Third General Synod of ELCROS Undertakes Major Structural Reform

Over 40 delegates from around the Former Soviet Union took part in the General Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Russia and Other States (ELCROS) September 16-19 in St. Petersburg. They were joined by guests and friends, both local and international, from both Lutheran churches and ecumenical partners.

The Synod, the first since 2005, gathered together around the theme “Fellowship Over Borders;” it was the reality of borders (in particular, cultural and political changes in the post-Soviet climate) that presented the greatest challenge for the delegates. For while all of the churches do face a number of common problems (searching for a new, multi-ethnic Lutheran identity first among them), the legal and financial challenges of remaining together were particularly apparent in the months that led up to the meeting. In the end, delegates made changes to the constitution of the church so as to avoid the legal ambiguities caused by the previous situation, i.e., a single, multi-national church.

The way these changes are to be incarnated are yet to be seen. What is clear at present is that the legal entity that was ELCROS has now become the Evangelical Lutheran Church, uniting two regional churches - the Evangelical Lutheran Church in European Russia in the west and, in the east, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of the Urals, Siberia and Far East. Delegates chose Bishop August Kruze (background, below) of the Siberian church to be the new Archbishop, though Dr. Edmund Ratz (former ELCROS Archbishop - foreground) will remain on for some time to assist in the transition.

The Russian churches will be united with the churches abroad (the largest of which are the German Evangelical Lutheran Church of Ukraine and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Kazakhstan, which are joined by smaller bodies in Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Georgia and Belarus) by covenants of agreement and through common ministries, regulated by a committee of delegates from all member churches. At present it is planned that the Russian churches will continue to provide educational, public relations, and women's ministries resources for all of the former ELCROS congregations.

The changes undertaken at this meeting were vast, and it is likely to take a number of years before the effects of the changes become clear. The needs of Lutherans in this area, as they strive to preach the Good News despite small size, isolation, and meager resources, are still great. It is not clear, in fact, that the new structure will meet these needs. And yet, I feel privileged to be accompanying my brothers and sisters here on their journey, and am confident that God will continue to work wonders even through all our flaws and all the challenges we face.

Dorogi - Russian Roads

There is a saying here attributed Nikolai Gogol - "Russia suffers from two grave misfortunes - fools and roads." When traveling by car here, the latter is particularly apparent. But when it comes to Russia's other roads, its railroads, they make getting around here a relatively easy, if relatively slow, process. Last week, the boys and I helped along our cultural re-integration after the summer away and took the train (36 hrs each way) to Rostov. The reason for this? That takes us back to the first misfortune of Gogol's quote.

That's probably being too harsh. But over the past two years of trying to find a way to avoid the hassles of getting a visa every year (with that chance that I could be rejected), I've not yet learned to love the Russian bureaucracy (or, for that matter, to learn how to spell bureaucracy without spell check). As I attempt to get permanent residency here, I have to get all my documents processed in Natasha's hometown, even though it is one, nation-wide agency that works on immigration questions. In way with my current status I have to get a new exit visa every time I want to leave the country - that happens only in Rostov (where there are only 4 hrs a week available for submitting such

applications), and only after the FSB (the successor to the KGB) does a background check on me (which takes up to 6 weeks). And so, I'll be going to Rostov again in October in order to have the chance to leave Russia in an emergency, or to get to Finland to talk with my dissertation adviser.

Yet, this little adventure is not so bad, preciously because the "fools" seem to have so little in common with the actual people I meet when traveling here. In the 3rd class wagon that we took, sure we were a little crowded (with the 3 of us all sleeping on one of the bunks you see to the right), but the boys and I had lots of people to talk and play with, people who,

inevitably, shared their food and their stories.

The way back to St. Petersburg was particularly

interesting. There our wagon was full of families

with young children, coming back from their vacations in the resort areas or with families in the south. Our neighbors across the aisle were traveling with their 8-month old son, Andrey, who really was interested in his older peers. Since our train got in at 3.50 n the morning, nearly 2 hrs before the subway opened, his parents, Marusa (Maria) and Tolik (Anatoly) kindly offered to give us a ride home with their friend who was to pick them up. This sounded great. And here, Gogol's two grace misfortunes meet.

Maria and Anatoly's friend stuffed all our things into his Russian station wagon and we were off. On the way from St. Petersburg to the seminary (a little over a mile outside of the city limits), we have to pass by a police post. The police can stop any car without reason, and, this time, the Russian station wagon looked like a good target. Our driver got out of the car and showed the police his documents...and didn't come back. 10 minutes. 15. 20. Finally, Tolik went to look for him. Our driver, it turns out, was driving with a suspended license. He was deep into negotiations with the policeman, who was threatening a jail sentence of 15 days. And so, we waited some more. All the money we had between us wouldn't be enough to get him out of the situation, though this was obviously the policeman's hope. And so, eventually, our driver worked it out that the policeman would take him to his apartment to get the remainder of the $1000 it was going to take to get him and the car out of there.

By then, though, the Buerkle clan had already split. It was 5.30 in the morning, and we had been given the rare chance to take an early morning walk down our last stretch of road. For now.

"Home"

Every two years, as the days of my home assignment draw to a close, I get hit by a rather strange nostalgia - "this will be the last free continental breakfast I'll eat in two years;" "time to stop expecting strangers to make conversation;" "I wonder if it will get over 80 degrees in St. Petersburg in the next 12 months?" These little things that pull me back to my home country, it seems to me, are part of my coping mechanism - they help distract me from the hardest thing about going back to Russia - people. While I'm quite blessed by those with whom I have a chance to serve, our travels this summer helped me realize once again the great group of friends and supporters we are leaving behind, both among those whom we saw and those whom we did not. If you are reading this from the U.S., know just how much I appreciate you. If you are reading this from Russia, know that, even if I might seem a little homesick for the next couple of weeks, I really do consider my life here as my call. I feel privileged to be even a very little part of all of your lives.

Visits to Sponsoring Congregations

In July, Natasha, Matvey, Martin and I visited congregations throughout the great state of Montana (and its not-so-shabby neighbors, Idaho and Wyoming) as part of our "home assignment" for ministry with Global Mission of the ELCA.

View Summer 2009 in a larger map

If all goes well, here you'll be able to see a map of where we've been so far.

After that I'll be going to Missiouri and California to visit great sponsoring congregations there.

Russian Orthodox Church Elects New Leadership - the effect on other Christian churches

Elected in the year before the fall of the Soviet Union, Patriarch Alexei II died on December 5th, 2008, after heading the Russian Orthodox Church for 18 years. Alexei, while born into an Orthodox family, had experience with other confessions from his youth - he was born in the capital of then-independent (and mostly Lutheran) Estonia, Tallinn, and spent many of his first years in church service in congregations in that country (by then already a part of the Soviet Union). Alexei rose quickly through the church hierarchy (something which at that time could only happen with the blessing of Soviet officials) and was an active participant in ecumenical affairs in the years before the fall of the Soviet Union. Alexei’s growing up in a predominately Lutheran country and his good relationship with former ELCROS Archbishop Kretschmar certainly contributed to the better-than-average relations between the two communions in Russia.
However, the 1990s showed a slow but consistent movement by the Orthodox church to hindering the work of other Christian confessions here, especially by influencing the laws of registration of religious groups and by attempting to gain a monopoly on the teaching of religion in schools. Granted, many groups deserved to be treated harshly - without seriously attempting to understand Eastern Christianity, it was dismissed as "not Biblical," and therefore no meaningful dialogue was possible. It was no surprise, then, that once elected Patriarch, Alexei did all he could to regain the church’s position in the country (and in the Orthodox world in general) after 70 years of repression. In this he no doubt had a great measure of success. Literally tens of thousands of congregations have been re-opened since the fall of the Soviet Union, and Alexei did much to organize the structures, funding, and educational programs that such restoration required. It is here, however, that there is the most room to criticize Alexei’s (and his successor's, Kirill's) legacy. The church clearly has business interests, though there is no transparency or financial accountability for them. Some have speculated about the wisdom of the symbiotic relationship between the church and the state that has developed in which the church is given access, influence and financial advantages by the while the church gives unquestioning support for government decisions (in particular during the two Chechen wars). In addition, Orthodoxy in Russia faces a challenge insofar as structures of the church are now so closely tied to the surrounding culture that in some ways they also reflect the weaknesses of the culture (for example, corruption).
The importance of Alexei for Russia can be seen by the reaction of the public to his death. Between eighty and one hundred thousand people lined up outside of the Church of Savior in Moscow to pay last respects to Alexei as he lay in state.
The Orthodox Church was fortunate to find a worthy successor of Alexei in Metropolitan Kirill. Kirill was well-known in Russia even before his election as Patriarch in the end of January - he was the Church’s media representative, and led a well-produced weekly program on state-run television. It was this program and some of the things Kirill had to say during its broadcast about other Christian groups that made many non-Orthodox Christians rather nervous when they heard, after Alexei's death, that Kirill was a leading candidate for the post. On the other hand, it also became clear as the months went past that Kirill was not from the "right-wing" of the church - not by far. A recently excommunicated Bishop in the Russian Far East was an example of a reactionary form of Orthodox (rather apocalyptic in character, very anti-ecumenical) that is relatively popular among "serious" believers.

Non-eastern Christians, then, can be glad that the council of the church elected a very talented new leader – a competent theologian, an able administrator, and a successful populizer of Russian Orthodox values in wider society. And while it is probably not realistic to hope for great gains in ecumenical dialogue under Kirill (despite his activity in ecumenical circles early in his career), the Orthodox Church under Kirill should at least have the resources to resist those elements within itself that would tear it out of dialogue with other churches. This gives us good reason to pray for this man, whose influence is great, that he might enable all Christians here to work for clear preaching of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in our words and in our deads.

Southern Ossetia

After 70 years of particularly cruel treatment by Soviet authorities, this mountain people (for centuries subject to one or another of its stronger neighbors) longed to gain independence. And, as was the tradition amongst nearly all the peoples of the Caucuses, they were willing to take up arms to defend themselves. The fight frequently looked like clan-warfare – kidnappings and public executions, pillaging and rape, blood feuds that could simmer for decades, waiting for the time to be ripe to reap revenge. Yet, this was more than a local conflict – larger powers (with their larger geo-political and economic interests) were involved, carefully planning the course for their goals to be met, regardless of what happened to those ordinary folks who called this mountain country their home.
These words apply not only to the violence in Southern Ossetia and Georgia. Sadly, they could be used to speak of many conflicts (the most well-known of which are the wars in Chechnya) in the past 15 years.
The understanding (and, even more so, the media coverage) of these conflicts look quite different from those writing on different sides of the struggle; western and Russian sources each seem to enjoy painting a black-and-white picture of events that turns one side into a hero and the other side in to “the aggressor.” But what is clear from here is that both sides were aggressive – Russia in laying all the groundwork for war by giving people in break-away regions outside of their country Russian passports (thereby having a reason to come to “the defense of our citizens”) and by resisting changes to the status-quo of de facto independence for Southern Ossetia and Abkhazia, which de jure remained Georgian territories. Russia was even less adept in finding an opportunity to improve its image abroad in its response to what apparently was a military operation initiative by Georgia – instead of remaining as actual peacekeepers, it is clear that the Russian military desired to punish Georgia and, particularly, its president, for trying to re-integrate these regions. Russia’s response was clearly over the top if it were truly interested only in how the peoples of these lands were living. Yet, clearly Russia alone is not at fault. The status quo, no matter how bad it was, was less violent that the all-out war of the early 1990s; these small ethnic groups did truly desire independence and suffered under Georgian rule. It seems that Georgia’s supporters in the West, directly or indirectly, gave the Georgian President reason to think that he could and should take a “now or never” opportunity to bring the territories back into Georgian control. However, Georgia succeed only in pushing the republics further (much further, no matter what one might think about Russia’s recognition of independence for the two territories) away.
And while all of this politics is going on, thousands of refugees pour in Russia from Tskhinvali and surrounding regions, while the Russian military causes enormous damage as it pounds its way through Georgian cities, villages and ports far from the actual zone of conflict.
The last weeks have been filled with two countries’ PR-campaigns, each selling its own version of the war. One sells the story of a victim, beat up by an aggressive bully-of-a-neighbor with no respect for international law or even human life. The other side tells the story of delusional president whose love of power at home (while boot-liking abroad) led him to attempt a “genocide” of one (or two) of the proud peoples of the Caucuses. If one thinks even for a moment about the positions the two sides take in other conflicts (e.g., Kosovo, and especially if one considers the West to be unconditionally supportive of Georgia, as is frequently portrayed here), one loses any illusion that either side is defending any sort of moral principle; instead, each defends their own self-interest (and interest in making the other look bad) at the expense of the simple people who are most affected by these political games.
The human suffering has already been great. The ripple effects are likely to be wider – Georgia is today threatening to cut diplomatic ties with Russia. Does that mean that the young woman the Georgian Lutheran Church who was planning to send to study at our seminary will not be able to make it? Will the rhetoric eventually simmer down, or will we continue to see headlines such as “Will there be War with America?” as one popular and respected Russian news weekly asked on its cover this week?
I would ask you to pray for all political leaders involved in the conflict in one or another – they will need great wisdom to bring the people of the region safely out of the mess that has been made. Prayers, too, that the political conflict does not take on an even more distinct ethnic character – if it does, the up to one million Georgians in Russia and the thousands of Russians in Georgia could become the target of violence. I’d ask you to pray for the churches here, that they could raise a collective and prophetic voice in defense of those who suffer.
As I write this, it seems to me that the worst days of this conflict are behind us. I pray that, by God’s will, I am right.

Turkish Coffee Gone Bad

Once you've developed a taste for it, it's hard to resist Turkish coffee. In my first years in Russia, this stove-top coffee was just going out of style, making way for the much cheaper and faster Nescafe instant. And now that a second coffee revolution is taking place, expensive European espresso is easier to find than the gritty, old-fashioned coffee associated with places further south and east.

Recently, though, we've learned to make Turkish coffee at home; it helps me get through the sleeper hours after noon. There's just one problem - making it. It takes time. Three teaspoons of coffee, one of sugar, mix and put over medium flame until just starting to boy. One really should simply stand next to the stove and wait in order for it to turn out right, because if you don't time it right, the result is what you see in this picture. And the coffee's not any good either. It happens to me no less than once a week.

Turkish coffee has become a symbol for me of the difficulties I face in mission here. On the one hand, I try to accept the gift this culture has presented to me (this new drink); on the other hand, my multi-tasking, American self has a hard time waiting and watching closely so that I might enjoy the gift to its fullest. The same goes when contributing to the two-way exchange that is mission - those gifts I try to share are not always accepted in the way that I had hoped; not always is it possible for the other to wait at the stove while the grinds transform into a the intended gift.

Once again I'm convinced of the crucial need for patience. May the Lord grant it to me and all of those I'm trying to make coffee for.

Ministry at the Novosaratovka Theological Seminary

Internships
The Theological Seminary has been operating for much of the last two years on a significantly reduced theological faculty – from five teachers in 2005 to three now (we are hoping for a fourth teacher to arrive from Germany this autumn). Our most severe need is in Practical Theology; since we don’t have a person directly responsible for this area, I’ve been asked to direct the seminary’s contextual education.
Fall was filled with calling bishops and congregations and talking with them about the possibilities of arranging an internship in their church; the early winter months were spent working out details. As February was coming to an end, we were able to complete the final step before internship – a short seminar with students to help them in the difficult (and quite quick) transition from seminary student, concentrated on his/her final exams, to congregational intern. In the first weeks of March, then, all 11 students were able to leave for their internship sites and begin what for many of them was the goal of seminary education – on-the-ground pastoral ministry; at the same time, it will be for some of them the most difficult and frightening part of seminary – engaging their theological ideas with ordinary people in the often difficult realities of parish life.
Together with this newsletter, you’ll find a map of the former Soviet Union. There you’ll find blue tacks on those cities where we have an intern, and get a sense of the incredible distances that are a part of church life in ELCROS. From west to east the internship cites are: Odessa (Ukraine), St. Petersburg, Kharkov (Ukraine), Moscow, Volgograd, Kazan, Perm, Astana, Pavlodar (both Kazakhstan), Bishkek (Kyrgyzstan), and Vladivostok.

Graduate Update
For those of you who have been reading my newsletters for some time, you might be interested in reading about the ministries of recent seminary graduates.
There were five graduates in 2007. One of these, Igor, was from the extension program; he was ordained in the summer and continues to serve in my former congregation in Novgorod. While none of the other graduates are yet ordained, most are engaged in interesting work: Sofia has received grants from the ELCA and German parachurch organizations to work on developing a Christian website for children; Menzer is back in her native Azerbaijan, where, along with her quiet evangelism efforts, she has received support from a Norwegian missionary organization and UNICEF to work with children in at-risk families; Andrey is back in his native Siberia, where he is working for the synod office and the congregation in Omsk as director of educational programs and publicity, and where he also does pastoral work (without ordination – he feels like he’s still too young to be ordained, and has asked his church not to rush things!) Our final graduate, Dmitri, began to serve in Belarus this fall. Unfortunately, Dima has already had to give up this position. While very talented academically and with a very deep sense of the need to make the church more “local,” (i.e., less tied to German language and traditions) Dima’s enthusiasm for church reform was too much for the congregation to which he had come. Regrettably, Dmitri’s case is not unique, and the seminary continues to struggle with finding ways to help its students develop a firm sense of theological identity while at the same time not imposing their views on congregations, even despite the lack of mature, healthy development in many congregations of this church. Dima is taking some time off, and hopes to return to church work in a year.

Classes
This spring I have had the opportunity to teach in areas that I thought belonged already to the past – English (which I am teaching in order to cover a temporary gap in our staffing and which I taught as recent college graduate 10 years ago, but not since) and Systematic Theology (which has been in the hands of my Russian colleague, Anton Tikhomirov, for the past three years). In terms of the latter, this year we’ve decided to add a seminar-style course on the history of doctrinal development, and it has been particularly enjoyable for me as the students (whose academic qualifications are higher now than they have been compared to other recent courses) and I read together classical theology texts and try to come to an understanding of how the church’s teachings developed over time.

Easter Greetings!

When and how do we celebrate Resurrection? It is a natural question for missionaries in Russia in years like this one, when the calendars of the Russian Orthodox Church the western churches differ by so much that we celebrated Easter just as our brothers and sisters were becoming adapted to the rhythms of the Great Fast (Orthodox Lent).
Being in Lent and Easter at the same time - this situation, it seems to me, reflects the state Christians are to be in at all times - standing before both the cross and the empty tomb, meditating and acting upon both the reality of death in our world and the anticipation of God’s coming kingdom.
In these spring days, I wish you an ever-deepening sense of what has been done for us in the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and the subsequent joy and new hope that only the Resurrection life can promise. Bradn

A Day in the Life... November 25, 2007

The day started early. Too early. While one would not feel the same way in June (when by that time of morning one can already drive without headlights), in the fall and winter one's body protests against a 5:45 a.m. departure time; it's as if one's limbs know that all of nature will be arising only many hours later, and they encourage you to do the same. But there was no choice. I had to preside at the service in Novgorod at 11, and the evening before my LADA began to give forewarning of what was to come - as I drove back to the seminary after picking up the new Anglican chaplain from the airport, my 5 year-old copy of a 1960's FIAT was starting to die at every intersection. It was this that caused Natasha and I to decide that she and the kids would stay home and that I would try to take the bus.But the bus was not interested in taking me. Or, if it were not strictly the bus's fault, one can at least blame those who organize her travel. I left home at so early an hour after having failed on the previous evening to learn if there tickets were available for the early morning bus. As I arrived at the station, I was disappointed by the dark that engulfed the building. The front door was open, but everything else was closed. St. Petersburg is a city of five million, and it has only one major bus terminal. But even at that terminal, there is not one ticket counter open at 6:15 in the morning. And so, not knowing if I could find a place on the first bus but being certain that I would have to miss the service if there not, I decided to risk it, and took off in the car. As I was leaving the city, my dear “semyerka” tried again to warn me - she would not start after I stopped for a fuel-up and a purchase of windshield wiper fluid (a frequent combination at this time of year, when the temperature is just below freezing and slush covers every inch of the road.) But after giving the car a push and popping the clutch (reminding me the GEO of Berkeley seminary days, which demanded that I parked her on a hill in order get up enough speed as I gave another push-start) the car started up again, and I was off. I made it all three hours to Novgorod without incident - even the infamous traffic police (GAI) didn't stop me. It wasn’t simply my good driving or good luck, though. There was a clear reason I wasn’t stopped this time – the “gai-shniki” were too busy. Too busy stopping nearly every vehicle going in the other direction, i.e., to St. Petersburg. A protest march was scheduled for the day, and the authorities didn’t want any incidents. Any at all. So in the first hour outside of St. Petersburg, I met 3 convoys of riot police from out of town, coming into the city to support "good order." But more of that later.Returning to Novgorod, as I drove in to the city and started hitting traffic lights, the car again began to warn me that all was not well. It appeared for a while that I would need to leave the vehicle on one side of the Volkhov, while taking the city bus to the church on the other side. But after letting the car and myself cool down after two failed push-stars, in half and hour’s time the car sprung to life again, even if temporarily. And while the car was dying now even on speed bumps, I did make it to the church in plenty of time.

Lydia was there to greet (and fee) me. Every trip to Novgorod is a reminder of Russian hospitality, which Lydia incarnates. She and her husband, the pastor, Igor, live upstairs in the former office building which is St. Nikolai Lutheran Church in Novgorod. Igor had asked to take the service this Sunday, as he could not get away during the week (having recently taken on a second job, since the pastor’s pay is far from a living wage) and his father was recovering from a difficult surgery after having been diagnosed with cancer just a week before.

The Sunday was a special one in the life of the congregation. The primary reason for this was the yearly remembrance of the Saints Deceased. Local Lutheran theology has not caught up to practice and piety in regards to the importance that this day carries for people in congregations – the prayer list was just as long as the sermon (which witnesses both to the length of prayer and the shortness of the sermon). Just as important was fellowship with elderly members of the congregation, many of whom are now too weak to make it to church regularly.

The trip to church is particularly difficult for those from outlying villages. Two of these, Ekaterina Genrickovna and her niece, Galina, asked for a ride home after church. First, of course, I needed to spend a little time with members of the congregation; we conversed over coffee and more treats from Lydia while some of the new members (members of the youth group) practiced their Christmas pageant downstairs. I warned Ekaterina and Galina that the car was not in great working order, but they said that they weren’t in a hurry. Ekaterina had learned patience in her nearly years. As a German-Russian living in Stalin’s Russia, she was deported to Kazakhstan with her mother and brother. There she was immediately put to work – apparently the authorities decided there was no need for a shepherd to learn to read. Her life continued along that difficult path for decade upon decade; it is only now, as an elderly woman, that she is begging to come to inner peace.

For that reason, she could both express concern at the car’s lurching and laugh as we found ourselves making very slow progress toward her home. In the end she and Galina did take the bus, because it was clear that without taking the car in for service, we weren’t going to be leaving town…

At about the same time, the situation in St. Petersburg was developing in an interesting way. The “Dissenters' March” was on the way. This time the authorities decided that it was not in their best interests to forbid the event entirely – they had done that in the spring, and the pictures of OMON beating a photojournalist with his billy wasn’t great for PR. This time the police simply decided to let the dissenters (a very mixed crowd of representatives of all the groups (from pro-western politicians to socialist/nationalist groups) that resist contemporary developments in Putin’s Russia)) meet for a rally without letting them march. But the dissenters claimed that to march was their constitutional right…and a collision was unavoidable.

Later a representative from the European Union commented on the arrest of Gary Kasparov a day earlier at a similar rally in Moscow - "A former world chess champion does not pose a security threat to Russia."Back in Novgorod, I was able to push the car to a service station. When I let the mechanic know that it appears that I need to have the spark plugs changed, he looked at me with disdain at said, “where have all the real men gone?" As frequently happens in Russia, I felt about 2 inches high; consolation came only later when the mechanic (even with his better-than-my wrench) had to find an even bigger wrench in order to loosen the plugs. The mechanics found a few more problems as well, but for the two hours they worked on the car, the work wasn’t too expensive - 3 times less, in fact, than in the "northern capital."

But then again, perhaps it was worth what I paid.It was nearly 6 pm, and I was feeling that I was nearly home. I was enjoying listening to a radio program on "Ekho Moskvi" about early 20th century Russian philosopher Ivan Ilyin. For an hour the commentators were discussing his relevance for current Russian politicians. I was enjoying being in the country again. I asked myself “Can you find radio programs about philosophers in America? Even on NPR?

But then the adventures began again. I started losing power. The car died once, but then started again. The LADA began to backfire; even popping the clutch in 2nd gear wasn’t working any more. The machine came to a halt.

It seemed that it was just another bump in the road. The car had started again in Novgorod, hadn’t it? That means I’d simply wait, and in no time I’d be back with my family. But waiting wasn’t helping. Not after 20 minutes, not after 40. After and hour and a half, I had moved all of 200 yards. It was clearly time to enact another plan. “Should I flag down a car?” I asked myself. While that would be a typical response here, I couldn’t help but remembering an incident from the year before. It, too, involved a roadside breakdown and flagging down a car… but that’s a story for another time. For now, suffice it to say that stopping another driver on the unlit road at night was not an option.

And so, what remained? To call friends, but not many of them have a car. One was in the subway, and wouldn’t be back to his car for at least an hour. The second call was to the Seminary; they were able to send help. I was glad I had a scarf, though, because Alexander, the Seminary’s driver, wouldn’t be arriving for at least an hour and a half.

I fell off into that half-sleep that is the only possible way of sleeping when it’s too cold, until I heard a horn honking – Alexander had arrived. I had already hooked up the tow rope to the LADA, and we threw a blanket on the ground in order to hook up to the Sobol, after briefly trying to start the car once again. Alexander kindly said nothing about my lack of mechanical prowess, but simply told me to watch for slack in the rope, and we were off.

The next 90 minutes were a flash-back to the hardest days of harvest when I was a kid – the days when I had to drive the combine. Thankfully, they were few, since long after returning home from the field my mind would be racing with images of trying to keep everything under control. Being towed need not have been so bad – if only the tow row were not two times shorter than it should be, if only the battery hadn’t died, leaving me without windshield wipers even as the Sobol’s rear wheels were constantly kicking up slush from the recently rained-upon roads…

And then, suddenly, we were home. Natasha and the kids were waiting for me, along with a cup of instant coffee. The day ended late, too late. On one level, I was totally exhausted. But on another, I was filled with the sensation of how blessed I was – the people with whom I came into contact this showed me how the world over is filled with grace.

Home assignment is tiring!

We find rest wherever we can while on the road. Here - on Amtrak between Minneapolis and St. Louis.