Avraamy and the Void: Why the PCU Dismissed the "Abbot of the Lavra"
The "PCU Abbot of the Lavra" began establishing direct contacts with the highest authorities and was immediately dismissed.
On July 16, 2026, it became known about the dismissal of the "PCU Abbot of the Lavra" Avraamy Lotysh. The organization's press service published the decisions of its synod, which had met on July 13. Among the many items — at first glance, an inconspicuous sixth point, for the sake of which, it appears, the whole affair was arranged. Formally, it contains not a single surname. Yet it effectively draws a line under the three-year "Ukrainian Lavra" project and transfers the country's main monastery to a single individual — PCU head Epifaniy Dumenko himself.
Let us examine in order what actually happened and why a far more acute story than "routine personnel reshuffling" is concealed behind the deliberately bureaucratic wording.
What exactly the synod decided
The decision rests on the long-standing synodal Resolution No. 30 of May 23, 2022, "On the Holy Dormition Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra," according to which the religious organization "Holy Dormition Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra (male monastery) of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (Orthodox Church of Ukraine)" is under the direct authority of the PCU head as "sacred archimandrite" (abbot) of the monastery. The synod effectively confirmed that the "primate" — personally Epifaniy Dumenko — is the head of this religious organization.
What follows is the very "strange wording" that deserves very close attention. The synod recommended that Epifaniy appoint, by his own decree, "the Right Reverend Vicar Bishop of Boryspil" as the dean of the Lavra — "the senior official of the monastery after him."
Two important things are hidden here, drowning in the flow of ordinary bureaucratic language.
First, the "Vicar Bishop of Boryspil" is none other than Avraamy Lotysh. This is the title he has held since February 2, 2024, when the PCU synod elected him "bishop" of Boryspil, vicar of the Kyiv eparchy, and appointed him "abbot" of its structure at the Lavra (he had in fact been performing the duties of abbot since March 2023). In other words, the decision does not name him at all — it refers to Lotysh as a position. Formally, he was not simply dismissed but carefully demoted: from "abbot," who had his own standing and administrative weight, to dean — that is, to a subordinate administrator.
Second, this is a recommendation, not an appointment. The synod does not appoint Lotysh as dean — it merely advises Dumenko to do so. In other words, Avraamy's further fate is left entirely to Epifaniy's discretion. If he wishes, he will keep him as second-in-command; if not, he will not.
It should also be noted that the change has already been reflected in public registries: as of July 15, 2026, the head ("director") of the religious organization "Holy Dormition Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra" is listed not as Lotysh but as Dumenko. In other words, Epifaniy simply took the top line for himself — and did so quietly, without the fanfare with which Avraamy had once been proclaimed "abbot."
The conclusion is straightforward: what we see before us is not a routine reshuffle but a concentration of power over the Lavra in a single pair of hands.
The "Ukrainian Lavra" project: three years of emptiness
To understand why Dumenko decided to take the monastery under personal control, one must assess the results of Avraamy's three years of management — he led the PCU's Lavra structure from March 2023, first as acting abbot, then as "abbot." And that assessment is one of failure.
The primary task for which Lotysh was brought into the PCU in the first place was entirely concrete: to fill the Lavra with monks. To draw the brotherhood over, to create a living monastery, to show that the "Ukrainian Lavra" was not merely a sign above the door but a genuine monastic community. For this purpose, he — a former archimandrite of the UOC — was received into the PCU; for this purpose he was "ordained" as "bishop"; for this purpose a powerful media campaign was built around him.
Yet over those three years, not a single monk from the UOC joined the brotherhood of the "Ukrainian Lavra." Not one. Dumenko's "brotherhood" remained a handful of people who could be counted on one's fingers. And this despite the fact that nearby, within the same walls, a real monastic community of more than a hundred monks continues to live.
The residents of the PCU "monastery" are registered in the state nature reserve as employees — meaning that what we have before us is not so much a brotherhood as the staff of a government institution. Under such circumstances, the director of the National Nature Reserve "Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra," Maksym Ostapenko, effectively behaves as the master of the territory, while spiritual substance is replaced by purely media-driven events: filming sessions, "community clean-up days," conferences, and concerts. Over three years, a shrine of universal ecclesial significance has not been filled with prayer — it has been turned into a platform for public relations.
And here, quite possibly, lies the main problem for Dumenko. As long as Lotysh was listed as "abbot," he bore responsibility for the emptiness of the Lavra's churches. Now that responsibility will fall on Dumenko himself. Why is this a problem? Because the situation will not change — there is nowhere for it to change from.
It is clear that monks from the UOC did not transfer to the PCU under Lotysh's "abbotship," and they will not transfer under Dumenko's leadership either. And there is simply nowhere to find new ones: there are virtually no monks in this structure. Which means that every empty church, every Sunday service attended by a handful of worshippers, is now Epifaniy's personal failure — not Avraamy's.
Can a primate be the abbot of the Lavra without a deputy abbot?
The very structure that the PCU synod has constructed deserves separate examination: the PCU "primate" is simultaneously the "sacred archimandrite" (titular abbot) and the head of the religious organization — that is, the effective master of the monastery. There is no longer an abbot over the brotherhood — there is only a "dean," who in practice is a simple administrator.
From the perspective of centuries-old tradition, this is unnatural.
Traditionally, roles at the Lavra were clearly separated. The sacred archimandrite (the honorary, titular abbot) was always the first hierarch — for example, Metropolitan of Kyiv Volodymyr, and later Metropolitan Onufriy. The actual deputy abbot, who day by day leads the brotherhood, manages the monastery's affairs, celebrates the Liturgy, tonsures monks, receives visitors, and hears confessions, was a separate bishop. In the UOC, this obedience has been carried since 1994 by Metropolitan of Vyshhorod and Chornobyl Pavlo. This division is not a formality: the Primate physically cannot manage a monastery in the manner of an abbot — he has an enormous number of other responsibilities and his own administrative burden. A monastery, meanwhile, needs someone who lives its daily life.
By removing the deputy abbot and leaving over the Lavra only the "primate" plus a "dean," the PCU creates an absurd situation. Formally, everything is subordinated to Dumenko. In practice, however, day-to-day management will inevitably fall either on that same "dean" (that is, on the demoted and humiliated Lotysh), or — far more likely, and already happening de facto — on the secular administration of the nature reserve. The monastery will be governed not by an abbot but by a bureaucrat. And then the criticism that has been directed at the "Ukrainian Lavra" for years — that it is not a monastery but a branch of a government institution with liturgical décor — receives its final confirmation, now at the level of the management structure itself.
In other words, the scheme of "primate without a deputy abbot" is an acknowledgment that there is no living monastery, and that the deputy abbot currently has no one and nothing to lead there. It is simpler to subordinate empty walls directly to oneself than to admit that the project has not come to fruition.
Why Lotysh was really removed
Now — the reasons. The official version being attached to the event (allegedly "Lotysh's contacts with the authorities" and some "confrontation with the primate") looks more like a cover story than an explanation of everything that happened. The real reasons, judging by the totality of the facts, are two, and both are far more prosaic. The first is money.
Over the past month, the Lavra has transformed from a problematic asset into an object around which major financial flows are swirling.
In the early hours of June 15, 2026, a Russian drone struck the Dormition Cathedral, damaging the roof of the main church. The state responded immediately and at the highest level: President Zelensky and Prime Minister Svyrydenko personally arrived at the scene, and the government announced the urgent allocation of funds from the reserve fund.
The sums involved are of an entirely different order than those previously associated with the nature reserve: approximately 26 million hryvnias were allocated for roof conservation alone, while the preliminary estimate for the full restoration of the cathedral exceeds half a billion hryvnias. International partners are joining the financing effort — Switzerland, Greece, and Japan, among others, have expressed readiness to assist with restoration; the process is being coordinated by the Ministry of Culture and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
In parallel, at the beginning of July, the government adopted a decision to construct a National Pantheon on the territory of the Upper Lavra — with the reinterment of distinguished Ukrainians, including those buried abroad. Financing is to come from the state budget "and other sources not prohibited by law." This is yet another long-term and costly flow tied to the monastery.
Now let us recall that not long ago Avraamy was complaining that considerable rent had to be paid for the use of the Lavra's churches. And suddenly — millions from the budget, international donations, plus enormous financial prospects linked to the construction of the pantheon. The Lavra has transformed from a burden into a prize.
The PCU leadership could not, by definition, leave such a flow under the control of someone they did not trust. Hence — a decision that is logical from the standpoint of bureaucratic mechanics: to subordinate the organization, and therefore the financial flows, directly to Dumenko personally.
Where there is money, only trusted insiders must be present. And Avraamy, as we shall see below, never became an insider for the PCU.
This is, of course, a reconstruction of motive, not an extract from the minutes: officially, the synod says nothing about any money. But the temporal coincidence — a surge in Lavra financing and the simultaneous transfer of it to Dumenko's personal control — is too eloquent to be dismissed as accidental.
Lotysh began playing his own game
The second motive is political. Lotysh ceased to be a convenient, manageable figure and began pursuing an independent course, establishing direct contacts with the country's top officials while bypassing Dumenko.
He did not conceal these connections — on the contrary, he displayed them. Even after his dismissal, Lotysh publicly thanked the head of the OP, Kyrylo Budanov, "for his support and wise counsel," and also published a joint photograph.
A week earlier, Lotysh had posted on his social media what amounted to a sensational photograph with Zelensky taken at the Office of the President. And this despite the fact that even Serhiy Dumenko himself had never been invited there.
It was precisely this photograph that served as the trigger. According to the Ukrainian outlet DSnews, citing several independent sources within the PCU, the decision to remove Avraamy was connected to Lotysh's meeting with Zelensky. In other words, the version that "he was removed after making independent contact with the president" is not an invention but something reported by Ukrainian journalists citing insiders within the PCU itself.
There is also one further piece of indirect but highly eloquent corroboration. Almost simultaneously with the dismissal — around July 14 — the PCU issued an internal circular restricting the independence of "bishops." According to it, the participation of bishops in state, public, and cultural events on the territory of Kyiv and the region now requires coordination with Dumenko and his "blessing," while the document separately regulates the procedure for "bishops'" interaction with central state authorities.
It would be difficult to find more direct evidence.
A circular prohibiting bishops from contacting the authorities without Epifaniy's sanction is issued at precisely the moment when the Lavra's "abbot" was caught making independent contacts with the OP and the president. This is no longer merely chronological proximity — it is a reaction.
Dumenko did not simply remove Lotysh: he tightened the screws on the entire "episcopate" so that no such "independent games" would occur again. The Lavra merely became a vivid demonstration of what awaits those who disobey.
Why did Lotysh's close contacts with the authorities affect Dumenko so deeply? Because an independent channel from the deputy abbot to the country's top officials is a direct threat to his own monopoly on "representation." In a structure where everything rests on Dumenko's personal vertical, a figure who has his own access to the OP, his own resources, and his own money automatically becomes dangerous. And if that figure also controls the flows surrounding the Lavra — all the more so. Hence the removal of Lotysh.
A defector who never became one of their own
Here we come to a very important point. Avraamy came to the PCU from the UOC — and for the PCU he remained an outsider and a traitor. And traitors are trusted nowhere — neither in the Church, nor in the apparatus, nor in the army.
The logic here is exactly the same as in the high-profile stories involving politicians: Zaluzhnyi, Fedorov, and other figures whom the system alternately draws close and pushes away. Be insufficiently active — you will be removed for uselessness. Be too active and independent — you will be removed for insubordination. Only those who serve their superior unconditionally and humbly remain in his shadow. Lotysh managed to fail on two counts simultaneously: he did not fulfil the primary task (he did not fill the Lavra with monks), and he began playing his own game. For a man who was already considered an outsider, this is a death sentence.
There is also a detail in this story that says much about Avraamy himself — and which surely did not escape the attention of PCU spokesman Yevstratiy Zorya and Dumenko.
When Lotysh was "ordained" as bishop in February 2024, this did not take place through the efforts of PCU "bishops" alone. On February 3, 2024, in St. Sophia's Cathedral, representatives of Constantinople participated in his consecration: Metropolitan of Chalcedon Emmanuel (Ecumenical Patriarchate) and the Phanar's exarch in Ukraine, Bishop of Comana Michael.
The presence of Phanar hierarchs here is not merely a matter of protocol. In all likelihood, this was a deliberate insurance policy on Avraamy's own part. It reveals what Lotysh apparently did not say aloud but understood perfectly well: a "consecration" performed exclusively by PCU "bishops" might appear dubious. He needed an insurance policy in the form of canonical hierarchs in order to lend his ordination at least some weight in the eyes of the Orthodox world. In other words, by his own actions he bore witness to the fragility of the legitimacy conferred by the PCU alone.
Such things are not forgotten in the PCU apparatus. A man who is not entirely confident in the sufficient legitimacy of "his own" is, by definition, not someone to whom the Lavra and millions of hryvnias will be calmly entrusted. His own caution turned against him: it revealed both his distrust of the structure he had joined and the vulnerability of his position within it.
Lotysh does not surrender — and hints that not all is clean
It is telling that Avraamy himself received what was happening with anything but humility. He did not retreat into the shadows and did not remain silent — he began to respond, if only through hints.
On one hand — demonstrative loyalty to the state and the president: posts in the spirit of "as long as the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra stands, Ukraine will stand," "we pray for our invincible army and the future of Ukraine," public expressions of gratitude to the head of the OP. This is a declaration that behind him stands not his ecclesiastical superiors but something weightier: the favor of the authorities.
On the other hand — transparent hints that not all is clean within the Church itself. For example, he writes that "in times of war, the enemy of human souls manages to sow seeds of hatred and enmity even in the hearts of believers," and that "preserving the light within is our most difficult but most important test." This is not about Moscow. It is a stone cast at his own leadership: in effect, I am being removed not for cause, but because of internal intrigue and enmity. He presents himself as a victim of behind-the-scenes struggle — and, judging by reports of a "struggle for influence," there is some truth in this.
Avraamy effectively confirms: behind the elegant synodal wording lies not concern for the Lavra but an apparatus conflict. And this is yet another argument against the version of a "routine reshuffle."
In the end, we see that the removal of Lotysh is an acknowledgment of the failure of the "Ukrainian Lavra" project and an attempt to salvage at least control over its material shell. When large sums of money began to swirl around the Lavra, Dumenko simply took the asset under personal control, stripping yesterday's "abbot" of his status and leaving him, at best — "by recommendation" — the position of dean.
Now Dumenko personally bears responsibility for the empty walls. And that, perhaps, is the only truly honest outcome of the entire story: the void has finally acquired a name.
