Hosting A Ukrainian Family & 'Doing Church'

To start at a generic beginning − the Church. Maybe one of the reasons for my family being a host for a refugee family from Zaporizhzhia (close to the Russian front) is Church. Or rather "doing Church". Although when I pick through the New Testament, I find all sorts of "Church". There is the utopian model in Acts 4. where all live in harmony and unity as pitted against the squabbling church of Corinth. Then the personal snapshots of the "house" churches in Paul's letters, followed by the critical analysis of the various churches by "the angel" in the Book of Revelations. The drive of Church in Matthew 18:16 – "go out, make disciples of all the nations" is the raison d'etre for many evangelical churches, while the gathering of the "church" at the last supper is the essence, as sacramentalised, in the liturgical churches.

However, it is the moral imperative of Jesus' parable of the Last Judgement, "when you did it to the least of my brothers, you did it to me" (Mt: 25;40), placed just before the narrative of his death and resurrection, that speaks more explicitly to me. Here, I see Jesus as THE sacrament and our response to his humanity and divinity as "doing Church". Probably this is a reason for us becoming a host to a refugee family. Maybe in modern CST (Catholic Social Teaching) talk, this is the principle of solidarity. Of course, all these expressions of Church are valid, and are reflections of the "Pilgrim People of God". But for me, it is this call – "you did it to me", the call of the sacrament of the other person − that is a very cogent expression of "doing Church".

Refugee Partnership

Another preliminary: I belong to the local Refugee Partnership - which again is "doing Church". It was actually initiated by Catholics but now is fostered mainly by the Anglican churches (we hold our meetings in a Quaker Meeting House). While there are a few from Islamic and other religious backgrounds, most of us seem to be from a Christian source that are driven by the moral imperative of seeing Christ in the stranger (not that we ever talk about this of course!). The Partnership tends to deal more with asylum seekers under the radar rather than those entering through more conventional or "legit" avenues. We befriend, signpost sources of financial assistance, provide legal direction and aid, tutor adults in ESOL as well as children in their schoolwork, etc. The partnership simply responds to the need of the stranger, the alien.

Which brings us to the Ukrainian family who have taken residence with us. So, maybe as well as "doing Church", by seeing the other as Christ, there is now the challenge of "doing the domestic Church" (Vatican II) as family Veltzaveta – Liza (mother), Sophiia (19-year-old daughter, 2nd year university student) and Semen (a six-foot fourteen-year-old). Back in Ukraine, Mischa, the husband, is on patrols in the army.

When the actual war (sorry "just annexation of Rus") started, I felt moved to think beyond the box. Our four children, bar one, have left home − except for their bulky possessions. So - why not? I cautiously approached my wife, a hard-working head of a Catholic school in Brent, London. "I have been thinking......." on which she turned to me: "You know, I have been thinking too!".

The next stage was the government website − Homes for Ukraine. There were trumpets and banners but not much action. It took us nearly a month and a half to connect with any actual Ukrainian refugees. It was only when we contacted the Ukraine Catholic Church in London that we hit a real action plan. They put us in touch with Opora, a refugee charity. Two days later we had six replies. Decisions! Finally, we chose a family that had older adolescents − as we had had experience in this and felt that such families would be more difficult to place. Liza, the mother, wrote back an effusive letter from Lithuania, where they had been holed up for two and a half months. We set up the link for the UK government machinery immediately and began to communicate. However, it took many turns of the screw before they finally received visas.

They finally arrived in late June this year on an evening flight to Luton, tired, apprehensive but hopeful. The next week saw them settled in, relaxing and trying out their school English on us. There were many things to do: declarations, job centre interviews, NHS applications, surgeries and dentists, universal credit set up; Even I found myself stumped with some of the bureaucratic entanglement. The school application for Semen was tough, as it came at the end of the school year. A Catholic school we applied to told us to forward his baptism certificate (they are not Catholics). Others did not get back to us. It was a stressful summer break trying to get somewhere and it was only on the second week of the start of the school year that we finally scored a place. And of course, the change of Semen's name to Simon was a must!

Rockets in Zaporizhzhia

From the start, though Liza and family were sociable, there was a reserve that indicated trauma. Liza told us that before they moved, every time the sirens begun, they would have to run for about half a kilometre to reach their bunker. A few days ago, Liza told me that she was finding it difficult to get to sleep because of the rockets in Zaporizhzhia and acute anxiety for her family and friends. Yet the remarkable take away I have from them is their resilience, Liza's in particular.

She tells me that one of her favourite English books was Anne of Green Gables and its message to be always joyful. One of the bonuses was when we took teaching English into our own hands. ESOL classes (English for Speakers of Other Languages) were in short supply, so we decided to teach it ourselves. As a retired English teacher, I set up the lessons and gave the family language books to quiz each other, among other exercises. For about an hour and a half in the afternoon we pursued a lively format of writing, reading, listening and speaking which was just as much sharing as learning. To me, this has been the highlight − the joy of sharing language and literature and with it ourselves. Yet another way of "doing Church".

It is difficult to live with another family and adjust to their habits and needs. There is the goldfish bowl tension with all our foibles and occasional flare-ups on display: Liza with her stroppy teenagers, us with the strain of our busy lives. Not exactly the smiley community of Acts. Yet much is done that sees Jesus gracing us in the stranger, the dispossessed, the struggling. Again, this works both ways. Liza's infectious laughter and Simon's funny ways, the sharing at meals when we eat together, the chats over the dishes, the revelation through them of the resilience of the human spirit.

I received a jolt when Liza, having had a disturbed night, sent me an email and then spoke to me the next morning. "What is going to happen to us when our six months are up? Housing is very difficult to get." I had been to a refugee forum a week before, so I very much appreciated this concern. All the agencies were reporting the fierce competition in the housing market. Many of the Afghan refugees from the airlift in Kabul are still holed up in bridging hotels. I really felt her trauma in this. Thank God I was able to reassure her that we will not abandon them and that they could stay on how long it takes to negotiate for their security. However, many other host families could well be struggling with this dilemma. Maybe like the early churches with catering for the marginalised. And having a government denying a cost crisis in all of this is not helpful.

So what about "Doing Church". Liza and family are not "Christian" and, except for a grace before our meals, Church is not an item on our agenda. It would be wonderful to talk about things of God, but we go where the Holy Spirit leads us. Meanwhile: "When you did this to the least of my brothers and sisters, you did it to me."

Jeffery Pratley spoke to the Hertfordshire Circle on 22nd September