“Every day begins with morning Mass here at church, followed by the daily activities. Since I returned from the front, my first stop is always the post office, where I collect the packages sent by our donors,” says Father Vasyl Kolody, who leads the Greek Catholic Church of the Intercession of the Virgin Mary in Dnipro, in the southern part of the city. The area is made up of small houses with gardens, interspersed with visible signs of destruction from past attacks.
Dnipro is Ukraine’s third-largest city by size and population, and together with other towns in its oblast, it hosts the largest number of internally displaced people from territories currently occupied by Russia — 588,000 according to the April 2025 Internal Displacement Report by the International Organization for Migration. Here, the local church is a key hub for collecting and distributing aid to civilians and frontline soldiers. Father Vasyl coordinates a network of volunteers who work daily on several fronts to support those in need.
“We hold daily meetings to organize the distribution of food, essential goods, and more, depending on the needs and what we receive,” explains Father Vasyl. “Every day is different, but we don’t stop. Lately I’ve also been working with a mechanical workshop that helps repair military vehicles coming back from the front with fixable problems. We receive support from several organizations and private individuals, both local and international, and we do our best not to leave anyone behind.”
What are you currently working on?
Right now, we’re collecting supplies to send to soldiers, especially hygiene products like wet wipes. These might seem trivial in the face of a war, but they are essential in conditions where even washing is a luxury.
How has the war changed your life?
My life has changed radically because I’ve experienced firsthand what war means. With the conflict in Donbas in 2014, I became a military chaplain and began following soldiers on the front lines. In this new phase, following the full-scale invasion, I’m now supporting the families of fallen soldiers through psychotherapy, support groups, and of course, prayer. Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of speaking with both believers and non-believers who have shared their fears and suffering with me.
The war has turned our entire community’s life upside down, both materially and psychologically. Men, women, and children are no longer the same after experiencing bereavement, the destruction of their homes, fleeing to another place, or facing an uncertain future. Families who once lived normal lives are now mourning a son or father killed at the front, or a relative or friend who died in a bombing. We used to celebrate births, weddings, and the occasional funeral—now funerals have become the norm. We have them every day, unfortunately. The church tries to stand close to the families affected by the war and offer them a source of comfort.
How does the support therapy work, and how is it connected to faith?
I am a servant of God, and so I continue to rely on faith and spread His word. But the community needs many forms of help. My experience at the front led to the idea of offering psychological support for those returning from the war and those mourning a loss. These are critical transitions that people cannot face alone, and we want the church to always be a welcoming place where people feel safe. Many develop forms of depression, lose their sense of purpose, feel drained and empty, and we need to help them recover.
In these support groups, we also collaborate remotely, and each person participates in the way they feel most comfortable. The process can last from six months to a year and a half and includes various practices, including prayer. A key aspect is that these groups allow people to share a common pain. Sadly, they share similar losses, and we need to mend the bonds of communities that have been torn apart. Some people have gone abroad, others have had to move to new cities within Ukraine, forced to start over while carrying their trauma. We work with art therapy and also with simple moments of togetherness—like sharing a cup of tea—to rebuild the social fabric and the sense of community we’re at risk of losing.
You’re very active on social media. How has the digital world changed the approach to humanitarian aid?
I use social media a lot. I have several accounts and enjoy managing online communications because I believe it helps expand our reach and deliver aid beyond our immediate surroundings. I started with livestreaming the Mass, and every day at least 2,000 people connect to follow it. On Sundays, it goes up to 3,000.
Social media is also crucial for maintaining direct contact with foreign donors. One of our main supporters, for example, is a former schoolmate of mine who now lives in Spain—we’ve stayed in touch over the years. We also organize fundraising campaigns online to spread our message as widely as possible. We’ve even received aid from the United States through YouTube, which helped us buy tourniquets for soldiers—vital tools for emergency treatment in cases of heavy bleeding. These are supplies that can literally save lives.
What do you think about Ukraine’s future?
However this ends, Ukraine will be forever changed—and so will Europe and NATO. The Atlantic Pact as we know it won’t be the same. The United Nations, too, will have to prepare for a radical shift. The point of no return has been crossed in this and other wars. We’re witnessing a loss of influence and authority in international organizations, which undermines efforts to preserve or restore peace.
As Christians, we must believe that divine mercy will follow all this suffering. Unfortunately, I don’t believe the war will end anytime soon. And when and if it does, nothing will be solved overnight—there will be serious long-term consequences. We already see it: the sacrifices people are making, the trauma they endure, the horrors they witness—these things outlive wars.
From Ukraine, how do you view the international context?
We are facing an unprecedented wave of populism in both Europe and the United States, and that’s not encouraging. The era of profit has made human life expendable. Market upheavals dictate international policies, but they don’t wake people up from their slumber.
Russia will stop only when it sees that we’re no longer able to fight, that Ukrainians have exhausted their resources to keep going. Only then will it feel satisfied. The stance that the United States takes will be decisive. But for now, we’re heading toward an era in which nuclear resources are traded for a loaf of bread—and until the world realizes this, the war won’t end.
Cover picture shot by Ilaria Romano. All reproduction rights reserved.
