Far, Far East

Ernest Neizvestny “Mask of Sorrow”
Monument to GULAG victims 

  It's not every day that one gets to Magadan, a city in Russia's Far East that even in Russians minds is associated with stereotypes about Siberia – cold, isolation, gold mines, prison camps...did I mention cold? As I flew in to the city on October 1st the needles had already dropped from the larch trees and were covered with a fresh dusting of snow; the long winter was about to begin.
  Yet the reality of Magadan was much more complex than the stereotypes. Yes, the Kolyma region is very cold, but Magadan itself is saved from the worst of it thanks to the mountains surrounding the city and its port. Yes, mining was a big part of the region's economy, but today it is no longer at the center. And the camps? Well, Magadan knows its past and, unlike much of the country, makes a serious attempt to confront it – through moving memorials, museum exhibits and, most of all, the stories of survival passed on from one generation to the next. 
  What everyone has right about Magadan, though, is its isolation. Yet being “geographically marginalized” was part of the reason that I made it there. The “Equipping for Service” project for which I am responsible devotes special attention to those areas for whom Christian education is not accessible; for that reason Magadan became the first stop on a month-long journey that Pastor Len Dale (recently retired Director for Evangelical Mission in the Central States Synod of the ELCA) and I made through Russia visiting Lutheran congregations.

  Len and I were welcomed into the small Lutheran family in Magadan in order to listen to their stories and to try to encourage them to see how God might be calling them in to the next chapter. Their long-time leader, lay preacher  Andreas Olzols, together with their new chairman Yur Fogel, shared their own stories and their insights into their congregation's life. Throughout the years they've had hopes to have their own full-time pastor, but each time they've been disappointed. Dean Manfred Brockmann makes it up to visit them when he can, but Magadan is accessible only by plane, and tickets are expensive. Visiting the city is expensive for another reason, too – since almost all food (except the amazing local fish and crab) has to be brought in from the outside, it can be many times more expensive than in the rest of the country. Utility prices

(including for the congregation's apartment, where they meet for worship, have fellowship and put up guests) are also twice as expensive as elsewhere; these factors, together with the decreasing population of the city, make it easy to become depressed. While we were obviously unable to solve these problems, our hope in our time together was to help them see the multitude of gifts that God has given them and to concrete on using those gifts in a way that is most effective and life-giving. 
  If we were able to help them focus on their possibilities for mission (while not ignoring the challenges) then the resources spent on this visit will have been worth it. One small story heartened me; as Annete from the congregation was giving us a tour around the city and was telling us about the climate, her daughter Marina piped up with: “I don't like summer!” This was surprising to hear from a little Russian girl, so I asked her “why?” Her answered had everything to do with snow – she was a serious skier, and practices in the summer, she said, are rather boring. I thought that was great – if you live in Magadan, you'll be much happier if you love snow! In life it isn't possible to totally avoid such “negative” phenomena as summer (even in Magadan), but your much more likely to have a sense of God's grace if you focus on what you have instead of what you don't.