TheoEco, 7824 SW 118 Court, Miami, FL (2026)

06/25/2025

On the Kyiv Express, an Unexpected Encounter

When traveling to Kyiv, there is only one way to go: the long way.

With no airports open in Ukraine for international flights since the full-scale invasion in 2022, I usually fly into Warsaw and then catch the Kyiv Express—a sleeper train that departs in the late afternoon and arrives the next morning, just in time for lunch. A two-day trip, at best.

The express is not fancy by any means. The railcars are Soviet-era, and service is limited to a morning cup of tea or coffee—if you have cash. Ukrainian hryvnia is your safest bet, though this time the attendant accepted Polish zloty, which I had managed to withdraw from an ATM at the Warsaw train station. Once inside, the sleeper cars are comfortable enough, with decent bedding and warm blankets. The only real excitement comes at midnight: the double passport check at the border. First, the Polish border guards do their part in Chełm, and then the Ukrainian guards take over after the border is crossed. You definitely know when you’ve entered Ukraine.

This particular trip, however, was very different for me. My compartment companion was on his way to join the International Legion For the Defence of Ukraine. An ex-British soldier who had served three tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, Michael felt called to do his part in defending Ukraine. He was hoping to be trained and sent to the front.

What struck me most was how his primary concern wasn’t the danger ahead but simply finding the rendezvous point the next morning. The details provided to him had been sketchy at best. His only contact with the unit had been via someone on Telegram, and he was anxious he might miss them entirely. I was personally glad to have someone in the compartment who spoke English and liked to chat. We hit it off.

When we arrived in Kyiv, I introduced him to the Hotel Ukraine, where I was scheduled to have lunch with Fr. Roman Nebozhuk, a Ukrainian Catholic priest I had met through my mentor, Fr. Yaroslav Nalysnyk, in Boston. I invited Michael to join us, knowing that if anyone could help him find his contact the next morning, it was Fr. Roman.

Sure enough, Fr. Roman recognized the building in the picture from the Telegram chat and provided the details Michael needed to find his unit.

I heard from Michael this afternoon via WhatsApp. Not only had he found the International Legion, but he had also been accepted and was already in training.

I’m not entirely sure I helped him, since there is no greater danger than going to the frontlines as an infantry soldier. But Michael has tremendous experience and was excited to go. It seems to be a shared calling among those of us who come to Ukraine from the West. After lunch, Fr. Roman called us both brave and offered a prayer for us—but honestly, when I think of Michael, and especially the Ukrainian people who face daily attacks and sleepless nights under Russian drones and missiles, I feel like my own efforts pale in comparison.

This particular trip, however, was very different for me. My compartment companion was on his way to join the International Legion For the Defence of Ukraine. An ex-British soldier who had served three tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, Michael felt called to do his part in defending Ukraine. He was hoping to be trained and sent to the front.

What struck me most was how his primary concern wasn’t the danger ahead but simply finding the rendezvous point the next morning. The details provided to him had been sketchy at best. His only contact with the unit had been via someone on Telegram, and he was anxious he might miss them entirely. I was personally glad to have someone in the compartment who spoke English and liked to chat. We hit it off.

When we arrived in Kyiv, I introduced him to the Hotel Ukraine, where I was scheduled to have lunch with Fr. Roman Nebozhuk, a Ukrainian Catholic priest I had met through my mentor, Fr. Yaroslav Nalysnyk, in Boston. I invited Michael to join us, knowing that if anyone could help him find his contact the next morning, it was Fr. Roman.

Sure enough, Fr. Roman recognized the building in the picture from the Telegram chat and provided the details Michael needed to find his unit.

I heard from Michael this afternoon via WhatsApp. Not only had he found the International Legion, but he had also been accepted and was already in training.

I’m not entirely sure I helped him, since there is no greater danger than going to the frontlines as an infantry soldier. But Michael has tremendous experience and was excited to go. It seems to be a shared calling among those of us who come to Ukraine from the West. After lunch, Fr. Roman called us both brave and offered a prayer for us—but honestly, when I think of Michael, and especially the Ukrainian people who face daily attacks and sleepless nights under Russian drones and missiles, I feel like my own efforts pale in comparison.

This particular trip, however, was very different for me. My compartment companion was on his way to join the International Legion For the Defence of Ukraine. An ex-British soldier who had served three tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, Michael felt called to do his part in defending Ukraine. He was hoping to be trained and sent to the front.

What struck me most was how his primary concern wasn’t the danger ahead but simply finding the rendezvous point the next morning. The details provided to him had been sketchy at best. His only contact with the unit had been via someone on Telegram, and he was anxious he might miss them entirely. I was personally glad to have someone in the compartment who spoke English and liked to chat. We hit it off.

When we arrived in Kyiv, I introduced him to the Hotel Ukraine, where I was scheduled to have lunch with Fr. Roman Nebozhuk, a Ukrainian Catholic priest I had met through my mentor, Fr. Yaroslav Nalysnyk, in Boston. I invited Michael to join us, knowing that if anyone could help him find his contact the next morning, it was Fr. Roman.

Sure enough, Fr. Roman recognized the building in the picture from the Telegram chat and provided the details Michael needed to find his unit.

I heard from Michael this afternoon via WhatsApp. Not only had he found the International Legion, but he had also been accepted and was already in training.

I’m not entirely sure I helped him, since there is no greater danger than going to the frontlines as an infantry soldier. But Michael has tremendous experience and was excited to go. It seems to be a shared calling among those of us who come to Ukraine from the West. After lunch, Fr. Roman called us both brave and offered a prayer for us—but honestly, when I think of Michael, and especially the Ukrainian people who face daily attacks and sleepless nights under Russian drones and missiles, I feel like my own efforts pale in comparison.

10/21/2024

Kharkiv to Zaporizhzhia – Pentecostal/Charismatic Churches

For the blog post and videos go to: http://www.theoeco.org/blog/kharkiv-to-zaporizhzhia-pentecostalcharismatic-churches

In early 2023, I filmed a segment for Back to Bucha featuring Pastor Oleg Regetsiy of the Church of the Glory of the Lord in Lviv. At that time, he was conducting an online service with his displaced congregation, many of whom had fled Kharkiv after Russian forces were repelled in the early days of the war. While Oleg and his family have since returned to Kharkiv, most of his congregation has not.

In the video below, we see a Wednesday evening Bible study around a dinner table, attended by Oleg’s family and a few parishioners. At this particular service they were trying to translate everything into English for my benefit though generally would speak Russian given we were in the Kharkiv region which is largely Russian speaking. They read and discuss scripture, followed by prayers from everyone present. It was an intimate gathering, largely made up of women. Oleg’s wife, Iryna, plays a prominent role in the ministry, a female co-pastor, making their work a true partnership. This setting reminded me of the early days of the Christian church, when services were held in homes, often led by women, bringing to mind Matthew 18:20: "For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them."

Kharkiv was relatively calm when I visited a few weeks ago, but it remains a prime objective for Russian forces. Earlier this year, they launched a renewed offensive, but were repelled, in part due to U.S.-supplied HIMARS, which President Biden allowed to strike into Russia. Kharkiv is only about 25 miles from the Russian border, making it a critical flashpoint in the conflict.

After Kharkiv, I traveled south to Zaporizhzhia via Dnipro to meet with Bishop Sergey Gashchenko, leader of the Union of Churches to which Oleg’s ministry belongs. I also attended a service at the Source of Life Church where Bishop Gashchenko preached last Sunday, a glimpse of which you can see in the video below.

This denomination, as explained to me, is Pentecostal with a Charismatic element. The Charismatic aspect apparently allows for women pastors, and I met a young female pastor who gave one of the clearest explanations of the Orthodox church schism and why it is supported by many Ukrainians. We’ll feature her in an upcoming segment.

In my conversations with clergy here, whenever I ask about Christian persecution in Ukraine, they seem perplexed by the question. Bishop Gashchenko even suggested that he enjoys greater religious freedom than many Americans, noting that while U.S. churches were forced to close during COVID, services in Ukraine continued, with most Ukrainians still remaining unvaccinated due to limited vaccine availability.

Ultimately, these two Protestant churches exemplify the thriving religious freedom on this side of the frontlines. The Russian disinformation claiming persecution of Christians in Ukraine is utterly unfounded. The arrest of Russian Orthodox priests acting as spies isn’t about religious persecution—it’s about their illegal activities and espionage, as they continue to support Russia and spread propaganda from the pulpit.

10/20/2024

For the blog post with video click here: http://www.theoeco.org/blog/irpin-bible-church-irpin-ukraine

This church would make most American Evangelicals feel at home.
This Ukrainian mega-church in Irpin has everything— a theater-style chapel, professional cameras, lights, a worship band, plenty of children, gourmet coffee, and a well-known pastor. Most importantly, it boasts a thriving congregation.

This Baptist church in Irpin has everything— a theater-style chapel, professional cameras, lights, a worship band, plenty of children, gourmet coffee, and a well-known pastor. Most importantly, it boasts a thriving congregation.

However, the church’s story took a dramatic turn in February 2022, when Russia invaded from the north. Russian forces shelled the area from occupied Bucha as they attempted to advance on Kyiv. They came close but were ultimately halted in Irpin and forced to retreat.

The attached short video captures a typical Sunday service, as well as a brief excerpt from an interview with Sr. Pastor Mykola Romaniuk. Born into a multi-generational Baptist family—common in Ukraine—Pastor Romaniuk shares how faith, hope, service, and fellowship help sustain the faithful through wartime. He discusses how the trials, such as PTSD, can actually strengthen both the church and its members. This insightful interview will be featured in greater detail in the upcoming documentary Beyond Bucha, which I am currently filming here in Ukraine.

One vital point that I discussed with the pastor is that discrimination against Christians in Ukraine is virtually nonexistent. The only exception is the arrest of Russian "spy-priests" from the Russian Orthodox Church, accused of providing intelligence to Moscow, reminiscent of Soviet-era tactics. As I continue my tour of Ukraine's Evangelical churches, it’s clear that persecution of Christians, or any other religious group, is simply not an issue here. The only individuals targeted are Moscow Orthodox “spy-priests” leading services in some of Ukraine's grandest Orthodox churches and cathedrals.

10/18/2024

Jul's Coffee and Cocktails in Bucha
http://www.theoeco.org/blog/back-to-bucha-again-and-insights-from-ukraines-faith-based-capitalism

Bucha is my favorite spot in Ukraine.

I just finished lunch at the bustling Viktoria Park Hotel here in Bucha, and as I sat there, it struck me: what if I had been here during the occupation? An American documentarian in occupied Ukraine? My days would have been numbered. I’d either be the latest Russian prisoner on trumped-up espionage charges, or even shot dead on the streets, like so many Bucha residents. Artillery shells filled the skies, Javelins destroyed Russian tanks, and people sheltered in their basements. No one roamed the streets, not even the Russian soldiers, who feared being picked off by Bucha’s defiant citizens.

Now, more than two and a half years later, it couldn't be nicer. The weather is a comfortable 60 degrees, partly cloudy—just like Boston. The town, home to just over 31,000 people before the war is perhaps even larger now given the traffic. It’s filled with forests, nice homes, and apartments. Bucha has reclaimed its identity as a trendy Kyiv suburb, complete with a commuter rail station. Kyiv is just 14 miles away, about a 45-minute drive. The noisiest things around this weekend here were the two wedding receptions at the hotel over the weekend. The DJ’s played western hits.

It all feels so normal now. The McDonald's reopened quickly, though I don’t remember seeing a Domino's before. New shops are flourishing, windows throughout the town replaced as if nothing ever happened. The blown-out houses on Vokzalna Street, where the Russian advance was halted, have been completely rebuilt, thanks to international contributors like Miami based Global Empowerment Mission and Howard Buffett, Warren Buffett’s son.
After five days in Kharkiv last week I’ve been here all weekend, capturing footage of a local Evangelical church in Irpin, the next town over. Tomorrow, I’m interviewing its pastor before heading to Dnipro.

To be honest, it feels like a bit of a holiday. No air raid sirens here. They’re rare in Bucha now, unlike in Kyiv, and even more so in Kharkiv. There are no major targets for the Russians here, though I imagine they have plans to strike the power infrastructure as the winter deepens.

Part of the reason I returned this past weekend was an invitation from old friends from April 2022 to a borscht dinner. They’ve been so kind, though I’m still not used to the endless vodka shots before, during, and after meals. Lesson learned: wine and vodka don’t mix well over dinner.

Jul's Coffee and Cocktails

Bucha’s entrepreneurial spirit impresses me, grounded in a faith not just in God, though that’s part of it, but faith in Ukraine’s ultimate victory. You don’t invest like this if you think the Russians are coming back. It’s possible, of course, but few here seem to think it likely.

Take Julia, the owner of JUL'S Coffee & Peace. Anyone who’s seen Back to Bucha – Finding the Spirit in Ukraine knows Julia and her story of returning to Bucha in the summer of 2022 to rebuild. When I visited in January 2023, her coffee shop had been fully restored after being destroyed. And by the holiday season in January 2024, I was back again and screening Back to Bucha at her new restaurant, Burger Bunker.

Now, I’ve returned just in time for the opening of her latest venture: Jul’s Coffee and Cocktails, a beautiful little cocktail house that also serves duck breast, risotto and mushrooms, and tiramisu. She’s also opened Jul’s Coffee and Ice Cream in a nearby park, housed in a little artisan metal building that looks like Tinkerbell’s house—a little slice of Disney World right here in Bucha. Other creations are on the horizon, and all are in Bucha. Her way of giving back a bit of joy to her Bucha as she calls it. Profit is not high on the list of objectives. Jobs and economic activity a tremendous result. It’s all truly remarkable from a woman who had no experience in any of these trades. She has received no insurance nor government money. Just a bit of cooperation from the mayor’s office. The biggest problem? As the mother of five she is just dead tired.

In the short video, you can see the petite diamond cross around her neck, a symbol of her Christian faith. This lady has faith. In God, herself, her family, Bucha and Ukraine.

Call it faith-based Capitalism. It is common throughout Ukraine. And for those that say Ukraine is destroyed, and the war unwinnable, I say come to Bucha.
For the video go to: https://youtu.be/6g4JDjc7IJc?si=vazlCrUGhMOGevjw

10/16/2024

For the blog post with video click here: http://www.theoeco.org/blog/bethany-baptist-church-bucha-ukraine

On Sunday, September 26th, I attended the 10:00 a.m. service at Bethany Baptist Church in Bucha, a gathering that felt like it could have taken place anywhere across the U.S. What makes this moment especially profound is that services like this can only happen in unoccupied Ukraine. In areas under Russian control, such as Crimea and the Donbas, gatherings like these are prohibited. Bucha itself was under Russian occupation for a month following the full-scale invasion in February 2022. Though the Russians retreated in March, they left behind a trail of well-documented atrocities and war crimes.

The next day, I had the privilege of interviewing Pastor Oleksandr (Sasha) Kulbych, the senior pastor of Bethany Baptist. One of the first things you'll notice about him is his excellent English, owing to his family’s strong ties to the U.S. and the U.K. However, it may be a while before he can visit either country, as men aged 18 to 60 are not allowed to leave Ukraine due to martial law. Pastor Kulbych is a fourth-generation Baptist pastor, with roots dating back to the Soviet era, when his great-great-grandfather was imprisoned for many years for preaching the gospel. He draws inspiration from the ministries of Billy and Franklin Graham. In fact, his was the first church of any kind in Bucha, planted in 1991 as a mission of the Baptist Church Union in Kyiv, and he has been with the church since its founding.

I felt a bit awkward asking the question I plan to pose to all the clergy I meet on this trip—whether they or their church had experienced any persecution. Kulbych seemed surprised and simply answered, "no." He explained that Ukraine is considered the freest of all former Soviet states and satellite countries when it comes to religious freedom.

We also briefly discussed the schism within Ukraine’s Orthodox Church and the government’s efforts to address "spy priests." Kulbych didn’t have much to say on the topic, suggesting it was an issue best left to Orthodox clergy.

What weighs much more heavily on his mind is how the war has affected his congregation. Several of his parishioners were killed by Russian soldiers during the initial occupation, and many others are currently serving in the military, which has put much of the church’s activities on hold. PTSD is common among his congregation, as many witnessed firsthand the brutalities of Russia’s occupation. As the war continues, religious communities across Ukraine are grappling with how they will support returning soldiers, particularly since the government is seen as offering little more than lip service to addressing this looming crisis.

But on this Sunday, it simply felt like church. Children filled the nursery, the band on stage played worship songs, and though I couldn’t understand a word of the sermon, it was clear. The presence of the Spirit was unmistakable, and despite everything this church has endured, its strength and resilience will carry it forward for generations, God willing.

For the video click here: https://youtu.be/woyHxfxtwmI?si=NjB-ecJ78fekRjk-

10/15/2024

Kyiv, the Quietest City I’ve Ever Been To

For the blog post and video click here: http://www.theoeco.org/blog/kyiv-the-quietest-city-ive-ever-been-to

How many times have I stayed in Kyiv over the past few years? At least five or six—probably close to a month in total since April 2022.

Tonight, I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it’s the jet lag, since I arrived just before lunch after a three-day trek. I took the Kyiv Express from Warsaw, which left at 6 PM on Wednesday. The ride lived up to its name, though I’m pretty sure the sleeping car attendant was eager to get home early. The compartment was beautiful—I even got a private one. Paneled walls, a private sink (don’t drink the water)—I was living in style! One tip for next time: make sure I have everything I need for the 18-hour journey, if I plan on ordering tea or coffee that is. The attendant only accepted Ukrainian hryvnia—no Polish zloty, despite the train originating in Poland. Dollars weren’t welcome either, although I did manage to convince him that a $20 was worth a cup of tea.

Honestly, though, I think the reason I couldn’t sleep was the quiet. After flipping through the limited English channels (CNN and BBC, for me at least), I turned off the TV and noticed just how eerily silent it was outside my 10th-floor room, overlooking Maidan Square. I had the windows open—it was a beautiful evening, with weather that reminded me of Boston in the fall, around the 50s. Every other time I’ve been here, it’s been winter or early spring—basically, freezing cold, like Boston.

But tonight, with the windows open, the silence was almost unsettling. In all my travels, I’ve never experienced anything like it. Even in the quietest places, there’s usually a distant car, a siren, or some background noise. But here, in this big European city, there was nothing. Not a sound.

It’s in moments like these when the Spirit seems to nudge me, filling my mind with thoughts and ideas, keeping me awake. So, I got up and decided to capture some footage outside the window, a little after midnight. Then I figured I’d explore the hotel, see if anyone was awake. I threw on some clothes and headed down the elevator.

Nope. Just me and the guard in camo. The front desk was closed, the bar was closed—nothing but silence, aside from the guard, who, like the train attendant, seemed ready to call it a night.
I’ve always had a soft spot for the Ukraine Hotel. It’s a relic of the Soviet era, and I can easily imagine party officials having a grand time here back when it was called the Moscow Hotel. These days, its basements serve as bomb shelters, a labyrinth of thick walls and submarine-style steel doors. Rumor has it there’s a tunnel leading to the Presidential Palace. I believe it—the hotel feels like the safest place in Kyiv, especially with reports that a Patriot missile battery protects the nearby government buildings.

But the real reason this silence feels so strange? It won’t last. Whether it’s in a day, a week, or an hour, the sirens will wail, and the explosions will follow.

Oddly, there’s something comforting about the curfew that causes this quiet. No ambulances racing to the ER, no late-night shootings. I think about how many people are shot, or how many car accidents happen in these hours in places like Miami or Boston. In some ways, it feels safer here. But then again, the threat of a terrorist’s missile brings a different kind of anxiety than a mass shooter or armed robber back home.

I guess I’ll get used to it—just like everyone else.

For the video click here: https://vimeo.com/1011325310

10/12/2024

Back to Ukraine with the Airports Still Closed

As we mark over two and a half years since Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, I’m excited to announce the start of the Beyond Bucha Production Tour!

My mission? Go to church in Ukraine! Attending as many services and visiting as many churches as possible, especially Protestant/Evangelical places of worship, though I’ll also include Ukrainian Catholic and Orthodox congregations. My focus is on documenting Christian communities and their experiences amidst the war. Despite the claims of Tucker Carlson and his ilk, I doubt I’ll find many persecuted Christians here—unless we count Russian priests wearing ankle bracelets for spying, whom I’ll also be keeping an eye out for! I’m planning to visit Jewish services too and search for damaged churches and holy sites, though most of these are on the Russian-occupied side of the front, which I don’t plan to cross.

But first, I need to get there—and, just like my first trip in April 2022, it’s going to take some effort. I’m looking at a combination of planes, trains, and automobiles: starting with an overnight flight from Boston to Warsaw, where I am now, followed by an overnight sleeper train to Kyiv, and finally a car to Bucha. The good news is that this time, I’ll have Ubers at my disposal. On that first trip, I had to hike from Kyiv, all the while aware of the low-level threat of landmines.

It’s a three-day journey, though it could be done in two. But that’s beside the point. The bigger issue is that this extended travel time is still part of Putin’s economic blackmail. Ukraine’s airports remain closed—an ongoing hardship, despite Lviv being less than 50 miles from the Polish border. After two and a half years, Lviv's airport should reopen. Waiting for the fighting in Ukraine to completely cease is likely going to be long in coming, but with Patriot missiles and other defenses now in place, reopening the airport seems achievable. The economic and morale boost for Ukraine would be tremendous.

While I enjoy visiting Warsaw, I'd much prefer to fly over it on a direct flight to Lviv. It's frustrating that flights to these cities, once routine—even after the 2014 annexation of Crimea and the downing of Malaysian Airlines Flight MH17—are still unavailable. Even if Russia were reckless enough to target civilian planes again, the repercussions with NATO and Putin's more hesitant allies would be severe. He knows this economic blackmail is a low-cost strategy for him, but we shouldn't allow it to persist.

Reopening flights to Lviv would be a powerful way to boost Ukraine’s economy and morale. It’s time. And I’d gladly sign up for the first direct flight to Lviv—then hop on a train to Kyiv.