Christmas Reflections for the Church in Russia, 2015.

  From time to time the church here asks me to write for their magazine - “Der Bote.” This year I was given the task of writing a sermon for their Christmas issue. My space was very limited, so I can't help but feel that the text is underdeveloped. That said, I thought that by sharing an English translation of the text with you, you might gain a bit of insight into my view of the life and piety of the Russian Lutheran church. This is not the sermon I would have given in the U.S., but I hope that it succeeds both in meeting the people “where they are” and at the same time calling them ahead to where they might, with the Spirit's guidance, go. Below, then, is the sermon I wrote for them with only some slight expansion of the first paragraph in order to help you understand the context. The sermon is titled “The Day After the Holiday.”

  The winter holidays in Russia are long and full of repeated celebrations – because the Eastern Orthodox Church maintains the Julian calendar, they celebrate Christmas when our Gregorian calendar tells us that it is January 7. The bigger celebration here, New Year's Eve, is also celebrated twice (the second time with a degree of self-depreciating humor), on December 31/January 1 and “Old New Year” 13 days later. All the while the country begins to go into full holiday mode in the last days of December and falls more or less into a stupor until the middle of January... Doesn't it seem to you that people tend to find that it is hard to “wake up” after that? It is, after all, easy to get used to doing nothing.

  Unfortunately this is the case not only during the winter holidays. All year round we tend to do just enough to get by. We go with the flow; we think and act according to old habits. This helps us feel comfortable; being tethered to what is familiar protects us from unpleasant surprises. On the other hand, though, we stop waiting for pleasant surprises, too... Maybe that's because we know, in the end, that we really don't deserve them.

  Despite this quality of us humans, God continues to surprise us. This is what we celebrate today – that God decided to intervene in our situation to save us from ourselves and from separation from Him. It is this separation that is reflected in our laziness, our fears and other vice. From our end we've done nothing to suggest to God that we deserve to be saved; He acts entirely out of His mercy. That is why it is written “grace appeared.” This phrase appears in our readings both for Christmas Eve (Tit. 2-11-14) and for Christmas day (Tit 3.4-7). Grace appearing is not the logical result of our actions. It has nothing to do with human standards of justice. The author of this text pays little attention to explaining why grace appears, though the answer to this question underlies everything in the text. In the 2^nd chapter we are dealing with one very long sentence that, if you cut out the dependent phrases reads: “grace appeared so that we would live, awaiting...” In a similar way in the 3^rd chapter we read: “when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy..., so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.” (.4-.5a,.7)

  In these dense phrases we see that Titus was written not only for the holiday, a joyful day of praise, but also for the next day, when life returns to its usual patterns. This letter was written, it seems, not for the first two weeks of January, but for the 350 days that follow. After all our Christian life is not only about what God has already done, but also about God's continuing work in the world and in us. Grace was revealed, yes, that's true, but that was not God's final goal. “Grace appeared so that...”

   God's grace, which we celebrate in a special way today, defines our present and our future. Nothing else can transform our world so powerfully. It is grace which frees us from our laziness, our inertness and our fear of the unknown. It is grace, Luther says in one of his sermons on this text, that makes us a “channel through which flows a constant stream of God's blessings to other people.” That is another reason for our great joy today! Just like Titus, we live in the day after the holiday. Praise God that there is the Christmas news which shakes us up, enlivens us, inspires us and directs us to concrete actions for the sake of those in need. And who are they? Aren't they the refugees in your town from eastern Ukraine or Syria? Aren't they those who do not yet know about God's love and need you to witness to them about it? Aren't they those who during these holidays are alone or in poor health? You know better than I do who these people are. And you know why you want to help them – because grace has been revealed. Alleluia! 

Searching for Words

It seems that my native language is failing me. I've been in Russia a long time, after all, and despite my accent and the grammar mistakes that I continue to make, Russian is the language that I think in most of the time. Writing this blog, therefore, is rather challenging, especially considering that I'd like to write well.  When major events occur, then, I spend time first trying to interpret the incident, and then I try to find words to express what I see, hear, think, feel.

Lately these major events have been coming faster than I can process them. After an airplane full of tourists (most from St. Petersburg) was downed over Egypt on October 31st, I did not feel ready to write about the sadness and the anxiety that surrounded me, about how Natasha and I remembered our honeymoon there and realized just how many young couples were on that plane. Many with children. And none of them likely to have anything to do with the reasons behind the bomb that was laid in the plane. It was clear - it could have been any of us.

When the controversial French satirical periodical Charlie Hebdo published caricatures of the crash that offended many Russians, I thought of issues of sensitivity, empathy and healing and what a missionary might have to say about all of that. But I wasn't ready to write; I was still processing.

And then there was Paris. And Beirut. And Bamako. Even if they are all far away, we remembered again what could happen to any of us. We hear terrorism as often as here as Americans hear “Trump.” As you might imagine, we started using the subway less; I decided to wait for a while before taking the boys to the nearby stadium to watch our excellent local soccer team; we tried to get used to seeing riot police patrols. We heard how President Putin and President Hollande spoke about a "Grand coalition" of overwhelming military force to fight terrorism. I saw all this, and I thought about how Christians in this country and around the world might respond. About how it appears that a distinctly Christian approach has yet to emerge. But I couldn't find the words.

I'm not ready to write today, either. I'd like more time to see how things develop further, to analyze what might help readers understand Russia and what we as people of faith might do to care for our neighbors in these circumstances. Time would help.

And maybe it will still. But that shouldn't stop me from sharing with you what Russia feels like today. I'm not sure how to do that; maybe an example would help. Let's imagine that U.S. bombers are engaged in missions near some point of conflict. Let's pretend it's Afghanistan. And then let's imagine for a minute that a "frenemy" state bordering the conflict and in some way or another involved (that would be Pakistan, I'd imagine) shoots down our plane. The pilots eject, but one of them is shot dead in the air by locals; all this is captured on film for the whole world to see. And then in this imagined situation Pakistan says that it's America's fault. That they warned us.... OK, perhaps this isn't the best example. Let's try, instead, to replace Pakistan with Israel. Does that make you feel uncomfortable / anxious / tense / irritated? Well, while the example with Israel is even less likely and even less accurate in terms of the political situation, it does do something to help one see the emotions involved.

“Fever pitch” and “boiling point” and words that describe the seemingly countless hours dedicated by news programs and talk shows to this incident. And while one frequently gets the impression that the TV is an instrument for forming and controlling public opinion here, in this particular case the TV seems to be speaking for the “common man.” 

 Everyone is thinking about terrorists and Turkey and how Russia is always getting a raw deal. But they don't talk about it. People continue to go about their business. In our family Matvey needs to build a model of cell for school on Friday; Martin is relieved to have his first skating competition of the year behind him; Lukas is busy opening cupboards, playing whatever musical instruments and toys he can get his hands on and repeating the words that are actively becoming a part of his vocabulary. Streets are being swept and potatoes are being purchased and people are getting married.

But there is a general sense of...a sense of... and here I realize that the English words don't do justice to what people feel – treVO-ga, na-pryazh-EN-iye, raz-drazh-EN-iye (anxiety, tension, irritation). There is a general sense of the need to otomSTIT (get revenge). Then there are the words that Russian has in common with English. Words that themselves carry u-GRO-za (a threat) - li-kwi-DA-tsi-ya (liquidation), es-ka-LA-tsi-ya (escalation)....

Words are failing me. They seem to be failing all of us. And so we turn to actions, actions that tend to be neither in our own long-term interests nor the interests of our neighbors. The problem, of course, is not with our fluency. Or with English or Russian itself. The problem is with our minds, our hearts, our imaginations. These failures are worldwide and, today, these failures are manifest in the way Russians are feeling. It is a sad situation. And, to be honest, is is situation the has the potential to become even more dangerous.

What can we do? We can do what religious leaders around the world are calling for – remain calm. Think. Listen. Pray. More than that, though, I think that we can remain present with one another. I think that we can try to grow in empathy, that we can encourage our leaders to reject threats and violence with the understanding that these ultimately do little to provide the abundant living that God wants for all of us. We can try to embody peace, becoming agents of peace in our own communities. With words. Or without.

Familiar / Unfamiliar

  After a ridiculously long break, today I'm finally renewing work on my blog. Many of those who will read this have already read my newsletter, though, in which I described various events of the past spring and summer. That means that I'll limit myself here to my reflections upon events of the past month, when I've been blessed once again to have the opportunity to travel through Russia to teach through the "Equipping for Service" program.

  In one sense these travels were nothing new. I've been to the Northern Caucuses many times (in fact, the capital of the region, Krasnodar, was my home as a student and then English teacher in 1997 and 1998), so its farm land, hills, mountains and sea are quite familiar... The relative warmth of the region was also quite welcome at a time when St. Petersburg had already seen its first snowfall. On the other hand every visit to the region through the church brings me something unfamiliar. Unfortunately I didn't even know about the existence of a Lutheran church in the region back in the 1990s; today I've been to the congregation's building, met it's church council chair and had many good discussions with the region's new area dean and my former student at the Novosaratovka Seminary, Sergey Maramzin. He has invited me to take part in the regions twice-yearly seminars, organized by the former area

Dean from Germany, Oswald Wutzke (with whom I, regrettably, don't share a common language...otherwise he is clearly a person with whom it would be interesting to speak and learn from his experience both as a politically active pastor in Germany and as a person who for many years has visited the congregations in the Northern Caucuses, including organizing aid for victims of flooding in Krymsk (2012) or for victims of the Beslan tragedy.) Being involved in the seminars is a great way to get acquainted with congregational leaders in this region, which in the past has suffered from a lack of pastoral attention. I saw the familiar situation of ethnic German clubs being the basis upon which congregations originally gather, but rather unfamiliar was the very fact that ethnic Germans remain in the Caucuses. In discussions with participants I also ran into some things that point to a somewhat unfamiliar mindset - on the one hand there is a respect for their Muslim neighbors that I don't see as much elsewhere, while at the same time I ran into more openly patriotic (bordering on nationalistic?) feelings than I usually see in St. Petersburg. Thankfully that generally anti-Western feeling was coupled with a generally positive relationship to me as a western there, so I didn't feel (too?) uncomfortable...(which rather well reflects my general state at the moment...) I hope that I was able to present participants of the seminars there (in the spring - "Images of Jesus," and in the fall "The Apostle Paul") with something unfamiliar enough that they felt like they were learning, but familiar enough that it was all comprehensible.

   My next stop - Khakasia in south-central Siberia. As I've mentioned before, I feel at home there because Khakasia is a Russian version of "Big Sky Country" - rolling hills and mountains, fields and forests, small towns, really good people (even if they are outnumbered by livestock).... Before serving in Siberia, I would have never guessed that such a place was hiding in Russia. I use the word "hiding" not by accident - when I tell people in St. Petersburg that I'm going to Khakasia, they rarely have an idea where that is; it's their own country, but it's unfamiliar....just like almost an Montanan will tell you about conversations he or she's had about our state while visiting big cities in the U.S.
  The theme of the seminar was quite familiar insofar as "conflict" tends to be the most popular topic I teach...on the other hand, congregational leaders in the region wanted me to address humility as well. The challenge was to find a proper understanding of the latter that would help participants see conflicts not only as destructive, but potentially as agents of positive change.

  Later, in Moscow, I ran into familiar people (former students at the Theological Seminary, current students at the seminars that I organize for distance education students) in a familiar place (the dining room behind the altar at St. Paul's Lutheran) while teaching a familiar topic (History of Israel). What was unfamiliar was the first in what it is hoped will be a series of seminars that will lead directly to commissioning of lay leaders for the Central Deanery of the ELCER. There are high expectations for this program, so a particular challenge will be to fit the necessary material into a limited amount of time, but in general this is the kind of unfamiliar that brings me particular joy - signs of development in the church that will be important for its long-term health.

  The tension between familiar and unfamiliar is in its own way productive. After all, if nothing is familiar, then I fee like nothing more than a tourist. If everything is familiar, then I feel like nothing more than a local. If can't help but feeling both at the same time, then I feel like nothing more than a missionary.

Risk

There are times here in my ministry that I feel like I'm one of the armies in a game of Risk, being

shifted from "Russia" to "Urals" to "Siberia" to "Irkutsk" and back. (I'm still waiting for the opportunity to be shifted to the real Yakutsk or Kamchatka...too bad we don't have any congregations there!) Last week I had the rather odd series of experiences: transversing the continental divide between Europe and Asia 4 times in two days, visiting one of Russia's most vibrant provincial cities (Ekaterinburg) and one of its rather depressed (but in its own way beautiful) industrial neighbors (Nizhny Tagil), of spending time with a congregation that has been without a pastor for almost two years and in the congregations in the "capitals" of Russian Lutheranism, Omsk and Moscow.

The topics of two of the short seminars that I led fit well with the image of "Risk" - Conflict and Introduction to Christian Ethics. I led the latter in geographically-European ELCUSFE congregation in Polevskoe. I've know the congregation's pastor, Denis, for quite a long time, both as a student at the Theological Seminary in Novosaratovka and as a colleague. Since he and his wife live in nearby Ekaterinburg (officially in Asia) our hour-long bus rides took us to a new continent. Denis is quite open-minded, and it seems to me that a small city like Polevskoe particularly needs people like him; there our congregation can be a place both for those with German-Russian roots and for "lost souls" seeking a community.

After two days there I went to visit a fellow missionary living and working two hours north of Ekaterinburg. Mattias and his wife Lena have committed themselves to the "long haul" in circumstances that are far from easy. It was wonderful to share with them a moment of joy along the way; after a few years of meeting in an apartment, the congregation has been given the opportunity to use a former store as their center. They've done renovations there that make it very comfortable, even if the surroundings outside of the walls are not. I will hope and pray that this opportunity for their congregation will open up new doors form them in ministry.

South and east (already outside of "Urals" and in to "Siberia"), Tjumen is a quickly developing city thanks to income from gas and oil in the north part of the state ("oblast") of which it is a capital. The congregation there, too, is a mix of elderly Russian Germans and younger folks who felt attracted by our congregation for one reason or another. People from both of these groups were engaged participants in short lessons that I led about images of Christ and about conflicts.

Fun facts about Tjumen: 1. During WWII Lenin's body was evacuated from the mausoleum on Red Square and brought secretly held in a building of the regional Institute of Agriculture. 2. Rasputin's hometown is not far from Tjumen. Although I didn't make it there this time, I've heard that it is run by a man whom claims to be the grandson of that wild-man monk. 3. Apparently the abundance of newly planted pine trees in the city is a result of influence of a local bureaucrat whose family name ("Yelkin") shares a root (pun intended) with the Russian word for the tree ("Yelki").

And overnight's trip further east still (but still part of western Siberia, 3 hours ahead of Moscow

time), Omsk is a familiar and friendly place (OK, at least the congregation there is. Not everyone gets that excited about the city itself), and I was happy when the newly-appointed Dean of the region, Vladimir Vinogradov, talked with me about the possibility of running a number of seminars there. My experience, though positive overall, convinced once again that it is difficult to give even a short introduction to Christian Ethics in one, 5-hour day.

Catching the plane back west early the next morning, I arrived in Moscow to see that Spring had sprung while I had been away. That said, despite the green grass appearing everywhere, the day was scattered with snow storms. At worship I was privileged to witness a joint service of the "local" congregation and the francophone Protestant congregation that has been celebrating its 15th anniversary.

The theme for the discussion planned with extension education students in Moscow - “Jews and Christians – Paschal Reflections” came about as a result of my experience with inter-religious dialog in Tomsk. There a representative from the local Jewish congregation mentioned that from his point of view, there was no need for the Incarnation, death and resurrection of Christ. While on the one hand this was obvious, I decided that it would be worthwhile to explore the question of what believing Jews of the 1st century might have said about this, especially regarding the sacrificial aspect of Jesus' death and the way various movements did or did not expect bodily resurrection and why. However, we had to keep my program short because of an extra-long worship and because the opportunity arose to make a group excursion together with the congregation's confirmands to Moscow's main synagogue. (Perhaps more about that later). It seemed to me that it would be better to use this opportunity to meet representatives of the Jewish community instead of just hearing me talk about Judaism, and I don't regret that decision. The topic still interests me, though, and I hope that I'll have the opportunity to further develop the material and use it one day.

Now I'm firmly back near the border with "Scandinavia," and have a couple of weeks to recoup before my next turn - headed south for my first visit to the deanery of the North Caucuses. More about that in May.

Lutherans and the World's Largest Lake

One of the natural wonders I have had the privilege to visit here is Lake Baikal in southeast Siberia. The deepest and perhaps the most ancient large lake in the world, it contains approximately 20% of the planet's unfrozen fresh water. When we recently planned a retreat of our church's Central and Eastern Siberia region to be hosted by the nearby congregations in Irkutsk and Shelekhov, we thought that we should start by taking out-of-town guests (many of whom had never been to Baikal before) for a visit.

  It was my 3rd trip to the great lake, and I was struck again by how at the most accessible location (the source of the Angara River near Listvyanka) you don't really realize how unique the lake is. A stop at the natural history museum changed that impression, thanks especially to a great tour guide – a researcher in the area of climate change. I was most struck by what he had to say about the lake's 1000+ endemic species, i.e. those organisms that live in Baikal and nowhere else on the planet. They all have adapted to their environment so well that they are unable to survive elsewhere. When I heard about the fat and lovable Baikal seals,

the golomyanka fish (mostly transparent, gives birth to live young, able to survive at most any depth), and the supreme-water-cleaning crustaceans , all of which have no home other than Baikal, I felt overcome with sadness. It was a completely illogical reaction to scientific fact, I know. Maybe it has something to do with the volatile emotional environment of life in Russia at the moment. Or maybe it is because I couldn't help but comparing endemic organisms to our Lutheran church in Russia. Our approach to Christian faith originated in Europe and has adapted very well to north European and North American environments... it seems to be on the way to adapting to the warmer waters of Africa...but what about here, in the world's largest “lake,” Russia? Can it survive here?

I didn't have much time to contemplate that question, however, because we soon had to leave Baikal in order to make it on time to the “Blue Spruce” center, where we would meet for our retreat.

My time with congregational members did much to disperse my doubt regarding the viability of our church here. There I saw people (almost 40 of them!) who strove to grow and develop, to apply their faith to everyday life, even if the environment is not particularly welcoming. The theme that our staff in Omsk, Natasya Razinkova and Natalia Sivko, chose for the seminar - “Ironman” - fit very well for this group. Participants were also well supported (both in logistical and in spiritual questions) by Pastor Thomas Graf Grote and by me as the person responsible for the “Equipping for Service” project. Even if we had a limited amount of time together, we were able to hear something new, to reinforce some of what we already knew, to share with one another, pray with one another, and to sing together... Actually, regarding music, I must say that there wasn't too much “together”-ness. It turns out that the development of various singing styles is part of the local adaption that takes place in each of our congregations in its own way.

After the seminar was over, I would have been happy to visit Baikal again. Next time, you see, I'm sure that I won't feel sad. Instead I know understand that God created nature (and us together with it) with the capacity to find new paths to abundant life, wherever we may be. Maybe our church is just one tiny “microorganism” in this enormous country, but it also has an important place here. Without it, the environment would be poorer and would suffer. I think we can embrace this identity and go forward in the confidence of the Spirit's accompaniment of us along the way.

Tomsk in Winter

   Earlier this month my call to as the organizer of the "Equipping for Service" program took me to one of my favorite Russian cities, Tomsk. (It's a very photogenic city, so I'm going to scatter pictures around this post randomly. There the weather (freezing, windy, sunny) and food (meat-based everything) remind me of Montana. It made me miss home a bit...and I tried to cope with that by buying some ice cream Baskin Robbins for the first time in many years. I treated Lilia, the elderly women I was staying with, to some Old Fashion Butter Pecan. Although deep in my heart I would have preferred at that moment to be sharing ice cream with one of my one grandmothers, Lilia did as well as she could to make me feel home throughout the week.

St. Mary's Lutheran Church

In Tomsk there is the constant contrast of old and new

Yes, that is a wooden shovel he is using to clean off the roof in order that everyone can see the Apple ad.

   But the reason I'm writing this blog entry is not only to share my mood, but at least a little about the work I was doing there. My hope was to spend the week in Tomsk both with the congregation and with the wider community. One of the ways I hoped to do this was by offering a seminar - “Conflict: One Christian's View.”  The topic is one that is on the minds of many these days - why does conflict occur (on all levels, from personal to political) and what can people of faith do about it? I obviously wasn't going to solve the world's problems, but the hope was that it might be possible to have fruitful conversation and think of some initial steps that might be taken.

  This idea was very well received at a meeting that I thought would likely be peripheral in my time in Tomsk – a meeting of the Inter-religious Dialog group that meets at Tomsk State University. The group was kind enough to change their typical format a bit in order to accompany my visit, and the group's leader in particular asked for more contact with our church in the future.

Inter-religious dialog. Former church council President Ludmilla.  

  Unfortunately an attempt to cover similar themes with the wider community and with the congregation did not attract a significant number of participants. There might be various reasons for this, but I'm pretty certain that the topic itself is interesting for people here, and I'll be making more attempts in the year ahead to look at this theme (including a seminar in Novosaratovka in March, where I'll be teaching for a few hours together with the main teachers from Germany and Russia..more on that later.)

The Russian-German Cultural Center in Tomsk at night.

So while the seminar itself did not have the impact that I had hoped, there was a good turnout for morning Bible studies on Philippians, and there was a good crowd for Sunday worship.

...Or Saturday worship, as is the case when I visit the village of Kozhevnikovo, two hours away. In the early 1990s this town had a flourishing congregation, but now there are just a few elderly women left. They are few, but very faithful; they meet regularly for prayer and hymns, with or without a pastor. They try to pass on their faith to their children and grandchildren, so this year, like last, I was asked to baptize a young child. I hope that Tomsk's next pastor has the opportunity to work more with the children of the village; perhaps God will work a miracle there and bring alive the dormant faith of younger generations.

Rusalina, baptized 2/14/2015 in Kozhevnikovo

The pillars of the village congregation.

  The Tomsk congregation, too, had been waiting for Holy Communion since October, when my colleague Chris Repp visited the congregation. There we had another baptism, and both the newborn's family and the congregation came out in full force. It was a good sign of hope that the congregation has stayed together as they patiently awaited the arrival of their new pastor, an ELM-educated Russian-German, who should arrive in Siberia shortly. 

Polina, baptized 2/15/2015

Installation of Dietrich Brauer as Archbishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Russia (ELCR)

Just over a week ago, I had the privilege of being present at the installation of Dietrich Brauer as Archbishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Russia. There was a really impressive number of guests - so many, that if I began to list them here, it would probably mean that you'd stop reading this post! I believe that such a show of support is a result both of the fellowship other churches in Europe feel with the Lutheran church in Russia and the good work that Bishop Brauer and his staff have been doing over the past years (when he was holding the job as “acting Archbishop.”) In his sermon for the installation, he showed the critical (and self-critical) spirit that is in such short supply in church life here. At the same time, he underlined the power of the Good News to change the lives of individuals and wider society.

St.Peter and Paul Lutheran in Moscow.

Participants in the installation receive instructions before the service.

Dean Elena Bondarenko (former staff at the Theological Seminary) and Viktor Weber (2010 seminary graduate, currently pastor in Moscow and head administrator of the office of the church in European Russia) led the liturgy.

I was asked by my boss, Asia Secretary for Evangelical Lutheran Mission in Lower Saxony (the Hermannsburg Mission) to represent ELM at the installation. As a pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, I also was in some way representing American partners as well. It was a priviledge and a joy to see the continued growth of one my former students at the Theological Seminary in Novosaratovka, and my thanks goes out to all of you who have contributed to this important development in church life.