The Mystery of Father Damascene Polivka

Founder of the Ukrainian Church in Winnipeg

published in: Serge Cipko ed., Ukrainians Abroad: News and Views, no. 46 (29 January 2010).

In OSBM habit c. 1895

An article entitled Winnipeg’s First Ukrainian Catholic Church has recently appeared in The Winnipeg Free Press.  The piece is a good summary of the beginnings  of the mother of all Ukrainian religious congregations in the city.  Nevertheless, it does contain a few factual errors.  One of them pertains to the founder of the congregation, Father Damascene Polivka.

The figure of Damascene Polivka is shadowed in mystery.  Concrete facts about his life history continue to evade us.  I attempted to discover more about this mysterious missionary when assisting St. Nicholas Parish compose its centennial history book, but my quest was in vain.  The principal difficulty was that key archival sources were not made available.  Thus, when St. Nicholas Ukrainian Catholic Church Celebrating 100 Years. Together for Tomorrow went to press, it left several historical details undiscovered, including the history of the parish’s own founder.

What little was known about Polivka came from publications of lesser historical value.  These contained precious few details about him, where he was mentioned at all.  His origins, details of his mission, and even the spelling of his name were not uniformly reported.  Photographs of him are extremely rare (I know of only two). He has been described as a Ruthenian missionary priest but of Slovak origin, a Basilian monk sent to Canada by the archbishop of Lviv, Cardinal Sembratovych.  Many details about his person and work appear to be contradictory, and equally mysterious seems to be his role in the foundation of a church congregation shortly before he left the city of Winnipeg one-hundred and ten years ago, never to return. 

I have been able to resolve part of the the mystery surrounding Polivka, including details of his origins and mission, by consulting his personal file in the Archives of the former Sacred Congregation de Propaganda Fide for the Affairs of the Oriental Rite, now contained in the Archives of the Congregation of the Oriental Churches. The documents contained under the rubric Monaci reveal the following:

Our missionary was born Adalbert Francisk Polivka on 4 February 1869 in the Bohemian village of Hostin u Vojkovic. His father was of Hungarian-Slavic (Slovak) origins. At the time, Bohemia (Czech), northern Hungary (Slovakia) and Eastern Galicia (Western Ukraine) were all part of a single state, the Habsburg empire of Austria-Hungary.  Even in Cyrillic, he always signed his name Polivka (Полівка) and not the Ukraininized Polyvka or Polywka (Поливка) that appears in most publications.  

In early life, Adalbert trained as a medical doctor and surgeon.  He spent a few years in the Latin-Rite congregation of the Brothers of Mercy.  In 1892, upon entering the Ruthenian Order of St. Basil the Great, he assumed the religious name John-Damascene or simply Damascene after the great Saint and Church Father.  The young Polivka had been encouraged to join this order-in-reform by his eponymous fellow Bohemian, Jesuit Father Adalbert Baudiss.  Baudiss was one of the protagonists of the Basilian reform and served as master of novices in Dobromyl, Galicia.  He looked on the young surgeon as having been sent “by Divine Providence” to minister to the medical needs of the impoverished, fledgling religious community.  But the Church law of the time did not allow the hands of priests, consecrated for the holy service of the altar, to be stained with blood, neither to fight in war, nor to practice surgery, nor even to hunt. Baudiss had to ask for a special dispensation from Propaganda Fide, which accorded his recruit permission to practice his medical arts but only within the monasteries.

In order to help the Basilian reform, Pope Leo XIII had granted the Order the right of receiving Latin-Rite candidates without any canonical dispensation.  At their final profession, the pontiff decreed that these monks were automatically to be transferred to the Byzantine Rite.  Polivka was one of several non-Ukrainians to make use of this privilege.  He professed his final vows in 1896 and was ordained a priest on 12 September of the following year.   

Although the Roman Pontiff had intended to favour the Basilians, the extraordinary privileges that he had conceded elicited fierce criticism from Ruthenian-Ukrainian society, which saw the Order as one of its few national institutions.  It was feared the Jesuits would attempt to Polonize the Order and, through it, Ukrainian society. By seconding such criticisms, Metropolitan Josyf Sembratovych was forced to resign his see.  Rome and Vienna thought that the Byzantine-Rite Ruthenians could not reform their church without outside help.  And thus, in the first years of the Basilian reform, the Jesuits allowed the Basilian communities to become cosmopolitan, in typically Austro-Hungarian fashion. 

As long as the Jesuits governed the Order, ethnic conflicts were kept at bay.  However, nationalistic tensions were brewing within the empire.  The Polish-Ukrainian truce (the New Era) had come to an end in 1895 and the Basilians began to take sides.  The Jesuits had already begun to entrust the governance of individual monasteries to reformed Basilians but several young Ukrainian fathers felt this was not enough. They began to call for the Jesuits to relinquish the governance of their Order altogether.  Seeing that they were unwanted, the Jesuits asked to be relieved but the Apostolic See would not permit them to abandon the reform until 1904.  Father Baudiss was among those who believed that the young community was not yet ready to govern itself.  Amid such tensions, those who appeared to take the Jesuits’ side began to experience discrimination from their confreres.  Those who were not Ukrainian ethnics, like Damascene Polivka, began to feel out of place in a community which was becoming increasingly nationalistic.

In March 1899, Polivka wrote to Propaganda Fide explaining that the negative, divisive atmosphere in the monasteries had broken his spirit.  He asked for permission to work outside the order for five or six years, perhaps as a missionary in Brazil.  When Cardinal Ledóchowski, Propaganda’s prefect, consulted provincial superior Father Mycielski, the latter attempted to have Polivka dismissed from the Order. The Cardinal rejected the Jesuit’s proposal and on 15 April 1899 granted Polivka permission to work outside his community for three years, under the jurisdiction of his local bishop, Cardinal Sembratovych.  A month later, on 16 April, Polivka had changed his mind about Brazil and asked instead for permission to become a missionary in Canada, informing the Congregation that he had written to the Canadian bishops.  In June he obtained the blessing of the Ukrainian bishops of Galicia and the funds necessary for the journey.  On 27 July, Bishop Legal of St. Albert, Alberta informed Cardinal Ledóchowski that he and his fellow bishops would be very happy to receive another Ukrainian priest, especially since the previous one, Paul Tymkevych, had become a renegade.  The Congregation duly granted permission for the mission on 20 August.  Just before leaving for Canada, Polivka wrote to Archbishop Langevin of St. Boniface asking for particulars about the mission and itemized the liturgical items that each Greek-Rite missionary needed to purchase.  

There was some confusion on the part of the Canadian hierarchy as to what kind of missionary was being sent.  Legal had written to Ledóchowski that he hoped a Basilian monk would do better where secular priests had failed.  On the contrary, the Basilian Order had not yet accepted a mission to Canada and Polivka was being sent not under the auspices of the Order, but as a secular missionary under the authority of his eparchial bishop.

Damascene Polivka had been instructed to go to St. Albert, Alberta, but instead he remained in Winnipeg.  Upon his arrival, on 21 October 1899, he immediately presented himself to the archbishop of St. Boniface who conferred jurisdiction upon him.  Langevin then left for Montreal where he remained for four months. Polivka wrote to Propaganda Fide explaining that he had chosen to remain where the largest group of Ukrainians had settled, as it was impossible to serve in all three western Canadian dioceses.  The Congregation did not appear to be satisfied with Polivka’s explanations as several question marks were penciled-in next to them in the margins of his letter.  

In the meantime, the missionary was given liturgical hospitality at Holy Ghost Parish, administered by the Polish Oblate Fathers.  Father Damascene insisted on the integral practice of the Byzantine Rite and soon caused a scandal by administering the Sacrament of Chrysmation (Confirmation) to Ukrainian infants. Since these had already been baptized by the Polish Oblates, the Latin faithful concluded that Polivka was re-baptizing them.  The  result was that Polivka was soon forbidden to celebrate Mass at Holy Ghost.  

In the meantime, the Ukrainians had formed a committee. On 8 December they invited Polivka to attend a meeting at which they resolved to buy land for the construction of their own church. In what is probably the earliest Ukrainian church document in Winnipeg, Polivka redacted a petition in both old Ukrainian and Latin to Archbishop Langevin, asking him to bless the project.  This undated petition (December 1899) was countersigned by 27 of the members of the church committee (as they appear on the document): 

Андрей Зайло, Николай Маковецкі, Thеоdorus Stephanik, Прокоп Скіба, Wasyl Rudko, Ілько Бабій, Anton Czerkas. Jan Spizak, Alek. Książyk, Гриць Прокопишин, Julian Bohońko, Michał Lenczak, Стефан Волошиньский. Wasyl Tankowсky, Aleksa Roszko, Іван Сидор, Василій Турчинюк, Petro Krasiuk, Юрко Паніщак, Stefan Cinnyk, Jan Piskosz, Michal Doda, Юрко Кобітикъ, Nicholas Małachowski, Mikołaj Powawoznyk, Jełyjacz Kostiuk, Olexa Haluszczak, Michał Palamar, о. Дамаскин Полівка.

Under pressure from the committee, Father Damascene telegraphed the archbishop in Montreal, asking for his blessing.  Langevin replied that the diocese was already heavily in debt, especially with the newly-constructed Holy Ghost Church which was to serve several nationalities. He further suggested that Polivka’s services were not needed in the city of Winnipeg but in rural Manitoba, where a larger number of the Ukrainians were without the services of any priest.  In the end, Langevin ordered Polivka to assume the mission in Alberta for which he had been commissioned and for which Bishop Legal continued to plead.

Instead of going to Alberta, in the first days of the new century Polivka left Winnipeg for Chicago and thence to New York where he was reported to have come under the influence of the clergy responsible for Svoboda, a newspaper which staunchly opposed the Roman Catholic hierarchy’s jurisdiction over the Eastern-Rite Catholics.  From the US and later from Montreal, Polivka wrote to his Winnipeg flock asking for donations and offering to return to serve them on two conditions: that they would support him financially and that they would not place the church property under the control of the Latin bishop. 

Disappointed with his lack of cooperation, Langevin petitioned Propaganda to recall Polivka to Europe.  At the same time, the prelate penned a courteous letter to Vasyl Rudko of the Ukrainian church committee, explaining the reasons for opposing their project.  In this letter, the archbishop asked the Ukrainians to be patient and not to have any further contact with Polivka, whose jurisdiction he had withdrawn for disobedience.  On 9 February 1900, Cardinal Ledóchowski wrote to Father Mycielski asking him to recall Polivka to the monastery but Mycielski replied that he would be a bad influence in the reformed communities. Mycielski nevertheless promised to ask the superior of the unreformed Basilians if he could assign Polivka to the empty monastery-parish of Krasnopuschna.  Polivka, however, refused this proposal.  He argued that his three-year leave had not yet expired and that his congregation in Plymouth, Pennsylvania would be in danger of falling into schism if he abandoned them.

In Windbeer about 1905.

In June 1900, Polivka wrote to Propaganda’s Prefect from Plymouth, explaining his side of what had happened in Winnipeg.  He placed the blame on the Oblates who were worried about their church debt, and on the Ukrainian committee that had rebelled against the Roman Catholic authorities.  On 3 May 1901, this time writing from Northampton, Pennsylvania, Polivka informed Cardinal Ledóchowski that he could not find a European bishop to accept him so he asked to remain in the United States.  On 16 September 1903, Bishop Garvey of Altoona asked for Polivka to remain in his diocese and continue to minister at the Greek-Rite Church in Windbeer.  The same day, Polivka petitioned Ledóchowski’s successor, Cardinal Gotti, to become a diocesan priest.  Bishop Garvey confirmed that he was willing to accept Polivka as one of his priests in a letter to Cardinal Gotti dated 18 January 1904.

Previously, in December 1903, the Austro-Hungarian chargé d’affaires to the Holy See sent a curious document to Propaganda Fide.  This document contained a  list of Ruthenian Greek-Catholic priests residing in the USA that his government wanted to see recalled, undoubtedly for political reasons.  The first name that appears on the list is “Damascene Polivka, parish priest in Windbeer, Pennsylvania”.  Two other priests who had served in Winnipeg appear: Nestor Dymytriv in Northampton and Nicholas Strytynsky in Olyphant, Pennsylvania.  These priests had one thing in common: they were all connected with Svoboda and had, at one time or another, functioned as independents, essentially Greek-Catholics who did not want to become Orthodox but who had difficulties with the local Latin hierarchy.  Even though Polivka had agreed to serve at The First Slavish [Slavic] United St. Mary’s Greek-Rite Catholic Church in Windbeer, Bishop Garvey’s good dispositions towards him demonstrate that Father Damascene had never broken communion with the Catholic Church.  In this, his explanation to Cardinal Ledóchowski rings true: “it was a rebellion not on my part but on the part of the people... It was rather the people, but not me!”

On 8 October 1905, Polivka sent a petition to Pope Pius X asking to return to the Latin Rite, giving the reason that the married clergy and Ukrainian nationalists were persecuting him. On 16 January 1906, Propaganda released Polivka from his monastic vows, transferring him to the diocesan clergy.  On 29 February 1906, Bishop Garvey wrote to Cardinal Gotti that he had given permission to Polivka to return to his native Bohemia for health reasons.  The last letter in the file was written by Polivka from Krpy-Vrutic, Bohemia on 13 March 1906 asking for the indult to return to the Latin Rite because he had no way of supporting himself financially and all his money had gone to medical cures.  How ironic that a physician who had volunteered to heal and to alleviate the financial burden of a religious order was himself reduced to sickness and poverty.

After this letter, Polivka vanishes from history.  Even the renowned collector of historical data, Father Dmytro Blažejovskyj, was not able to obtain accurate information about Polivka and his whereabouts.  In his Ukrainian Catholic Clergy in Diaspora, Blažejovskyj erroneously listed Polivka as having been born in Subcarpathia instead of Bohemia, as having been stationed in Northampton from 1899 to 1900 and as having been in Galicia from 1901 to 1903.  No mention was made of his service in Plymouth or Windbeer. The last accurate news we have of Polivka places him in Bohemia in March 1906, but what happened to him subsequently?  After leaving the Basilians and returning to his native rite he no longer fell under the jurisdiction of Propaganda Fide for the Oriental Rites. Thus all further trace of him is lost in this Congregation’s archives.  Did he remain in active ministry? Did he serve as a Latin-Rite priest in his native land?  Where did he die and when?  Hopefully further research will solve these mysteries.

      Some of the mystery surrounding Polivka appears to be man-made. Perhaps embarrassed by the fact that Polivka had left their ranks and had fallen out with the Catholic bishops, Basilian chronologists have tended to play down, if not ignore, his role in the founding of their Winnipeg parish.  Facts pertaining to him have been glossed-over, as in a passage by the late Dr. Modeste Gnesko reproduced in St. Nicholas’ centenntial history, which was taken from the 1966 booklet commemorating the opening of the present church.  An English translation of the passage in question reads: “Residing far away from the Winnipeg congregation, he often wrote to it, encouraging it and supporting it spiritually and morally. In addition, he sent monetary offerings for the future church. Impressed by his advice and example, the people resolved to finish the work [that had been] initiated.” Vatican archival sources contradict this account, so the question arises: did Father Gnesko have access to primary sources which were not made available for the composition of the parish centennial history, or was this simply an well-meaning attempt to whitewash inconvenient facts?  

Polivka’s unsuccessful mission made Archbishop Langevin swear that he would never accept another Greek-Catholic priest.  However, following a meeting between his vicar general Father Lacombe and Metropolitan Sheptytsky, and the Vatican’s appointment of a Greek-Catholic apostolic visitor for Canada, the prelate was induced to change his mind. Propaganda Fide had been after the Basilians to assume the mission in the US and Canada since 1893, but the Order’s superiors had always refused.  Finally, in 1902, three Basilian missionaries were sent to Alberta, and two more arrived in Winnipeg the following year.

   And what about the church congregation that Polivka helped found?  In 1901, two years after his departure from Winnipeg, a tiny chapel dedicated to St. Nicholas was constructed on property acquired by the committee. Historical sources demonstrate that the congregation identified itself as Greek-Catholic, even though they did not accept Archbishop Langevin’s jurisdiction.  Despite this fact, clergy of various religious allegiances were permitted to use the chapel until the arrival of two Basilian Fathers in November 1903.  At that time, the congregation asked the Basilians to assume the direction of their church.  Archbishop Langevin paid for the construction of a larger temple (velyka tservka) which was opened in January 1905 and located directly across the street from the original chapel.

But not all segments of that single Ukrainian congregation agreed with the Basilians, nor did they like the fact that their church had been brought under the authority of the Latin archbishop.  Consequently, part of the congregation left to found Holy Trinity Russian Orthodox Cathedral, which was consecrated by future Russian Orthodox Patriarch St. Tikhon in 1905.  Two years later, in 1907, a more nationalistic portion returned to the first tiny chapel (mala tserkva) and renamed it Sts. Vladimir and Olga, the future Ukrainian Catholic cathedral.  Another part of the flock formed the Greek-Independent Church and in 1917, a further segment helped create the Ukrainian Greek-Orthodox Church of Canada.  

The Basilians were far from alone in attempting to "remake" history.  In 1936, Father Vasyl Kushnir, the parish priest of Sts. Vladimir and Olga, published a commemorative Almanach that contains a fictional account of the beginings of his parish.  Orthodox publications went so far as to claim that the first church was not even Catholic or that the Uniates separated later.  It seemed to have been important that each successor church lay exclusive claim to the first church, just as their brethren in Ukraine fought over Hagia Sophia in Kyiv.  What is certain is that many if not all of the leaders of these churches were part of the original St. Nicholas congregation, co-founded and served by the mysterious missionary, the Bohemian-Slovak Greek-Catholic onetime Basilian Father Damascene Adalbert Francisk Polivka.

Reforms of the Basilian Order

"When reform is dissociated from the hard work of repentance, and seeks salvation merely by changing others, by creating ever fresh forms, and by accommodation to the times, then despite many useful innovations it will be a caricature of itself. Such reform can touch only things of secondary importance in the Church. No wonder, then, that in the end it sees the Church itself as of secondary importance." (Josef Ratzinger (Benedict XVI), Presentation to the Catholic Academy in Bavaria on the question of Church Renewal, 1971).

In the history of the Ukrainian Greek-Catholic Church, of all religious communities, the Basilian Order of St. Josaphat maintains the pride of place as the most significant religious and cultural contributor. Over the centuries, the Order has undergone several reforms which have changed its identity and mission. In this article, I will present an outline of these reforms together with a reflection as to their significance for the Basilians’ historical and contemporary mission within the Church.

Before addressing the subject of recent reforms of the Basilian Order, we should have an idea about what the term “reform” meant in the past and what it means today. Today, reform is understood to mean discarding what is old and no longer useful and adopting what is new and fresh. In modern philosophies, new is considered to be better than old, and change for the sake of change is considered a sign of life. In former times, change was perceived as a sign of decay, as it is in nature. The past was considered a model for the present and changes, improvements, indeed reforms, were meant to bring a thing back to a pristine form which, ideally, was supposed to be better. This is the etymological meaning of the word re-formatio itself, to bring a thing back to its original form, not to give it a new one. Even though the intention was to bring things back to a former state, in hindsight, we can say that change indeed did occur, old realities ceased and new ones came into being.

The idea of bringing things back to an original state was the mindset behind the first Basilian “reform”, if we can call it that. Byzantine Christian monasteries generally followed the Rules Saint Basil the Great (329-379) developed by Saint Theodore Studite (760-826). The name “Basilian” was first used by Latin Catholics as a generic name for Greek monks in Southern Italy. In the sixteenth century, monastic life in present day Ukraine and Belarus was undergoing a period of laxity and decline. Immediately following the Union of Brest, two monks of the Holy Trinity Monastery in Vilnius, Josyf Veliamyn Rutsky and St. Josaphat Kuntsevych, intended to bring what they understood as an already existing “Basilian Order” back to its pristine state. In a formal sense, no such unified religious order existed. Monasteries that followed the Basilian or Basilian-Studite rules were independent of one another and fell under the jurisdiction of the local bishop. Rutsky and Josaphat’s 1617 reform actually created a new religious order along the lines of the semi-monastics of the west (the mendicants), such as the Dominicans, Franciscans, and Carmelites.

Taking its name from its first Vilnius monastery, the new Congregation of the Holy Trinity of the Order of St. Basil the Great spread and flourished across modern day Belarus and Ukraine and played a key role in the education both of laity and clergy helping preserve the distinctiveness of the Ruthenian-Ukrainian culture. Being the only religious order in the Kyivan Church, all Ruthenian bishops were chosen from among its ranks. The Basilian order was considered to be the backbone of the Uniate Church but it was virtually suppressed by outside political interference, after Russia and Austria partitioned Ukrainian lands at the end of the eighteenth century.

If we count the 1617 foundation as a reform, then the second major reform would be that of Dobromyl, began in 1882 (although several smaller reforms had taken place in the 18th and 19th centuries). We might call this the first recent Basilian reform, one that had direct consequences for the Ukrainian Greek-Catholic Church in the homeland and abroad. Austrian state interference in Church affairs, known as Josephism, proved beneficial in revitalizing the Greek-Catholic Church as a whole, but also led to the decay of monastic communities such as the Basilians. By the 1870’s, both government and Church officials had become alarmed at the growing influence of Russophilism in Ruthenian society, but it was the liquidation of the Kholm Eparchy by the Russian Empire, in 1874, that proved to be the catalyst that sparked the reform. Polish Jesuits from Austrian Galicia were secretly sent into the Kholm region to assess the situation. As a result and as a remedy to the Kholm situation, Jesuit superior Father Henryk Jackowski devised a plan to reform and revitalize the Basilian Order, virtually re-organizing it from its foundations. The Basilian provincial superior (protohegumen) Klymenti Sarnytsky sent a letter to Rome, asking for the Jesuits to enact this reform, and Pope Leo XIII confirmed the request with his apostolic letter Singulare Praesidium of 12 May 1882. Named after the site of the first reformed monastery, the Dobromyl Reform lasted until 1904, when the governance of the Order was given over to the newly reformed Basilians.

The Dobromyl reform had been designed to strengthen the Greek-Catholic Church for two main reasons: as a defense against the Russophile movement (political and religious) and to prepare dedicated celibate missionaries for work among the Orthodox populations, especially in the Russian Empire. As its mission was intended to go above and beyond Galician concerns, the Pope exempted the Order from the jurisdiction of the local bishops and substantially released the Basilians from a sedentary monastic schedule. The latter shift originated during of the Jesuits' drafting of the post-reform constitutions. The change was tolerated despite warnings by Vatican experts who foresaw that too many exceptions would endanger the order's original monastic identity.

Contrary to initial Ukrainian apprehensions, the reformed Basilians became staunch allies of the national movement. Perhaps Dobromyl’s most notable consequence was the formation of zealous missionaries and leaders for Greek-Catholic communities in the homeland and the Diaspora; among these were the great figures of Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky, Blessed Bishop Josaphat Kotsylovsky, Blessed Bishop Pavel Gojdych and other priest-martyrs and confessors of the Faith. Another positive consequence was that their semi-monastic regimen made the Basilians ideal for working among the Ukrainian peasants and in Ukrainian national and scholarly fields. This reform has been described by the prominent historian John-Paul Himka as “the most far-reaching response to the national movement from a Christian perspective.”

The Dobromyl Reform needs to be judged historically and by what it intended to accomplish. It did not intend nor could it resolve all of the needs of the Greek-Catholic Church nor the needs of religious life. It met a particular need of a particular situation during a particular historical period. Despite the fact that it was the only male religious congregation in the Ruthenian-Ukrainian Church, and a small fledgling one at that, the reformed Basilian Order was able to establish missions among the Ukrainian immigrants in Brazil (1897), Canada (1902) and other parts of Europe. In order to improve the quality and discipline of the secular clergy, promote celibacy and combat Russophile tendencies, the Ukrainian Bishops turned over to the Order’s direction the Greek-Catholic major seminaries in Rome (1904), Stanislaviv (1906), the wartime seminary of Kroměříž in Moravia (1915), and Lviv (1920).

The reformed Basilians were essentially instruments of Leo XIII's unionistic policy, which promoted respect for and return to the traditions of the Christian East in order to bring the Orthodox into communion with Rome. This policy was generally in force until the 1940's. Dobromyl did not intend to revive traditional oriental monasticism, something which one of the reformed Basilians, Metropolitan Sheptytsky, would address in creating the Studite communities. Indeed, Sheptytsky’s ever-deepening appreciation of his Church’s oriental heritage brought him into conflict with his fellow bishops and with the Basilians, who agreed with the generally-held hybrid model which Cyrille Korolevskij referred to as “liturgical uniatism”.

The character which the Dobromyl Reform had imprinted upon the thoroughly revamped Basilian communities can be said to have lasted, more or less intact, until the Second Vatican Council and beyond. However, imperceptible changes were taking place that would lead to a third (albeit minor) reform in the 1950's. Dobromyl achieved a major shift in attitude or in emphasis from an identity based on community to one based on mission. At first, this was hardly perceptible because the reformed constitutions were implemented in the large, older Basilian monasteries in Galicia. The missionary and other active work of individual members of the community did not affect the day-to-day monastic regimen, although the full Divine Office was only maintained in the novitiate monastery. However, a shift had occurred and the mindset had changed. The Order began to establish a large number of small mission-like communities that made even a semi-monastic regimen difficult if not impossible. Although their roots were monastic, in practice, the Basilians began move towards a lifestyle closer to that of the purely active congregations (like their mentors, the Jesuits) and away from that of the semi-monastic mendicants. With the liquidation of its original foundations in the Communist-bloc countries, the model for the Order's future essentially became the tiny missionary communities of the Diaspora, which were almost entirely orientated around parish apostolates.

The third reform codified this shift-in-emphasis into a new set of constitutions approved by the Apostolic See in 1955. These constitutions took into account both changes in Church legislation and in the growth of the Order. For instance, according to new requirements of the 1950’s, the profession of temporary vows for a minimum of three years was introduced before one was eligible to profess solemn, permanent vows. Also, since 1932, the Order had a new name, the Basilian Order of St. Josaphat, and had been divided into several provinces headed by a General Curia in Rome. The new constitutions gave the ancient title of protoarchimandrite to the superior general, a title that had been abolished by the Russian Tsar in 1804. Despite the return to nomenclature of an earlier period, a further shift in mindset-identity is apparent in the 1955 constitutions. For example, the term monasterium, used in the former constitutions to designate large, established communities, was changed to domus, as in the Jesuit Constitutions. Similarly, smaller outposts followed the Jesuit designation of residentia. According to the canonical classifications of the time, the Basilians fell under the heading of clerices regulares, a very general term meaning clerics (priests) who followed a religious rule. One could say that, at least from the 1950's, the clerices component was emphasized over the regulares one. Basilians were trained to be monks during their initial formation but, once they left the novitiate, they spent much of their mission engaged in the work of secular priests. Another example of a change in mindset revealed in terminology may be found in the fact that, in Basilian Diaspora parishes, the monastery is often referred to as a rectory, the term for residences of eparchial priests.

The Constitutions of 1955 were the last to have been formally approved by the Apostolic See. Not ten years later, the decrees of the Second Vatican Council necessitated another major reform. Each member of the Order received questionnaires and, based on the feedback received, an extraordinary Basilian General Chapter, held in 1969, issued experimental constitutions. With minor modifications in 1977, 1993 and 2002, these same constitutions basically have remained in force until today. Following along the lines of Latin religious Orders, the post-Vatican II reforms saw a significant change in the external formalities and obligations of religious life: external penances and the obligation to wear religious garb were relaxed. Despite the visible differences, the changes in the constitutions can be said to have been essentially cosmetic. As with the 1882 reforms, the most significant change after Vatican II was one of attitude. Immediately after the Council, Protoarchimandrite Athanasius Welykyj, especially through his annual letters to the whole order, inaugurated a new spiritual attitude of dialogue as opposed to blind obedience. An emphasis was placed upon personal responsibility, as opposed to external controls. Welykyj's wide, spiritual vision, however, was not always understood nor accepted by the local superiors, and his spiritual and scholarly inheritance remains largely unclaimed by the Order.

The principal task given to each religious community, by the Second Vatican Council’s decree Perfectae Caritatis, was to search for and to return to the charism of its founder. Essentially, the Council was asking for religious to more carefully define their identity and base their mission on it. This seemingly straightforward task was not so simple for the Basilians, as they had undergone several reforms and major shifts in identity. Postconciliar soul-searching revealed some cracks in the reality of the Order, which reflected unrefined seams still present from past reforms. Even the question of their founder’s identity proved to be difficult to answer: should the Basilians look for their original charism in the monastic communities of St. Basil, whose rules continued to be their spiritual guide? Were their origins not with the mendicant-style Order founded by Rutsky and St. Josaphat? Or should they retain the missionary and very clerical character imprinted on them by the late-nineteenth-century Jesuit reform?

The post-Vatican II Basilian constitutions also reflected the changed attitude of the Order’s superiors regarding liturgical matters. In the first half of the twentieth century, the Ukrainian hierarchy and clergy were divided down-the-middle as to whether or not the latinizations which had crept into their worship should be purged. The Basilians had generally opposed such reforms until a conflict occurred over the de-latinized liturgical books issued by the Apostolic See, beginning in 1940. This conflict resulted in the removal of the Order's interim vicar general and the suspension of priests who refused to use the new Roman editions. As a consequence, all post-1955 constitutions included stipulations for superiors to be diligent that only the approved liturgical books are used, although resistance has continued even until the present, particularly in the order of celebration for the Sacraments of Baptism and Matrimony.

The post-1969 constitutions were experimental, in order to allow Basilian communities throughout the world to put them to the test. After twenty-five years, the Order should have presented a definitive edition for approval to the Apostolic See. However, two key contemporary events prevented this from happening. In 1990, Pope John Paul II promulgated the Code of Canons for the Oriental Catholic Churches and, the same year, the Order was resurrected in Eastern Europe. The fall of communism allowed the underground Basilian communities to re-emerge and for the Order to re-establish its European provinces. These re-activated provinces, together with Ukraine, now held the majority of the Order's members but they had not lived through the turbulent experimental post-conciliar years. The period of experimentation had to be prolonged another ten years, in order that the European communities could integrate their experience of community life into the Basilian rules, and that these rules be made to conform to the stipulations of the new Oriental Code.

By far, the most significant change in the Basilian constitutions since 1969 has been the change in the selection process of their superiors. The Basilian electoral system was based on the highly centralized Jesuit model whereby all offices were appointed from above, rather than elected from below. A notable exception was the choice of the first reformed Basilian provincial, Father Platonid Filas, in 1904, who was selected by popular vote. Nevertheless, from the 1896 constitutions through to 1931, minor superiors were appointed by the Galician provincial superior (who acted as general superior) and his curia. These superiors automatically became members of the electoral chapters. This meant that that the collective membership of the Order had little say in the selection of their superiors, a fact which gave rise to concern among the Ukrainian Church hierarchy at the turn of the twentieth century. Metropolitan Sheptytsky drew attention to the fact that that a small group, made up of the major superior and his appointees, who numerically dominated each electoral chapter, had become a self-perpetuating ruling caste. As a result, Sheptytsky suggested that the electoral system be reformed in a way that would grant more authority to the members of the Order at large.

Little was done to reform this system until 1931, when the Order was divided into seperate provinces and the power to appoint minor superiors was given to the individual provincial superiors. After Vatican II, an indicative vote was introduced, granting consultation rights to the general membership of each province as pertaining to the selection of their provincial superiors. Nevertheless, the provincial chapters (made up largely of unelected Fathers) continued to select candidates without being bound to heed the indicative voice. These chapters then presented a ternary of candidates to the General Curia, which retained the power to appoint the Provincial superior and his counsellors. At the general chapter of 1996, a compromise formula was agreed upon in which the provincial chapters received the power to directly elect their curias, although those elected still require confirmation by the general curia. This current system gives more power to the largely unelected provincial chapters, but still fails to give adequate heed to the voice of the membership at large, as Sheptytsky had proposed. As an order of pontifical (that is papal) rite, however, the election of the general superior and his curia continues to require confirmation by the Apostolic See.

Basilian General Chapters of 2000, 2004, 2006 and 2008 have all struggled to agree on a definitive version of the constitutions to present for approval to the Apostolic See. Consistent with the norms and guidelines in place for such documents, the new constitutions are made-up of a permanent, general section for the whole order (called the pravyla or constitution) and a more specific section that can be amended from time to time called the pravylnyk or directory. This distinction had already been introduced in the earlier experimental constitutions. A novelty, which is to be introduced, is that each province will have its own directory, adapted to the local culture. Also, the new constitutions will be less wordy and rhetorical than previous versions.

The process of producing a definitive text revealed diverging tendencies within the Order as to which of its past reforms should be taken as the basis for its present identity and charism. Even the term and concept of charism was hotly debated, revealing that even the more educated among the chapter Fathers could be out of touch with contemporary Church Magisterium concerning religious life. In addition, a cultural, geographical and even an age divide was revealed in the Order: the older North and South American delegates being generally orientated to the Dobromyl/mission model while the younger European Fathers looked back to the Order's foundation of Rutsky-Josaphat as the basis for their identity.

Another point of debate was over the Basilian’s traditional five vows. In addition to the standard vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, post-1882 constitutions had added the Jesuit vows, one of obedience and submission to the Roman Pontiff and another not to aspire to higher offices or honours. The experimental constitutions of 1969 had reworded the vow to the Pope into a promise and discarded the vow to shun honours, although the latter was re-inserted in the 1993 text. Despite pressure based on spurious theological and canonical arguments, the General Chapter of 2004 voted to retain the oath of obedience to the Roman Pontiff in the original form of a vow, as in the last approved constitutions of 1955. Unfortunately, subsequent chapters have allowed it to be “linguistically rendered-away” into a promise.

One matter that appears to have been left untreated in the reforms of the Basilian rules is the question of the Order’s parishes. Before the First World War, with the rarest exceptions, Basilian churches did not enjoy the status of parishes. At first, in Diaspora mission territories, the Basilian mission acted as surrogate to eparchial structures. Later, due to jurisdictional and legal conflicts, the Order negotiated contracts with individual dioceses whereby their principal churches were given to the Order’s care in spiritualibus et in temporalibus, according to the canonical nomenclature of the time. This meant that the spiritual mission as well as the church property and all revenues (including collections) fell under the jurisdiction and ownership of the Order alone. The Second Vatican Council gave greater emphasis to the universal mission of the diocesan bishop and did away with the temporal-spiritual jurisdiction of religious orders in matters pertaining to the faithful. Therefore, all contracts negotiated with the Basilians lack their former canonical vigor, and yet, hitherto, neither the Basilian superiors nor the eparchial bishops have taken the initiative to renegotiate such agreements in the light of current Church law.

Another difficult question that remains unresolved concerns that of the Basilian‘s material assets and their relation to their own mission and to that of the Church. Over the centuries, through the bequests of benefactors and through a frugal and laborious life of communal religious poverty, the Order amassed large landholdings both in the Europe and in the New World. In the eighteenth and twentieth centuries, these properties and questions connected with them led to conflicts with the church hierarchy and to internal difficulties in the congregation itself. For instance, not ten years after the completion of the austere Dobromyl Reform, Metropolitan Shepytsky and his suffragens (two of them were themselves Basilians) had noticed that the Order’s superiors were already being appointed for their administrative skills and financial savvy rather than according to the spiritual and human qualities neccessary to be genuine religious leaders. They opined that the Basilians were spending too much time on oiling their worldly machinery, which distracted them from their Order’s rightful purpose and induced them to look after their own interests at the expense of those of the Church. The bishops further lamented that although Pope Leo XIII had decreed the Basilians were supposed to help the hierarchy, instead, the Order had become a competing parallel structure; in their words, “a church within a church”.

Returning to the latest Basilian reforms: based once again on feedback from the worldwide membership of the Order, the 2000 general chapter established a commission to produce a draft project of the definitive constitutions. This project was presented, voted upon, and modified by the 2004 general chapter, but later was rejected by the canonical commission which that chapter had created. The project commission had made the error of failing to take the last constitutions to have been approved by the Apostolic See (1955) as their starting point. A further complicating factor was the fact that the canonical commission and the project commissions represented the two juxtaposed outlooks of the Order; the former being composed generally of Europeans while the latter was led by canonists from the Americas. At the chapters of 2006 and 2008, the first project was largely reworked into a new text, which also incorporated the work of the canonical commission. This new draft was then amended and approved by the 2008 general chapter and was then presented to the Apostolic See for final approbation. For the first time in its history, the official text of the Basilian Constitutions is written in Italian as opposed to Latin. Official translations in Ukrainian, English, Portuguese, Spanish, Romanian, Slovak, Hungarian and Polish was also submitted for approval.  After examination by ecclesiastical consultants, what were to be definitive constitutions have again been approved only ad experimentum.
Although this article has described at length the various constitutions, these texts should not be equated with the reforms themselves; they are merely external and very partial reflections of the Basilian Order’s internal reality. If, in reading any given edition of the Basilians’ rules, we hope to find an accurate reflection of the Order’s lifestyle and mission, we will be dissapointed. To take only one example, the 1858 constitutions were very strict and very monastic but visitations revealed that the inidividual monks were leading decadent lifestyles and were entirely engaged by the bishops in parish work. Consistently, throughout its history, successful and lasting reforms of the Basilian Order have never emerged from the altering of their written rules. Instead, these rules were altered to conform to a shift in attitude, imparted by charismatic leaders such as Rustky, St. Josaphat, Jackowski and Welykyj. In contrast, Basilian zeal waned during periods when the Order was administered by pencil-pushers.

With vocations ever dwindling in the Americas, the future of the Basilian Order of St. Josaphat lies in Europe, especially in Ukraine. The main questions that the Order needs to confront, and which will determine its fate, were already expressed by the Ukrainian hierarchy at the turn of the twentieth century. These are: What is the role of the Order in the Ukrainian Greek-Catholic Church? What should be the Order's contribution to the religious life of our Church? What should be relationship of the Order’s churches to the eparchies? What human and spiritual qualities should be considered in choosing men as religious superiors? Should the Order reform its electoral system, allowing all the members an equal voice, to avoid the possibility of one caste perpetuating itself? How can the Order manage it’s wealth so as not to be managed by it? The final question which the Basilians need to address comes from the unfortunate reality of post-communist culture, but is also found in the decadence of the West, and that is: what is the Order’s attitude towards corruption in secular society and, where it occurs, even within its own ranks? This last issue will largely determine the place of the Basilians in the current life of the Ukrainian Church and also history's verdict as to its moral and spiritual contribution in the twenty-first century.

EVOLUTIO: On 14 July 2009, the Vatican office in charge of Latin-Rite religious communities issued instructions for the inspection of women's religous communities. The principal questions which each member of the community is called to answer are identical to those put forth in this post. Besides the fundamental questions about charism/identity and mission, the instruction clearly forsees the profession of additional vows (not merely promises), like the Basilian's (former?) vow of particular submission to the Roman Pontiff.

The Reluctant-to-Accept and the Reluctantly-Accepted Bishop

Count Andrei Roman Alexander Maria Sheptytsky

Published in Progress Ukrainian Catholic News, no.15/2144 (24 August 2008), pages 6, 10, and 11.

Of the many Ukrainian national and religious leaders of the twentieth century, a name stands out as representing a universal father-figure. His name was reviled during the Soviet period not only because of its Catholic overtones but also because it had become synonymous with the defense of the persecuted Ukrainian identity. This name is Andrei Sheptytsky, Metropolitan of Halych, Archbishop of Lviv, Bishop of Kamianets-Podilsk, Primate of the Ukrainian Greek-Catholic Church and extraordinary Apostolic Exarch for the Eastern-Catholic Church in Russia. Surprisingly, however, during the early days of his career, Sheptytsky was not regarded very positively by Ukrainians. This article reveals key events in the hitherto untold story of how a young Polish aristocrat became a Ukrainian monastic priest, reluctantly accepted the burden of the episcopacy and was reluctantly accepted by the political leaders of his flock as their spiritual father.

The future Kyr Andrei entered the world as Count Roman Alexander Maria Szeptycki (Polish spelling). His father’s lineage was an ancient Ruthenian (as Ukrainians were once called) noble line which had adopted the Latin Rite and become Polish. Roman was born in 1865 at Przylbice (Prybylchi) in the Kingdom of Galicia, a portion of Poland which had been partitioned to Austria in 1772. At the time of his birth, the Austrian empire was rife with political tensions between its component nationalities. The following year (1866) saw a crucial military defeat for Austria, which hastened a radical, internal state reform along national lines. A year later, in 1867, the emperor divided the government of his realms, creating the dual-monarchy of Austria-Hungary. Two additional consequences of this compromise were the granting of parliamentary ministerial government and the handing-over of political power in Galicia to the Polish aristocracy. These two decisions would come to have a major effect on the process of choosing future leaders for the Greek-Catholic Church.

Virtually all of the Ruthenian nobility had adopted the Latin Rite to secure a political and social position. This left the clergy as the nation’s leaders and foremost among them was the metropolitan of Halych, who had inherited the Greek-Catholic primacy when, in 1807, Pope Pius VII transferred it from Kyiv (under Russian domination) to Lviv. The metropolitan commanded great political authority among the Ruthenians and promoted a policy of absolute loyalty to the ruling Habsburg dynasty in exchange for political concessions. However, by the 1860’s, the Ruthenians were developing their own educated laity and political class. By handing political power to the Poles in 1867, Austria had dealt a severe blow to the authority of the Greek-Catholic hierarchy. Believing that their nation had been sacrificed by Austria, Ruthenian leaders began to look towards Russia for political and spiritual fulfillment. This movement became known as Russophilism and it represented a serious threat to Austrian rule and to the Catholic Church in Galicia.

In the 1880’s, the Apostolic See of Rome had also turned its gaze towards Russia. The Vatican shared Austria’s fear that this aggressive Orthodox empire (and its international arm of pan-slavism) would continue to severely persecute any Catholics who fell under its rule. Nonetheless, Pope Leo XIII took a positive approach to the issue by seeking to improve diplomatic relations with the Tsarist regime. This new openness accorded with the optimism that was being expressed by Russian thinkers such as Vladimir Solovëv, who began to look positively towards Rome as the centre of Christian unity.

Pope Leo’s vision was far from Austrian political concerns. In Galicia, spiritual Russophilism within the Greek-Catholic Church seeped over into political Russophilism in Ruthenian society. The Austrian government admonished the Greek-Catholic hierarchy to curtail the movement, but throughout the 1870’s Russophile clergy succeeded in occupying the chief administrative posts of the eparchial consistories. In the early 1880’s, certain radical Russophile leaders openly declared their Russian sympathies and one parish even attempted to break with the Catholic Church (hitherto, there had not been a single Orthodox church in Galicia). The Austrian government reacted by sentencing the ringleaders and calling for the removal of Metropolitan Josyf Sembratovych, together with leading clergy. After years of delaying, it also agreed to subdivide the enormous archeparchy of Lviv by creating a second eparchy of Stanislaviv. In doing so, it hoped to lessen the authority of the Russophiles who held sway in Lviv. As a final measure, Austria sanctioned the Galician Jesuits reform of the Basilian Order, the only Ruthenian religious order then in existence.

There remained the problem of a shortage of acceptable episcopal candidates. The government was looking for bishops who would be both loyal and capable administrators. For the sake of the public peace, it sought candidates who would be acceptable to the Ruthenians and, at the same time, not antagonistic towards the Poles. The Apostolic See, meanwhile, was looking for zealous reformers who would not only decrease the influence of Russophilism but also strengthen the Church’s bonds with Rome. Looking beyond the backwater of Austrian-Galicia, Rome viewed the Ruthenian Church as an ideal base from which to spearhead a mission to Russia and the Orthodox world.

One of the major limitations concerning candidates was the lack of unmarried Ruthenian clergy. From the Union of Brest (1596) until the end of the eighteenth century, only Basilian monks were eligible to become Uniate bishops. While Austrian reforms generally strengthened clerical and educational institutions, they weakened monastic communities, thus leading to in a period of decadence among the Basilians which resulted in a lack of suitable candidates from their ranks. However, by the 1870’s, choosing Basilian bishops was again becoming a necessity, for Rome began rejecting all widowers, further narrowing the list of eligible secular priests. In 1891, the Greek-Catholic Synod of Lviv followed up by incorporating the exclusion of widowers into its own particular church law.

Enter Roman Sheptytsky who, socially speaking, had the world at his feet but having been brought-up in a very pious familial setting, it is not surprising that he gravitated toward a religious vocation. In this decision, he was much influenced by one of his mother’s spiritual advisors, Father Henryk Jackowski, Provincial of the Galician Jesuits. Jackowski also happened to be a protagonist in Pope Leo’s plan for the Greek-Catholic Church in Russia and the Basilian reform. Accordingly, the young count decided take part in Jackowski’s project-in-the making and join the Ruthenian Basilians, even though he had been brought up in the Latin Rite. His family initially expressed opposition but later acquiesced when they became convinced, with Jackowski’s help no doubt, that the new Basilians were destined to be of better spiritual calibre than the Greek-Catholic secular clergy.

Entering the Basilians in 1888, Sheptytsky took the monastic name of Andrei. Quite independent of his superior upbringing, the young monk’s spiritual and intellectual qualities were quickly noticed by his superiors. Ever watchful of his progress, Jackowski continued to entrust Father Andrei with key positions in the reformed order. Soon after his priestly ordination, in 1892, Sheptytsky was the first reformed Basilian to be appointed to the crucially important position of novice master. Four years later, he became the first reformed superior of St. Onufri monastery in Galicia’s capital city of Lviv. By all accounts, the young levite was entirely focused on the religious life, free of any desire for greater leadership outside of his religious community.

Such a naturally and spiritually gifted individual could not go unnoticed by religious and civil authorities, especially in view of the lack of celibate episcopal candidates. Besides his personal qualities, Father Sheptytsky fulfilled all Rome’s prerequisites: not only was he unmarried but he was prayerful, zealous and a convinced follower of Pope Leo XIII’s policy of respect for the traditions of the Eastern Churches and openness to Russia. In addition, he was not antagonistic to either the Latin Church or Polish society, in which he had been educated. Such qualities endeared him to a fellow Polish nobleman who was the head of the Vatican department in charge both of worldwide missions and also the Eastern Catholics. This man was Cardinal Mieczyzlaw Ledóchowski, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation de Propaganda Fide.

1. Candidate for Przemysl, Lviv and Stanislaviv

Archival sources show that, only four years following his priestly ordination, in 1896, Sheptytsky was already being considered to replace the recently deceased bishop of Przemysl (Peremyshl). This nomination was premature and his Jesuit superiors begged Cardinal Ledóchowski to pass over the candidacy for the time-being, considering the vital role this young monk was playing in the delicate beginnings of the Basilian reform. In the end, the primate, Cardinal Sylvester Sembratovych (nephew of ex-metropolitan Josyf) proposed Canon Konstantyn Chekhovych, having omitted to mention that he was a widower. Two years later, Sembratovych himself was on his deathbed and asked for a coadjutor-bishop, again presenting one of his widower canons. This time in the know, Propaganda Fide replied that it was impossible to exempt from the laws of the Synod of Lviv (which they had worked for so many years to achieve). In the meantime, Cardinal Sylvester died before being able to present an alternative candidate.

Obtaining a successor was not a simple matter for the nomination process had become very complicated. First of all, since the Union of Brest, the Greek-Catholic primate held the privilege of nominating his suffragen bishops, not by right but in the name of the Apostolic See. The metropolitans of Halych partly inherited this privilege by being able to present three candidates to be vetted by Propaganda Fide and the papal secretariat of state. However, the Holy Roman (Austrian from 1804) emperor also held the personal privilege of presenting episcopal candidates within his realms. With the introduction of ministerial government, candidates had also to be approved by the foreign ministry and the ministry of religion. In Galicia, the local viceroy also had to be consulted. The Apostolic See was not happy with government intrusion and the nuncio reminded the emperor that the privilege of presentation was accorded to him alone, not to his ministers. In addition, the liberal ministries of the 1870’s sought confrontation with the Vatican, initiating an ever-growing conflict over episcopal appointments. This situation made it exceedingly difficult to find a candidate who was simultaneously acceptable to the Apostolic See, to Ruthenians, Poles and to all levels of government.

By 1897, Father Andrei Sheptytsky was the favoured candidate in both Vienna and Rome but not in Galicia. Ruthenian political leaders were extremely wary of Polish manipulation of their most important national institution, their Church. They had reacted strongly against the Jesuit reform of the Basilians and had been further alienated by Cardinal Sembratovych’s attempts at détente with the Polish Galician rulers (known as the New Era). The Ruthenian press had predicted that Sheptytsky’s entry into the Basilians was an attempt by the Poles to control their church from the inside. Sembratovych himself had explicitly excluded the young Basilian as his successor but for just the opposite reason; he feared that Sheptytsky would show inordinate zeal on behalf of the Ruthenians, thus upsetting the political balance that he had worked to establish.

With the cardinal primate’s death, the responsibility for the nomination passed to Emperor Franz Josef, a devout Catholic who attempted to mitigate conflicts with the Church. Already at the end of the previous year, His Imperial and Royal Apostolic Majesty had heard favorable reports of Sheptytsky, no doubt from his Polish-Galician ministers (although Sheptytsky’s biographer, Cyrile Korolevskij, erroneously assumed that “his name was not known in Vienna”), and promised the nuncio that he would favour the candidacy. But when the nuncio suggested Sheptytsky to the government, Galician leaders once again urged caution. This time it was the viceroy, Count Leon Pininski, who repeated the same objections as the late Cardinal Sembratovych. He also suggested that, at thirty-three, two years shy of the canonical age, Sheptytsky was too young and inexperienced to become metropolitan-archbishop directly. Pininski proposed that the older and more experienced Bishop Chekhovych be transferred to Lviv and that Sheptytsky be made bishop of Przemysl. Propaganda Fide rejected the proposal outright for two reasons: firstly, Chekhovych was a widower, a state that was unsuitable for Greek-Catholic primate; secondly, Chekovych was held to be weak, and the Holy See reminded the government about the problems created by the last metropolitan who had been soft on Russophilism. In any case, Cardinal Ledóchowski had always favoured Sheptytsky and he continued to press for his candidacy.

The government then proposed promoting the aged Bishop Julian Sas-Kuilovsky of Stanislaviv and assigning him a Basilian auxiliary-bishop, who would begin to combat Russophilism by assuming the direction of the Lviv seminary. Sheptytsky was then to replace Kuilovsky in the small Stanislaviv diocese, in order to gain experience. This plan was acceptable to all concerned except Father Andrei, who had no such ambitions. He had already refused the nomination to Przemysl, two years previously, and was uncomfortable with the pressure that the government was exerting. In a desperate attempt to resist, Sheptytsky wrote three letters to the Apostolic See refusing the episcopacy, claiming that he was “unworthy” of the honor. The Jesuits, however, had grafted two special vows onto the Basilian constitutions: the first to spurn promotions and the second of particular obedience and submission to the Roman Pontiff. With the second vow in view, Sheptytsky had to include the proviso that he would only accept if ordered to by the Pope and such was indeed the will of Leo XIII and his minister, Cardinal Ledóchowski, who had been cherishing such hopes for several years. Sheptytsky’s refusal had also been prompted by his apprehension of the desperate moral state of Stanislaviv’s population, especially the clergy, imbued with Russophile tendencies. Thus, he made his acceptance of the imperial nomination conditional upon the government fulfilling its long-delayed promise of constructing a seminary for that diocese.

Having received the go-ahead from the nunciature, on 1 February 1899, Emperor Franz Josef simultaneously presented the names of Bishop Julian of the knights Sas-Kuilovsky and Andrei Count Sheptytsky to Pope Leo XIII, who announced their promotions in the consistory assembly of 19 June. Sheptytsky was ordained bishop in Lviv, on 17 September, by Metropolitan Kuilovsky, assisted by Bishop Chekhovych and Bishop Weber, the Latin-Rite auxiliary of Lviv. The following day, he was enthroned as bishop of Stanislaviv. The new Bishop immediately began a dynamic spiritual, moral and educational reform of his diocese. Not two months later, the apostolic nuncio was already praising his “rare qualities”, noting that “with prudence and caution, he has began to manifest an exceptional zeal in the government of his Diocese, where there is an extreme need to summon the clergy to a more disciplined life, which conforms to the priestly state.” Bishop Andrei’s “firm resolve” combined with his profound spirituality and warm attitude towards both clergy and laity won the hearts of the flock. Even hitherto skeptical Ruthenian-Ukrainian nationalists leaders somewhat changed their opinion of Sheptytsky from wariness to praise for his dedication to the people.

2. Nomination as Metropolitan-Archbishop

Like all Greek-Catholic episcopal nominations since the 1870’s, the 1899 nominations amounted to what had become the standard compromise between various interest groups of church and state. In addition, just before his formal nomination, Bishop Kuilovsky rejected Basilian Father Platonides Filas as his designated auxiliary-bishop and seminary rector. It was understood that the elderly bishop could not manage the large archdiocese alone and the government contemplated leaving aside Kuilovsky’s nomination altogether. At this point, Cardinal Ledóchowski made one last effort to propose Andrei Sheptytsky as metropolitan. However, since the emperor had already signed the presentation, Rome decided to go ahead, in the hope that the new metropolitan would accept Filas in time. It did not have long to wait for a solution to present itself because the infirm Kuilovsky died less than a year later, on 4 May 1900.

Now the path seemed to be cleared for the favoured candidate, Sheptytsky, who had gained experience and popularity in the eyes of his flock and of church and state leaders. The apostolic nuncio, Archbishop Emidio Taljani, stated that, “despite his youth, he possesses all the requisite qualities to become an excellent archbishop.” However, even this second nomination would not go as smoothly as planned. Papal secretary of state Cardinal Rampolla informed the nuncio of the Pope’s will that Sheptytsky accept the promotion to Lviv and that Father Filas replace him as bishop of Stanislaviv. This proposal appeared to acceptable to all when Sheptytsky traveled to Vienna to perform the bureaucratic procedures. There he was presented with a new condition by the government, which he and the nuncio both deemed unacceptable; a condition which had its root in the very foundation of the Stanislaviv eparchy.

In the eighteenth century, Austria took over the financial administration of the Church and established a Religion Fund to pay salaries and expenses. It had promised to found a third Greek-Catholic eparchy as far back as the 1780’s but continued to procrastinate. Finally, during the height of the Russophile scare, the government agreed to create the Stanislaviv eparchy but could not come to a final agreement as to how it would be funded. In relinquishing his office in 1882, ex-Metropolitan Josyf Sembratovych had been granted a pension by the Lviv Archeparchy. Upon his death, instead of returning the revenue to Lviv, the government planned to use part of it to fund Stanislaviv, thus exonerating itself of having to use the Religion Fund. Sheptytsky stood firm on refusing the nomination under such conditions, and submitted a clever counter-proposal containing the proviso that any decision on the Lviv revenues be subject to the approval of the Apostolic See.

Rome, however, chose not to challenge Austria on a financial issue, in view of the fact that negotiations for new bishops were becoming ever more difficult. The nuncio assured Cardinal Rampolla that, since the government was willing to defer financial negotiations, the emperor was ready to sign the nomination. It was precisely during this period of intense negotiation that Bishop Sheptytsky led a group of pilgrims to Rome to celebrate the Jubilee Year. There he met with Cardinal Rampolla, who instructed him to accept the nomination and to forward a report on the issue for a future decision by the Apostolic See. In an audience of 29 October 1900, two days before the emperor had signed his letter of presentation, Pope Leo XIII announced to the pilgrims that their bishop was to become the new metropolitan. The following 5 November, the Viennese nuncio was instructed to initiate the canonical process of collecting testimonies from three well-known priests, which was performed on 12 November.

As if the saga had not been complicated enough, Sheptytsky sent a letter to the nuncio on 11 December, placing the decision regarding the finances in the hands of the Pope. In the same missive, however, he resolutely declared that he was not willing to endure any further government pressure and, if necessary, was ready to renounce the episcopacy to return to the monastic life. Sheptytsky’s inflexibility can be further understood in the light of the fact that he had invested personal funds in Stanislaviv, expecting the government to fulfill its promise to fund a seminary on condition that he accept the episcopacy. As a result, the bishop was left financially destitute but his persistence succeeded in convincing the government to reduce some of its claims. Andrei Sheptytsky’s nomination as Greek-Catholic archbishop of Lviv was finally proclaimed at the papal consistory of 17 December 1900 and he was enthroned as metropolitan of Halych on 12 January 1901. Having agreed to Sheptytsky’s promotion, the government nonetheless suspended the nomination of his successor in Stanislaviv for another three years, until the financial issues could be resolved.

Already in the first months of office, the new Metropolitan surprised everyone by unequivocally supporting the national and political demands of his flock, just as Cardinal Sembratovych had predicted. Despite this fact, the Ukrainian national movement continued to be wary of the Polish aristocrat, whom they suspected of being a traitor in disguise. While Sheptytsky supported every honorable Ukrainian aspiration, he continued to be misunderstood by both Ukrainian and Polish nationalists. Many of them held anticlerical or even agnostic views, having been educated in Austrian legalist philosophy which looked upon the Church as an earthly instrument of the nation. With much prejudice and little foresight, Ukrainian notables continued to passionately oppose Basilian episcopal candidates, such as Platonid Filas and Josaphat Kotsylovsky, men who were to become defenders of the national identity and even protagonists in the formation of the short-lived Western Ukrainian state. While recognizing these faults, instead of withdrawing from the political forum “into the sacristy”, Sheptytsky challenged the intelligentsia and attempted to bring the teaching of Christ to the national movement. He also emasculated the Russophile movement by inaugurating a ritualist revival that was both faithful to his Church’s Kyivan roots and also to the unity of the Universal Church. It might be said that, in some respects, he beat the ritualist and political ideologues at their own game.

With the blessing of Leo XIII’s successor, Pope Pius X, Kyr Andrei also began a secret mission to establish an authentically Russian Eastern-Catholic Church. Remarkably, not only the Tsarist government but so too the fledgling Ukrainian government objected to this mission, both for nationalistic reasons.

Metropolitan Andrei’s breakthrough with the Ukrainian national movement finally came after he had been imprisoned. The Russians imprisoned him in Siberia, in 1914, because he was a danger to their plan to Russianize the Galician Ukrainians and to make them break their ecclesial unity with the Roman Pontiff. The Polish army confined him in his own archiepiscopal palace, in 1919, after they had captured Lviv from Ukrainian forces. The Polish Government tried everything to have Sheptytsky removed as Greek-Catholic archbishop of Lviv because he was an obstacle to their plan to Polonize the Ukrainians. Having failed to achieve their designs, when Sheptytsky attempted to return to his diocese from abroad in 1923, as the Pope has specifically commanded him, the Polish Government ordered that he be interned in Poznan, in an attempt to extract from him an unconditional oath of political loyalty. Notwithstanding Sheptytsky’s consistent resistance to government intrusion in Church affairs, he outlasted each one of the regimes that persecuted him. At the time, these regimes appeared to represent the greatest danger but Kyr Andrei understood that the moral condition of the individual human beings that constitute the nation had an infinitely greater and lasting significance. Throughout his episcopal ministry, Andrei Sheptytsky retained the “firm resolve” that had been credited him by the papal representative in 1899. In exile, former political leaders lost any effective voice in the homeland. The Metropolitan never fled persecution however, and he remained to comfort his people in their plight and was finally recognized by the nation a great hero and a moral figurehead. Most significantly, he remained a living martyrios, a witness to his people of Catholic unity and fidelity (not merely in theory but also in practice) to his spiritual Father, the Roman Pontiff, Successor of Blessed Peter the Apostle.