Source: Public Orthodoxy
Sergei Chapnin
Director of Communications at the OCSC of Fordham University and Chief Editor of The Gifts (Дары) Almanac
As an Orthodox Christian witnessing the systematic persecution of clergy and faithful in Russia, I find myself compelled to break the deafening indifference within our American Orthodox communities. My heart grows heavier each day as friends—priests I’ve known for decades—suffer for their faithfulness to the Gospel of peace.
Here, I must acknowledge that Ukrainians are dying daily under Russian aggression. At the same time, hundreds of pro-war priests from Russia actively support the war efforts in the occupied territories of Ukraine. I focus on the resistance within Russia itself—those who refuse to participate in this betrayal of the Gospel.
Some of these persecuted priests are my age-old friends; others I’ve known for only a few years. Their stories must be heard—stories of faith and confession in a totalitarian state that shatter the romanticized image of Russia as a defender of Christian values. Those clinging to the mythological “Holy Rus” cannot accept these truths.
Yet we must speak, for we are called to live in truth.
In May 2025, I completed “Religious Communities Under Pressure: Documenting Religious Persecution in Russia 2022-2025,” written at the request of UN Special Rapporteur Mariana Katsarova. As I compiled testimony after testimony, I felt the weight of each story pressing upon my conscience. This report reveals a coordinated campaign against religious voices who refuse to bow to state pressure. Yet within the Orthodox Church in America (OCA)—which received its autocephaly from the Russian Orthodox Church 55 years ago and maintains deep historical ties with Russian Orthodoxy—this crisis has been met with institutional indifference, a response I can no longer accept as ethically defensible.
The scale is staggering: over 100 religious leaders are subjected to various forms of repression. Among Orthodox Christians alone, 17 priests have been defrocked, 14 suspended, and 7 forced into retirement—not for canonical violations, but for refusing to bless violence or for simply praying for peace instead of victory. Two Christians have already died in custody.
Each number represents a face I know, a voice I’ve heard. Father John Koval was defrocked for changing a single word in the prayer after liturgy—replacing “victory” with “peace”—after being reported by his altar server. What makes this persecution uniquely troubling is the Russian Orthodox Church’s active participation. Unlike other religious communities facing only state persecution, Orthodox priests endure dual pressure from both civil and ecclesiastical authorities.
This coordination between Church and state represents a profound betrayal of Orthodox tradition. When the Church becomes an instrument of state violence, weaponizing ancient canons against those who preach peace, it ceases to be the Church of Christ. This isn’t merely a political crisis—it’s a theological emergency that strikes at the very nature of what it means to be the Body of Christ.
Yet here in America, where we enjoy religious freedom our Russian brothers and sisters can only dream of, our hierarchs maintain studied indifference. When bishops who could speak freely choose not to defend those suffering for proclaiming peace, they risk becoming complicit in the machinery of oppression.
Weeks ago, I wrote to Metropolitan Tikhon (Mollard), Primate of the OCA, requesting space for my persecution report at the All-American Council in Phoenix this July—not in the official program, merely as a side event. Six weeks later came the rejection: Father Alessandro Margheritino, the OCA Chancellor, cited “technical reasons”: I had contacted them too late, the program was finalized, and nothing could be changed.
Such bureaucratic formalism in the face of our fellow believers’ suffering defies comprehension. This isn’t about protocol or procedures but about the essence of our faith: solidarity with those who plead for support. Have we reduced to mere theory the call to “bear one another’s burdens” (Galatians 6:2) and “remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners” (Hebrews 13:3)?
How can I remain silent when young seminarians in Moscow have languished in an FSB detention facility since February, facing fabricated terrorism charges and being tortured for their Ukrainian heritage and anti-war convictions?
The OCA’s historical legacy makes this silence even more damning. During the Soviet era, our Church was a beacon of hope. Metropolitan Leonty, Archbishop John Shahovskoy, Fathers Alexander Schmemann, John Meyendorff, and Leonid Kishkovsky courageously spoke out against religious repression, championing Soviet dissidents. The same OCA that once gave voice to the persecuted now won’t even allow a side presentation about today’s suffering priests. What happened to us? How did we go from prophetic witness to institutional cowardice?
I understand the complexities. The OCA maintains representation in Moscow. But at what point do institutional considerations overshadow our obligation to stand with suffering members of Christ’s body?
The tragedy deepens through widespread ignorance among American Orthodox about these repressions—ignorance resulting from institutional decisions that prevent these stories from reaching our parishes and seminaries.
I feel called to share these hidden stories and stir our collective Christian conscience. We cannot preach about early martyrs while turning away from contemporary confessors—this is hypocrisy.
In June, I initiated an open letter to all members of the All-American Council, believing that the conscience of the faithful might be stirred even when institutional processes prove inflexible. This letter asks not for political statements but for basic Christian solidarity: prayers for the persecuted named by name in our liturgies, financial support for displaced clergy families, establishing mechanisms to receive and support fleeing priests, and honest dialogue about what it means to be Orthodox when our faith is weaponized for war. Some might ask, “Why should American Orthodox care about internal Russian matters?” The answer is simple: these are not merely Russian matters but Orthodox matters, and our historical bonds with Russian Orthodoxy make our silence even more painful for those who suffer.
I’m deeply grateful to those who have already signed—Christians from the United States, Canada, Mexico, Western Europe, and Russia (though Russian signatures cannot be displayed publicly for security reasons).
To those who argue the Church should remain “above politics,” I say: When clergy is punished for preaching peace, when prayers are rewritten to sanctify violence, when the Church becomes an arm of state security, this isn’t politics—it’s apostasy. The very nature of the Church as Christ’s Body is at stake. We face not a political question but a fundamental theological crisis about what it means to be Orthodox.
Others claim speaking out could endanger Russian Orthodox Christians. But silence hasn’t protected them—it has only emboldened their persecutors. Only international pressure and global Orthodox moral witness can provide hope.
The All-American Council opens on July 14, 2025. This is our moment of decision. Will we use this opportunity to stand with those who suffer, or will we let it pass in comfortable indifference? Time is running out.
We stand at a crossroads between comfortable indifference and costly witness, institutional preservation, and Gospel integrity.
I pray that we will choose to stand with those who suffer for the Gospel of peace, knowing that our response to this moment will echo through the years ahead. May we not be found wanting when our brothers and sisters need us most.
Your voice matters. Together, we can break this silence. Please sign our Open Letter at https://sobornost.cc/. Let us stand with those who suffer for the Gospel of peace. The All-American Council is coming.
