Deanery Visit to Magadan

  In the first days of February, my duties as Area Dean of the Far East took me to Magadan and Sokol, a region I last visited in 2016. You can read about that trip here. In the two years since I have the impression that while the economic situation in the city might have improved slightly, in general the area constantly feels the effects of a tragic history, isolation, and continuing emmigration.
 The flight from Moscow to Magadan in northeast Russia takes eight hours; if going so far it might be desirable to stay for longer. During my visit I did not have as much time to explore the area as I might have liked, but meetings with key local leaders were at the center of my attention. The situation in the congregation in Magadan has occupied the thoughts and prayers many of us connected with the deanery lately; even before this visit it was relatively clear that we would be moving toward closing the congregation.

  St. Marks has run into various disappointments throughout the years in regards to spiritual leadership. At present the Magadan congregation is served by lay preacher Andrey Ozols; however during my visit I went to see Andrey at the hospital after a minor stroke. His age and health concerns, unfortunately, make it unreasonable to count on his being able to lead the dwindling congregation forward. Faith is very important for those few people who are left (picture, right), but it seems that it might be in their best interests if they could find a more vital congregation, even if it is of a different denomination.

In Sokol (below) the congregation is relatively vibrant for a a house church - approximately 10 people meet weekly in lay leader Elena Romanova's apartment. Here, too, however, but it is does not seem wise to invest the significant funds and time needed to develop the congregation when Elena does not plan on staying in the area for the long term and there are no other clear leaders on the horizon.

These conversations are not easy to have, but we held them in the context of thankfulness for what the Lord has given and that God brings us through death and in to a new and different kind of life. In the coming months I will continue to work with the people in the region to try to see that they find alternative sources of spiritual care and also to sell the Magadan congregations apartment and invest those funds in other parts of the deanery as the Lord and common sense direct us.

Just outside of Magadan from the air.

Holy Week in Khakasia

"What do we need to do?"

  This is the question I run into very frequently in all sort of areas of congregational life...but none more so than in the area of worship and ritual. I'm not sure how much of it has to do with the "hardening" of various norms that took place during the church's underground (and later semi-official) existence in the Soviet era and how much of it has to do with the "folk Orthodoxy" shared by many of our neighbors here, a piety that is very rule-based (while at the same time, ironically, not usually very serious about following all of the rules). In any case people are concerned that they do the "right thing"... ad are usually pretty sure that the solution be in the singular. 

  For that reason there is a certain barrier to working on renewing worship here. Church leaders recently dealt with the issue at a seminar for extension students in Novosaratovka, while during Holy Week I had the opportunity to work on this issue "on the ground" as I visited south central Siberia. 

 

With confirmands in Bograd

Palm Sunday in Kuragino

 The region's four viable congregations and other preaching points are served by three dedicated, competent lay ministers who continually seek out ways to improve their ministry skills and to gain knowledge that will help them fulfill their responsibilities. Together with them and Area Dean Vladimir Vinogradov, we decided that it would be good if I could visit them in order to provide them with some additional pastoral support and to introduce them to some of the options for enhancing liturgical worship during this special time of the year. 

  Maybe it's their Montana-like landscapes, maybe it's the people's warmth, but I always feel a bit like I'm coming home when I visit Khakasia. I was privileged to interact with them in an intense week of worship services, theological discussions, Bible study and planning for the future. The preachers, who now have mastered the basics of leading worship, were surprised and excited to hear about the ways our services can be enhanced or altered  on Lenten holy days. They saw and their congregations saw, as I had hoped, that a renewed experience of worship can help us feel closer to the events that took place in Christ's life and bring us deeper into our sense of what that all has to do with our lives.

  I hope that after this seminar lay leaders can feel more confident so that we might dream together of asking not "what do we need to do?" but "what might we be able to do?" 

Zoya Heintse, the region's coordiator, leading worship.

A Retreat in the Russian Forest

  While it certainly wasn't the taiga, the vast forests of more isolated portions of Siberia, the tur baza (more or less like a camp) called “Russian Forest” still made for a good spot for folks from the Omsk region to get away from the city and its cares and to come together to think and pray about how God is calling them to develop.

  If you read this blog regularly you will know that last year Pastor Len Dale (from the Central States Synod) and I made a trip to a number of sites in order to lead short seminars on strategic congregational development. Dean Vladimir Vinogradov liked that seminar enough that he asked that I come back to his region this year for follow-up.

  In mid-March, then, 12 congregational leaders from 5 congregations (Beryovovka, Zvonarev Kut, Kazanka, Azovo and Omsk) in addition to myself and Dean Vinogradov got together for a weekend retreat. Dean Vinogradov led morning and evening prayer based on the Biblical theme of the weekend – Mt. 9.38 – while I led the lessons related to analysis of the congregation's situation, it's gifts and it's potential call as the people of God in that place. In addition to study and application of the book of Acts, we also covered materials that are applicable to almost any organization regarding life-cycles, focus and goal-setting. The mix of the practical and theoretical, of the human and divine elements of the church, brought a lot of life to our discussions, work and plans.
  I'm especially pleased with that result given that it is the first time I've led this topic on my own. We were hindered a bit by a lack of time such that we did less concrete ministry planning than I had hoped. On the other hand, it must be acknowledged that these topics are totally new for most people here, and so it may be unrealistic to expect to move so quickly.
  Because we saw the need for continued work in this area Dean Vinogradov and I agreed that it will be important to find good ways to follow up with those who attended. One option would be to plan a similar seminar (though introducing different tools and with the attempt to go deeper) for next year. A second option would be to try to gathered representatives of larger congregations together insofar as they face a common set of challenges and have significantly more opportunities than congregations with fewer human resources. Another option would be consultation, where someone would come in to help congregations analyze their ministries and mission opportunities. We will see where God leads us, as through the “Equipping for Service” program we strive to continue to increase the capacity of the Russian church to spread Christ's love.

Area Dean Vladimir Vinogradov

Men's Ministry in Russia

  My years in Russia have taught me that some of my pre-conceived notions about mission and ministry are misguided...or, at least, that they are not completely applicable to this context. One of those examples is "men's ministry." In the past I had a notion that this was a way for men to assert their authority in the church and in their families. This looked a lot like encouraging patriarchy, certainly not something in which I would want the church to be engaged. 

  Here, however, in addition to there being a different set of issues around gender and roles than in the West, there is is the problem of an almost total absence of men in many congregations. "Men's ministry," as I see it being developed here in the Omsk region of Evangelical Lutheran Church in the Urals, Siberia and Far East, is not about re-asserting men's power, but is instead an attempt to help men see that there is a place for them in the church and to give them the opportunity to be surprised both by their potential usefulness and by the support which they didn't even acknowledge that they needed. 

  For that reason I've been hoping to find a way through the "Equipping for Service" program to support an idea I heard at the last synod assembly of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in European Russia. There my successor as pastor of St. Nikolai Lutheran in Novgorod, Igor Zhuravlev, mentioned the lack of men's ministry (despite a thriving women's ministry) at the last ELCER synod. I suggested to him and then to the folks in ELCUSFE that he and I travel to Omsk, where they've been doing such work for a few years. He agreed, and our hope was to go a see a model that we might use to replicate (with certain modifications) in European Russia. 

  We arrived on Friday morning and left Omsk for the  “Admiral Makarov” camp in the early evening. One of the most impressive things about the seminar was the way different types of activities were planned and balanced. We started with bowling and a meal Friday, while on Saturday we had activities that were more about listening (morning prayer, Bible study) or about talking (stereotypes about men, a survey of questions about our live's most significant moments), were more focus was on the physical (winter soccer and capture the flag) or the mental (chess with living figures). 

  Sunday morning was used for morning worship, another activity reflecting on mens' roles, and final reflections before leaving back for Omsk around noon.  By the end of the weekend the seminar's 13 participants had had the opportunity to reflect, be encouraged, experience renewal, and come away with a new sense of brotherhood. 

  If the original goal of this seminar was to help Igor and myself gain confidence and motivation to run a seminar in ELCER, that goal was met. While it would be wrong to underestimate the importance of the unique character of the gathered group (Omsk has a good team of leaders that know one another well) we came away from the seminar with the realization that, because this is a need that is not currently being met, it actually might not be as challenging as we thought to hold a similar activity. Igor and I felt inspired to make further plans, and we hope to test out our ideas at the first men's seminar for the Northwest Russian deanery in May. Dean Vinogradov also saw the potential to build on what has already been accomplished, and he and I are making plans for a church-wide (including participants from other parts of the former Soviet Union) coordinators' seminar in September. 

Transsib |trænz-SÍB| verb [intransitive]

   The title of this entry includes a word that, of course, exists in no other dictionary than the one in my mind. But some words virtually demand to be brought into existence. Riding through northern Asia on the train is certainly a unique mode of travel, and after celebrating its centennial recently I think that the Trans-Siberian Railroad deserves its own verb. 
   Len Dale and I were not on a leisure trip, of course – if  we were we would have found a train that left Khabarovsk at a reasonable hour and whose wagons would have been new and modern. As it was, however, for us the scheduling of congregational events held priority and that meant getting on the train after midnight and putting up with an antiquated system of heating the passenger cars that slowly roasted us over the next few days and nights. 

   I had ridden significant portions of the Trans-Siberian before, mostly in my time in service as a pastor and acting dean based in Novosibirsk. In western and central Siberia it can seem like the birch forests and fields of cereal grains go by at 50 mph for  whole days at a time. There was some birch in the east, too, but also a greater variety of hills, steppe, thick coniferous and mixed forests, rivers and streams. On this trip stops between Khabarovsk and Chita (our next destination) were even less frequent than in other places of the “magistral” – about twice in 24 hours there was a stop of 20 minutes or more, with 1-2 minute stops every four hours or so. I knew that this area (“Zabaikalsky krain” and the “Amurskaya oblast”) was among some of the least densely populated areas along the Trans-Siberian, and we rode through abandoned villages with some frequency. At the same time, there were enough people living there that I thought of what life must be like in rural Siberia, and it made me miss home. 

   As we approached Chita and saw the spreading urban development, I couldn't help thinking about what it is like coming in to Billings – a place that is not very large in terms of its population, but important insofar as it is the biggest town for many miles around. Chita, though, is bigger, older, and draws in people (for shopping, trade, and work) from an entire time zone. As with Magadan, Chita has a reputation in Russia as a city where the people (as the joke goes) have been in prison, are in prison, or are planning to go to prison in the near future. Our experience there, however, was wholly positive; we stayed in the charming older part of the city which, like with almost all Russia cities, has a mix of new buildings, restored older buildings, and buildings that are still occupied though they should be condemned for safety's sake. 

The oldest building in Chita, now a museum, formerly a
church used by the Decemberists who were exiled to Siberia

   We spent three days with the tightly-knit, multi-generational Lutheran congregation there, made up of two or three extended families and explored with them how God might be calling them to develop their ministries. We introduced ourselves and our work there by reading the story of Paul's meeting with Christ in Acts 9, using the very simple method of asking three questions about a text: “What is God doing here?” “What are the people of God doing here?” “How does this apply to us?” These discussions helped us get a sense of what was important to them, which was, most of all, raising their kids (which are many!) in the faith. One of the men there, Viktor, shared how he taught his kids to pray in part because his parents never taught them, and he knows his own life has been enriched thanks to prayer. Together with them we realized that God had put among them a desire to grow in discipleship and Christian education at all levels.
  That is a long-term goal; Len and I were able to meet some of their immediate needs by leading worship with Holy Communion, baptizing a newborn, and preaching at a mid-week worship service arranged to coincide with our visit. Congregation members provided hints that their worship life has suffered recently, mostly due to a lack of a clear leader in spiritual questions. Dean Manfred Brockmann in Vladivostok has made efforts throughout the years to support the congregation by sending interns there, but one of their clear needs is to develop their own lay leaders; Chita is not moving anywhere closer to any other city and the nearest full-time pastor is still two time zones away (in either direction.) I hope that I was able to provide them with the resources they need in order to take steps toward resolving this issue for themselves. We left the city knowing that there is much more to do there and with prayers that they can gain strength both through developing internal resources and by finding new ways to relate to those outside. 

   Then Len and I hoped on the train once again, continuing our westward journey another day to Irkutsk, where Pastor Thomas Graf Grote met us VERY early at the train station. He was our kind guide around the area for the day we were there, taking us to the amazing Lake Baikal – where our walk turned rather meditative as we stopped trying to shout over the wind – and to the impressive museum of wooden architecture, Tal'tsy.

   As we drove around the area and as we conversed with Thomas in his home, he spoke to us about his ministry. This helped prepare us for meeting congregational leaders in Shelekhov, an Irkutsk suburb, late that evening. We began only at 8 pm, since a number of key people were busy until that time either at work or at their (para-church) ministry with developmentally challenged children. (This ministry, together with the other aspects of Pastor Thomas' story, are worth a separate blog post some time...)

 The group of congregational leaders gathered that evening once again brought us hope – they were clearly people who cared deeply about their faith and were open and energetic enough to think creatively about the ways the church might develop. Len spoke with them about congregational life cycles and re-assured them with words he repeated frequently throughout our travels; they sound something like this when translated back into English from the Russian - “God gives you everything you need for mission in this time and this place.” Insofar as the congregation anticipates changes in the next few years, it was a timely conversation, even if it was only a start. From discussions with Pastor Thomas both immediately after the meeting and when we met again a couple of weeks later I learned that in Shelekhov they intend to continue their work together in order to grow in their sense of the Spirit's leading. 
   From Irkutsk we needed to make it quickly to Omsk in order to take part in the last day of the ELCUSFE synod assembly. Regretfully, then, we exchanged the train for a plane in order to catch one of the relatively few flights that directly connects Siberian cities with one another. While the flight was fine, I already missed the train's rhythms, the gently swaying cars, contemplating the scenery for hours on end...everything, actually, except the heat. It was good to know that, though the longest trips were behind us, we still had plenty of transsibing to do before the month was through. 

Transsib |trænz-SÍB| verb [intransitive]

   The title of this entry includes a word that, of course, exists in no other dictionary than the one in my mind. But some words virtually demand to be brought into existence. Riding through northern Asia on the train is certainly a unique mode of travel, and after celebrating its centennial recently I think that the Trans-Siberian Railroad deserves its own verb. 
   Len Dale and I were not on a leisure trip, of course – if  we were we would have found a train that left Khabarovsk at a reasonable hour and whose wagons would have been new and modern. As it was, however, for us the scheduling of congregational events held priority and that meant getting on the train after midnight and putting up with an antiquated system of heating the passenger cars that slowly roasted us over the next few days and nights. 

   I had ridden significant portions of the Trans-Siberian before, mostly in my time in service as a pastor and acting dean based in Novosibirsk. In western and central Siberia it can seem like the birch forests and fields of cereal grains go by at 50 mph for  whole days at a time. There was some birch in the east, too, but also a greater variety of hills, steppe, thick coniferous and mixed forests, rivers and streams. On this trip stops between Khabarovsk and Chita (our next destination) were even less frequent than in other places of the “magistral” – about twice in 24 hours there was a stop of 20 minutes or more, with 1-2 minute stops every four hours or so. I knew that this area (“Zabaikalsky krain” and the “Amurskaya oblast”) was among some of the least densely populated areas along the Trans-Siberian, and we rode through abandoned villages with some frequency. At the same time, there were enough people living there that I thought of what life must be like in rural Siberia, and it made me miss home. 

   As we approached Chita and saw the spreading urban development, I couldn't help thinking about what it is like coming in to Billings – a place that is not very large in terms of its population, but important insofar as it is the biggest town for many miles around. Chita, though, is bigger, older, and draws in people (for shopping, trade, and work) from an entire time zone. As with Magadan, Chita has a reputation in Russia as a city where the people (as the joke goes) have been in prison, are in prison, or are planning to go to prison in the near future. Our experience there, however, was wholly positive; we stayed in the charming older part of the city which, like with almost all Russia cities, has a mix of new buildings, restored older buildings, and buildings that are still occupied though they should be condemned for safety's sake. 

The oldest building in Chita, now a museum, formerly a
church used by the Decemberists who were exiled to Siberia

   We spent three days with the tightly-knit, multi-generational Lutheran congregation there, made up of two or three extended families and explored with them how God might be calling them to develop their ministries. We introduced ourselves and our work there by reading the story of Paul's meeting with Christ in Acts 9, using the very simple method of asking three questions about a text: “What is God doing here?” “What are the people of God doing here?” “How does this apply to us?” These discussions helped us get a sense of what was important to them, which was, most of all, raising their kids (which are many!) in the faith. One of the men there, Viktor, shared how he taught his kids to pray in part because his parents never taught them, and he knows his own life has been enriched thanks to prayer. Together with them we realized that God had put among them a desire to grow in discipleship and Christian education at all levels.
  That is a long-term goal; Len and I were able to meet some of their immediate needs by leading worship with Holy Communion, baptizing a newborn, and preaching at a mid-week worship service arranged to coincide with our visit. Congregation members provided hints that their worship life has suffered recently, mostly due to a lack of a clear leader in spiritual questions. Dean Manfred Brockmann in Vladivostok has made efforts throughout the years to support the congregation by sending interns there, but one of their clear needs is to develop their own lay leaders; Chita is not moving anywhere closer to any other city and the nearest full-time pastor is still two time zones away (in either direction.) I hope that I was able to provide them with the resources they need in order to take steps toward resolving this issue for themselves. We left the city knowing that there is much more to do there and with prayers that they can gain strength both through developing internal resources and by finding new ways to relate to those outside. 

   Then Len and I hoped on the train once again, continuing our westward journey another day to Irkutsk, where Pastor Thomas Graf Grote met us VERY early at the train station. He was our kind guide around the area for the day we were there, taking us to the amazing Lake Baikal – where our walk turned rather meditative as we stopped trying to shout over the wind – and to the impressive museum of wooden architecture, Tal'tsy.

   As we drove around the area and as we conversed with Thomas in his home, he spoke to us about his ministry. This helped prepare us for meeting congregational leaders in Shelekhov, an Irkutsk suburb, late that evening. We began only at 8 pm, since a number of key people were busy until that time either at work or at their (para-church) ministry with developmentally challenged children. (This ministry, together with the other aspects of Pastor Thomas' story, are worth a separate blog post some time...)

 The group of congregational leaders gathered that evening once again brought us hope – they were clearly people who cared deeply about their faith and were open and energetic enough to think creatively about the ways the church might develop. Len spoke with them about congregational life cycles and re-assured them with words he repeated frequently throughout our travels; they sound something like this when translated back into English from the Russian - “God gives you everything you need for mission in this time and this place.” Insofar as the congregation anticipates changes in the next few years, it was a timely conversation, even if it was only a start. From discussions with Pastor Thomas both immediately after the meeting and when we met again a couple of weeks later I learned that in Shelekhov they intend to continue their work together in order to grow in their sense of the Spirit's leading. 
   From Irkutsk we needed to make it quickly to Omsk in order to take part in the last day of the ELCUSFE synod assembly. Regretfully, then, we exchanged the train for a plane in order to catch one of the relatively few flights that directly connects Siberian cities with one another. While the flight was fine I already missed the train's rhythms, the gently swaying cars, contemplating the scenery for hours on end...everything, actually, except the heat. It was good to know that, while the longest trips were behind us we still had plenty of transsibing to do before the month was through. 

"Sektanty" as Faithful Disciples

  From Magadan Len and I flew south to Khabarovsk; we spent four days with two congregations in the Khabarovsky krai. Clear skies during the flight allowed us to see the incredible beauty of Russia's eastern coast and the Amur River region. The area is very sparsely populated, and from the air it seems to be a vast wilderness inviting you to explore...from what local residents told us, though, bears might not take too kindly to human visitors tramping through their territory!

  Well, we didn't have any time for camping anyway. Our hope instead was to raise questions and provide tools for congregations that might help them develop a sense of their own, particular call in and for their communities. Len provided many years of experience in the field and knowledge about the process of congregational transformation; my job was to translate and, from time to time, adapt and add in a way that would be appropriate to the cultural context.

  One of the realities that we ran in to again and again is the degree to which Lutheran (and any non-Russian Orthodox, really) congregations are at a disadvantage here in terms of people's stereotypes. “You don't have a church building?” their neighbors ask. “Well, then you must be a 'sektanty' (said with the same intonation that we might say “cult members” in English to speak of those who belong to a dangerous religious group). People who are less set in their stereotypes might ask - “how does your faith differ from Christianity?” You can imagine, then, what a challenge it is to even get a sense of how to talk to people in a way that witnesses to the Gospel without in any way “stealing sheep” from our sisters and brothers in the Orthodox church.

  In the Far East, though, groups of mostly professional people (doctors, musicians, artists, businessmen and most especially teachers) have found their way to our small congregations and have made their spiritual home there. Because of their life situation, though, they run in to a problem we see frequently in the West – the busyness of lay leaders, some of whom are on the edge of burnout. On this trip I noticed again just how difficult it is for working-age people to find time to meet on weekdays, and so our first couple of mid-week meetings were rather disappointing. By the weekend, though, we were visiting St. Catherine's Lutheran, a congregation that was dealing with yet another extra layer of difficulty – their location. Located a 6+ hour bus ride north of the Trans-Siberian railroad, they get pastoral visits even less frequently than others in the region.

  In spite of that, the congregation remains committed to the Gospel and to one another, led by a team of gifted lay women. Len and I found it a joy to work with them and to share in their fellowship. It is my prayer that the Lord would provide opportunities for them to widen their circle so that others may join them on the journey of discipleship.  

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.