
From: ChristianScholars.com — By Olga Dietlin, Ph.D.
I remember the dissonance I felt when I was invited to join a prayer meeting organized by Wheaton’s Politics and International Relations Department soon after the Russian invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2022. Masked and socially distanced, we gathered in a calm setting to pray for the people of Ukraine—huddled in basements and subways as Russia stunned the world with its brutal offensive. The peaceful normalcy of that prayer meeting, even with heartfelt concern for the Ukrainian people, collided with the new realities of my homeland. The contrast was unsettling: the measures we could take to ensure our own safety felt almost extravagant compared to the chaos and panic unfolding in Ukraine.
The expatriate guilt—a pervasive awareness of my security against the collective suffering of the Ukrainian people—has been disorienting. It has left me questioning my place and role in a world so starkly divided by contrasts. This tension resurfaces repeatedly, stemming from a vacillation between two kinds of safety: the psychological safety emphasized in higher education and the rudimentary physical safety that many around the world, most personally in Ukraine, are still fighting to secure. How do I remain faithfully present to the immediate realities of my context (Romans 12:15) while holding space for the suffering that feels, in my heart, more urgent and pressing?