It is an interesting and strange time to be living in Russia. While the country has changed much over my dozen years here, much of what has happened over the last weeks and months has surprised me a great deal. Many of the changes we have seen could be considered progress. For example while there was a time when it was difficult to find a good Internet connection, lately you could find free wifi in St. Petersburg's center; as of last
week, though, in order to log on to that free network you'll need to provide your passport information. Another example - years ago I would have never imagined that you'd be able to easily find (American) peanut butter and marshmallows on the shelves...but even less would I have imagined a time when those items would disappear from store shelves (together with a number of other things our family enjoys, from Finnish cheese to Spanish oranges) as a result of Russia's answer to Western sanctions. A different selection in the supermarket is no big deal, of course; more significant is the change in atmosphere caused by this current conflict. Once again Russia has become a place for me that is not always predictable, and that's not always comfortable....
And as soon as that thought comes in to my head, I am reminded that being comfortable never was the goal. The goal was to be with the people, to both hear and share about our faith, whatever the circumstances. That means that it is particularly important for me at this time to stick with the country and with the small minority which is the Lutheran church here.
It can be challenging to continue the journey filled with hope. In fact much of the time I distrust even positive signs (e.g., those coming out of Ukraine right now?) and most of the time I feel powerless to bring about positive change. Thinking about the wider world (Iraq and Syria, Gaza and Ebola) can bring one right up to the edge of despair.
Spending time together with Russian Christians has helped me find my center again. Over the past two weeks I have had the opportunity to teach at a seminar for our church entitled “Introduction to the Spiritual Life.” 14 participants from around European Russia have listened to me as I've taught about Christian spiritual practices, healthy congregations, a short history of Christian monasticism, and one of the writers that has most influenced me, Thomas Merton. (Finally, almost 15 years after taking a course on him in seminary I had an excuse to share my interest in Merton with sisters and brothers here!) Along the way they've shared with me their own thoughts about the church, theology and their own spiritual life. It was here, in and outside of the classroom, that hope was reborn, hope that by turning to central relationship of our faith, by seeking to affect positive change in the world from inside out, believers really can make a difference. Another way of putting this is to say that instead of concentrating on acting like a Christian, this course has reminded me that these efforts are likely to do little good (not to mention likely to burn us out) without inner transformation and renewal.
Whatever direction Russia takes in the future, I know for certain now that hope will never be on a list of banned imports. There is no reason to import, after all, for God's renewing Spirit is at work here, bringing about positive change in the lives of individuals and, through them, in wider society.
Our last jar of p.b. |
And as soon as that thought comes in to my head, I am reminded that being comfortable never was the goal. The goal was to be with the people, to both hear and share about our faith, whatever the circumstances. That means that it is particularly important for me at this time to stick with the country and with the small minority which is the Lutheran church here.
It can be challenging to continue the journey filled with hope. In fact much of the time I distrust even positive signs (e.g., those coming out of Ukraine right now?) and most of the time I feel powerless to bring about positive change. Thinking about the wider world (Iraq and Syria, Gaza and Ebola) can bring one right up to the edge of despair.
Spending time together with Russian Christians has helped me find my center again. Over the past two weeks I have had the opportunity to teach at a seminar for our church entitled “Introduction to the Spiritual Life.” 14 participants from around European Russia have listened to me as I've taught about Christian spiritual practices, healthy congregations, a short history of Christian monasticism, and one of the writers that has most influenced me, Thomas Merton. (Finally, almost 15 years after taking a course on him in seminary I had an excuse to share my interest in Merton with sisters and brothers here!) Along the way they've shared with me their own thoughts about the church, theology and their own spiritual life. It was here, in and outside of the classroom, that hope was reborn, hope that by turning to central relationship of our faith, by seeking to affect positive change in the world from inside out, believers really can make a difference. Another way of putting this is to say that instead of concentrating on acting like a Christian, this course has reminded me that these efforts are likely to do little good (not to mention likely to burn us out) without inner transformation and renewal.
Whatever direction Russia takes in the future, I know for certain now that hope will never be on a list of banned imports. There is no reason to import, after all, for God's renewing Spirit is at work here, bringing about positive change in the lives of individuals and, through them, in wider society.
Participants from Ivangorod, Moscow and Yaroslavl. More pictures to come... |