Baroque style and it has become an adornment /no, not a jewel!/ of the Sloboda Ukraine [a historical region now located in Northeastern Ukraine]
What happened in March this year is hard to describe in words. It’s great grief. Many people say, “We built this church not for destruction after all but prayer.”
“Russian” is not in the name actually, but it is Russian
It’s especially painful that the city of Kharkiv is Russian-speaking.
I will speak candidly for it to be translated and for the international community to be informed about it.
150 metres from this church, there is The Russian Pushkin Drama Theatre. About 600 metres from here, there is The Kharkiv National University which has a department of the Russian language and literature. There are three to four streets close by named after the prominent Russian poets and writers: Pushkinskaia, Lemontovskaia, Dostoievskogo… They’ve come to denationalise what? Their own people and their language.
Do you understand what the core, the greatest pain here is?
That’s for one. For two, innocent people die. Does this church look like an ammunition warehouse or a serious military object?
We thank God that no one died here. There’s a bomb shelter here, people have been hiding here to this day. Because outside of the church, everything has been seriously hit.
…
The stained glass windows here are expensive work. They were made by very talented people. They weren’t made in a month or half a year. It took a lot of time.
A lot was damaged by a shock wave and there was also that cruise missile that hit the church.
…
The war has brought us much closer together, in all respects. Before, we would look and say, “Oh, there’s a Catholic there” or “Oh, there’s a Protestant there” or “Oh, there’s a Moscow priest there” — now we don’t have that.
A lot of people have left. I’ve been asked to leave myself.
…
In one second, after that strike, there were no windows, no doors, no electricity, hitting or water supply system anymore. It was scary. All the choir members, everyone… left the city.
But then we got ourselves organised—it was difficult to do it: to recover, to cry for all the destroyed beauty—and the same week on Sunday we were already having a service.
And when the people found out there would be a service, when they came to the service, especially the old people, they cried. They cried and laughed simultaneously because they felt like they weren’t abandoned. Not everyone can leave. Not everyone can abandon the sick, the disabled, their dogs, cats… Some people can’t for health reasons. Some people are afraid to leave. And some people don’t have anyone out there. We nurture them spiritually.
It’s a shame you weren’t here in the morning when we had the Easter service. We had a service in a destroyed church. All kinds of people came and the church brought them together. The religion, the faith.
They became more devout, they started to pray more. They became simpler. What brings me joy the most is the young people, the volunteers. A lot of them have cars and money, and everything, they could leave, but they chose to stay. They cook for hundreds of people, they unload sacks…
…
This is where it came from on the 2nd of March. The shockwave was of such power that the metal doors of 5mm thickness bent like paper.
Fortunately, no one got hurt. Here are the shrapnel fragments. I’ve already given away the biggest ones to the museum. This missile flew from around 400-500 km away, can you imagine? Either from the Black Sea or Voronezh. I can’t say for certain, of course. The Sewer manholes got open.
I feel pain. I lost people I was close with. They died because they hadn’t made it to a bomb shelter. I have a spouse and children myself. For me, it’s a great pain.
It used to be very lively here. The bells would ring, people would come to pray, and now there’s no one here.
Only five people live in the basement of that five-storey building. And eight people in our basement.
The Russian propagandists say that we shell ourselves. And many Russians think that way. That we shell ourselves, destroy our churches, kill ourselves. That’s the tragedy of our time.
I served the first years of my service in a parish in the Borovskii district. Now there are Russian troops there. The life there hasn’t just frozen — it’s rolled several decades back. There is robbery, there is marauding, there is rape there. I say it with great pain. I have a spouse, I have a daughter.
I was also told that they didn’t let milkmaids to a farm for four days. Can you imagine, it’s spring, there’s mass calving. The poor cows mooed out of pain because no one milked them. Someone let the cows out to a field so that they would at least roam freely.
