During the USSR's struggle against fascism, Orthodox clergy and their congregations demonstrated their patriotism and loyalty to Soviet power through their actions. Across liberated Ukraine, as in the rest of the country, the reconstruction of war-ravaged national infrastructure began, including the restoration of monasteries and churches. Secular and religious organizations even found common ground for cooperation. Believers had grounds to think that the harsh trials of their faith were behind them, with the prospect of a stable alliance between Church and state ahead. Indeed, the wartime and postwar period in the Soviet Union would later be dubbed a "thaw" in religious matters.

Most of the achievements of this era would later be undone by another "thaw" under Khrushchev, characterized by a long and sweeping anti-religious campaign. However, that moment was still years away. For now, archival sources take us back to the immediate postwar years, when the first signs of a growing coolness toward the Church on the part of the government began to appear. By the first half of 1946, regional representatives of the Council for the Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church (hereinafter referred to as the Council) were already reporting to higher authorities on the growing religiosity of the population, framing it as an "undesirable phenomenon."

Religious Fervor: A Threat of Mass Reaction?
In a report by the representative for Sumy Oblast, we read: "This year, believers have shown a particularly strong desire to petition persistently for permission to hold processions to fields, springs, wells, and so on." Representatives of the Council in Ukraine referred to such requests as "unfounded demands of believers."

"For instance, Vasilisa Grigorievna Lyubchenko from the hamlet of Radkovka in the Zotan District came to me to request permission for a procession to a spring. After explaining to her that processions were not allowed, she said she had already been told the same locally. However, some believers had insisted she go to the regional level anyway.

Lyubchenko, a modest woman of middle age, thanked me for the clarification and left without expressing dissatisfaction or resentment. After our conversation ended, she began speaking with great enthusiasm about her profound joy and her intention to share it with her fellow villagers. It turned out she had recently attended a church service at the Transfiguration Cathedral, which had left a powerful impression on her. 'Oh, how wonderful, how wonderful,' she said. 'It's nothing like in our village. Now I have something to tell everyone.'"

These statements, documented in an ordinary report, are a vivid testament to the depth and resilience of Orthodox faith in the hearts of ordinary Soviet citizens, particularly women. The example clearly shows that even after decades of aggressive anti-religious propaganda, attending services could still stir deep emotional responses in the Christian souls of Ukrainian SSR residents.

Yet, the representative for Sumy Oblast interpreted Lyubchenko's account differently, framing it as a warning: "Of course, upon returning home, she will speak about this experience at length. This demonstrates how strongly the atmosphere, singing, rituals, and attire of church officials influence those who visit." The official, in effect, cautioned that the positive example of religious fervor might prove contagious to the masses, a phenomenon not encouraged in the USSR.

Growing Boldness?
Officials were also concerned that "if, in 1944, some villages vacated buildings previously seized from churches without complaints, this compliance is no longer observed." These buildings, often taken from religious communities in prewar years, had been reclaimed by believers during the occupation. Now, believers were submitting grievances and petitions not only to the Council but also to high-ranking figures such as Ivan Kozhedub, a three-time Hero of the Soviet Union and Supreme Soviet deputy.

"Demands from believers, and occasionally from clergy themselves, have grown significantly, with issues being raised before district executive committees, Council representatives, and even delegations being sent to request permissions," noted the representative for Kherson Oblast.

Repeatedly, reports referred to believers' "demands": requests for land to organize church farms, permission to acquire property for religious use, dissatisfaction with premises offered as replacements for confiscated buildings, and pleas for state-supplied materials to construct places of worship.

A Shift in Course?
A report from the representative in Stalino (later Donetsk) Oblast included a section on clergy misconduct, listing 39 individuals accused of behaviors like drunkenness, debauchery, and embezzlement. For example, one dean overseeing 14 churches noted widespread issues with clergy in his district, including drinking and scandalous behavior.

Officials interpreted such reports as evidence that clergy misconduct could alienate believers from the Church, potentially aligning with the government’s broader goals of reducing religious influence.

The Decline of a "Church Renaissance"
The mid-1940s marked a high point in Church-state relations, a period historian Olga Vasilyeva described as "the golden decade" of cooperation. However, by the late 1940s, this "Church renaissance" began to wane, influenced by factors such as Stalin's failed aspirations to establish a "Orthodox Vatican" in 1948.

Even during this brief thaw, it was clear that many party officials, raised on Leninist atheism, never fully embraced Stalin’s policy of reconciliation with the Church. By the end of the decade, this ideological discord would contribute to a shift back toward repression.