Writing for this blog has
taken a back seat for the last couple of weeks - I've spent quite a
bit of time on the road or in preparation for being away. Now that
I've returned to Novosibirsk, I hope to make up for my absence by
posting a couple of different entries this week. The second will be
related to one of the reasons I was away – to go to Helsinki to
meet with my dissertation adviser and other doctoral students about
my research. Since from time to time some of you have asked about my
studies, by Friday I'll haven written a summary of the work I am
doing there in the area of “Sophiology.” (Don't be scared! It's not as
bad as you think!). :)
But for now, though, I'll
return to church and its situation here in Siberia.
Our congregation building on October 30. It's whiter still there now. |
Rather, I'd like
to return to the church. Instead, though, I feel like the church on
the congregational level is still a bit too puzzling to be able to be
write about it in a way that is understandable. Instead what I feel
like I can do is write about my confusion. For example: just
before worship began on the 30th of October, I was told by
a member of the church council that there would be funeral after the
service. It would be held in the home of a very elderly woman who had
not been able to attend church for the past 6-8 years. I was invited
to come and to preside. This took me by surprise, to say the
least. The last and only time I had presided at a funeral was 9 years
ago in Novgorod; though I have my own materials prepared for such a
situation, they were at home (and I certainly would have brought them
had I been informed earlier!) I was tempted for a minute to say that
I wasn't prepared and therefore wouldn't lead the service, but this
seemed to me to be the worse of the two options before me. When we arrived we found the typical situation
after an elderly person dies here – family and friends were
gathered in the living room around the coffin, taking turns paying last respects. Four women from the congregation lead
the singing (with some of the hymns proclaiming a word of hope for
the deceased and others (the greater number) reminding those gathered
that they, too, will die some day and that they'd better get their
spiritual houses in order), and I did my best to lead prayers and
give a short homily. After the service ended, a few people present
(none of whom had ever been to a Lutheran service) address some
rather unexpected questions to us, so as “Does your guardian angel
stay with you in heaven or come back to help someone else?”
and“How should we bury Maria, with her head or her feet at cross?”
I took my time in answering, and one of the women jumped in – her
answers surprised me as much as the questions themselves. Part of me
wanted to react immediately – to make clear that I should be told
immediately if someone dies (and that I should have a list of the
home bound to visit so that I can provide spiritual care to the
elderly before they die), that the answers given to the questions do
not really have a good basis in the teachings of our church. And, as
pastor, I actually have a certain responsibility to make such these
things clear. Yet, our relationship has not yet developed to such a
point that my “corrections” are likely to bring about the desired
effect. So, I'm trying to follow a course of “responsible inaction”
by patiently and consciously developing relationships with
congregational members such that I can eventually influence the
congregation's life in positive ways.
The situation is quite
different for me outside of the congregation, where I have no direct
responsibility and, therefore, fewer limitations on the way I work.
In exploring ministry outside of the congregation, it has become
clear to me just how important it is that we keep a wide definition
of what and were the church is. While the congregation is important,
it perhaps is not where I will focus most of my energy right now.
Together with Deacon Vyacheslav (Slava) at the Reformation Day Service |
I've been able to become
acquainted with one very interesting sphere of ministries outside of
the congregation thanks to the help of a deacon in the local
Finnish-tradition church, Vyacheslav (Slava, for short). Slava has
spent many years engaged in prison ministry. While this aspect of his
work is practically inaccessible to me – every time a foreigner
wants to visit a prison, permission must be received from Moscow -
there are many prison-related fields in which I might be able to take
part.
Slava's work is not
limited to what happens behind prison walls. His work there led
rather quickly to the realization that there was a whole complex of
social issues related to those who had been incarcerated. First, it
brought him into contact with the families of the men he had been
visiting; he found that most were suffering, and that many had been
infected with tuberculosis, which is a wide-spread problem in Russian
prisons. Their children (if diagnosed properly) would be sent to a
special hospital complex for a minimum of six months of therapy. In
fact, the situation was very close to one in an orphanage –
relatives visit rarely and staff are occupied with caring for the
physical needs of the children but have no resources for providing
more. Slava gathers donated toys, cloths, diapers and other materials
for these children and brings them to the hospital at least once a
month. He also gets together special gifts for those who had
birthdays that month, and he presents them and other special treats to the kids at the afternoon tea break. He usually does a short program
with the older kids to help them see God's love for them.
In addition, when
following-up with the men who had been released from prison, Slava
found that a large number were suffering from substance abuse and in need of rehabilitation. Eventually a rehab center in Novosibirsk
that was looking for some spiritual support approached Slava for help, and since that time he makes weekly visits there for Bible study as well
as providing counseling at other times. He and another man from his
congregation have worked closely with this rehab center and hope to
open a Lutheran church-based center in the near future.
Men at the rehab center. Picture taken with their permission (or, rather, at their request) |
And this reminds me of
another rehab center I had the opportunity to visit in the last days
of October. This center was about an hour outside of Novosibirsk in
an isolated village. I traveled there with a group of friends working
on HIV prevention. Since about 70% of new cases of HIV here come
about through the sharing of infected needles, these friends are
trying to increase awareness among former or current drug users about
HIV. On the one hand they hope that this will allow HIV positive
people to have the opportunity to receive treatment at these centers
(instead of being forced out because of a fear about the “dangers”
of being around HIV positive people), and on the other they want to
encourage those in the centers to get an HIV test so that they might
know their status and take appropriate steps if needed. Of the people
I traveled with to this center, two of them came to faith in
Christian rehab centers....unfortunately, by the time they started to
heal from their drug addiction, they had already become HIV positive.
That these two friends (we'll call them Ivan and Anna) were able to
kick the habit is really a bit of a miracle – the recovery rate at
rehab centers (including at Christian ones) is disappointingly low,
and some Christian organizations use the rehab centers as a
for-profit business, whereas others make membership in their church a
condition for continued help with recovery. On the other hand, there
are few alternatives accessible to addicts, and so these church
centers are the best option at the moment. And for folks like Ivan
and Anna, they were crucial in their recovery...and now this effect
is being multiplied by their engagement in trying to bring help to
others.
I feel very privileged to
have had the opportunity to see the church beyond the borders of the
congregation in these past few weeks. But I don't want to leave the
impression that nothing new is possible in the congregation. Just
recently, in fact, we did something that would be typical in the
U.S., but which is rather innovative here – we gathered 3
congregations (our church, the Finnish-tradition Lutheran
congregation, and a local Baptist congregation) together to celebrate
Reformation Day. While I realize that in the context of the West there is the danger of simply glorifying the past on this day, for us here it was not
only an opportunity for education (since not that many people are familiar with the Reformation), but was also one of
the few chances we have here to see a concrete example of churches
working together. There were not many of us at the service (it was a Monday night, after all), but I believe that all
three congregations felt strengthened spiritually by our evening
together, and I hope that in time we'll find more ways that we can
continue to strengthen one another....perhaps in social service
projects and youth work? I'll let you know how our efforts in those
directions work out.
1 comment:
Bradn, I look so forward to reading these blogs of yours. I appreciate the differences in the culture and am glad to have your discription of it. Thank you so much for the time you put into your writing. Love and miss you. Kathy
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