As Ukraine battles Russian aggression, a sinister new threat has emerged in the shadows of war: fraud masquerading as faith. While the nation mourns its heroes, dubious religious movements—once at the heart of notorious scandals—are resurfacing to prey on human suffering. These so-called “messengers of God” fled abroad after Russia’s full-scale invasion, squandering the wealth they amassed in Ukraine. Now, three years later, with their funds depleted and unable to deceive believers abroad, they are returning—not in person, but through cunning schemes that shock with their cynicism. This is a story of how scammers exploit human tragedy to line their pockets and why every Ukrainian must stay vigilant.

The Return of “Spiritual Predators”

Before the war, Ukraine was home to dozens of religious movements that reaped millions from trusting believers. Their leaders, like Volodymyr Muntyan, promised healing, salvation, and divine grace—for a price. But when Russia’s invasion began, these “prophets” vanished: some went silent, others fled abroad, living lavishly on the funds collected in Ukraine. Their schemes faltered overseas, where believers were less gullible and local laws stricter. Now, on the third year of the war, with their coffers running dry, these figures are turning back to Ukraine, where human grief has become their new “gold mine.”

How does it work? Leaders like Muntyan remain abroad, dodging missile strikes and mobilization. Instead, they orchestrate a network of “home groups” in Ukraine—small gatherings that pose as Christian communities but function as veritable “call centers” of fraud. These groups relentlessly scour social media, targeting those who have lost loved ones at the front, are searching for the missing, or share their pain online. The scammers operate with finesse: they offer condolences, befriend their targets, and suggest praying for the fallen. This is followed by offers of psychological support, contact exchanges, and regular online meetings. Step by step, they build trust, aiming for their ultimate goal—“tithes” or other donations.

At first glance, it seems like compassion. Who would refuse a prayer for a fallen son or husband? But behind this façade of kindness lies cold calculation. For those unfamiliar with figures like Muntyan, a quick Google search reveals the truth: scandals involving extortion, fraud allegations, and opulent lifestyles amid their followers’ poverty. The primary aim of these movements is to recruit as many people as possible and secure a steady stream of “tithes”—monthly donations supposedly for “God’s work.” Before the war, these groups thrived, but the conflict cost them followers. Now, they’re back, exploiting not just trust but the deepest wounds of Ukrainians—loss.

In social media, particularly on Facebook, young people subtly initiate contact, adding users as friends. They start with casual questions about beliefs, hobbies, or views on religion. If the responses align with their goals, they offer to pray together and later invite their targets to join a Telegram channel for “religious meetings.” The playbook is predictable: communal prayers, heartfelt talks, and, eventually, requests for donations. Their primary targets are those grieving loved ones lost at the front or searching for missing relatives—people whose pain makes them vulnerable.

The Story of Oleksiy: A Pawn in the Scam

To understand how this scheme operates, we spoke with one of its “soul catchers”—17-year-old Oleksiy from Mariupol. His family was evacuated to Kyiv by volunteers, but support ended there. His ailing father requires care, housing in the capital is exorbitant, and Oleksiy’s mother works two jobs to keep the family afloat. As a minor, Oleksiy struggled to find work: markets and shops turned him away, and even fraudulent call centers rejected him due to his youthful voice.

Eventually, through a social media ad, Oleksiy stumbled into a closed Telegram chat where a religious movement was recruiting “remote workers.” His age raised no concerns. He was offered the role of a “soul catcher”: scouring social media daily to find people sharing their grief and inviting them to a private chat. There, other members of the movement “process” the targets with prayers, conversations, and, eventually, donation requests. Oleksiy earns a small sum for each person he recruits. “It’s not much, but there’s no other work,” he admits. Oleksiy is just one of many exploited by scammers, lured with promises of easy money for a “noble cause.”

Why It’s Dangerous

These religious movements are more effective than traditional scam call centers because they manipulate the most powerful human emotions—grief, despair, and the need for support. Their goals extend beyond money: in some cases, they swindle savings, property, or even convince victims to sign over assets to the “church.” In a time of war, when countless Ukrainians have lost loved ones, homes, or stability, such schemes find fertile ground.

Moreover, these groups are masters of disguise. They don’t brand themselves as cults or scams but as “home churches” or “communities of believers.” Their representatives—often young people like Oleksiy, themselves victims of circumstance—create an illusion of sincerity. But behind the scenes are seasoned manipulators who have honed their tactics for years.

How to Protect Yourself

To avoid falling prey to these scammers, stay vigilant:

1. Verify who you’re dealing with. If a stranger on social media quickly offers “spiritual support” or prayer, be wary.

2. Avoid suspicious links. Telegram channels you’re invited to may be part of a scam.

3. Research religious movements. If someone invites you to join a “church,” investigate its history, leaders, and reputation.

4. Don’t share personal information. Scammers can exploit details about your grief or finances.

5. Remember: true support doesn’t demand payment. Requests for “tithes” or donations are a red flag.

A Call to Action

Ukraine is enduring the darkest chapter of its history, and scammers shamelessly exploit this tragedy. Religious movements profiting from grief are not just fraudsters—they are moral looters, stealing not only money but hope. Their schemes challenge us all to stay vigilant, protect our loved ones, and prevent manipulators from feeding on our pain.

If you encounter these “soul catchers,” report them to law enforcement. Share information about these schemes with family and friends. Only together can we stop those who hide behind the mask of faith to rob Ukrainians in their most vulnerable moments.