September 1, 2008

Dear Friends in Christ,

I write you as I depart for the airport to fly to Poland, Russia, and Ukraine. This is my seventeenth visit with mission colleagues and church partners in these former communist countries. Tensions between Moscow and Washington over the conflict in Georgia are at the highest level since the 1991 breakup of the USSR. I take solace in our Presbyterian ministry in these places, which is about “coming alongside” historic churches as they continue to be renewed following decades of “militant atheism,” which nearly destroyed them. Our ministry is about the love of Christ in the world, and not about international politics.

As we continue to strive to be a faithful partner, understanding the challenges faced by our Baptist, Orthodox, Lutheran, and Reformed partners is crucial. This summer afforded me the opportunity to reflect on the challenges they face. The Georgian crisis forced me to reflect on the power of nationalism. A popular author telling the story of conspicuous consumption in Moscow forced me to reflect on materialism. And the vivid pictures of rural Russian life painted by an American conservationist led me to confront the power of superstition. Each presents in its own way a challenge to Christian renewal.

A dictionary definition of nationalism reminds us of “devotion to one’s country” and then extends the definition to include “an excessive, narrow, or jingoistic patriotism.” Nationalism seems to infect many these days.  From blind pride so often heard in the United States, to the pronouncements of political leaders in Russia and Georgia, where chest thumping jingoism is rampant. Skilled politicians excel in using national pride as a means to whip up anger and resentment over perceived grievances. It is the church that must stand in opposition to such calls and lift up our common humanity as God’s children.

In his call for cease fire and dialogue in Georgia, Patriarch Alexy II of the Russian Orthodox Church stated, “Among those who have lifted their hand against each other are Orthodox Christians…who are called by the Lord to live in brotherhood and love.” Pastor Vitaly Vlasenko of the Baptist Union said, “We believers must rise above the fray; rise above narrow, selfish political partisanship…God is against war in Georgia—and so we must be also.” The challenge of religious leaders to speak truth to power crosses all national borders.

Red Square’s famous GUM shopping arcades once carried merchandise for the average Russian. Now, expensive Western shops cater to a Russian elite, a tiny fraction of the population.

Earlier in the summer, Martin Cruz Smith, novelist and storyteller of the underside of contemporary Russia, shared observations in “Moscow Never Sleeps,” in the August issue of National Geographic. Smith’s portrait adds detail to the impressions that Christians form who visit Moscow in this new era. The city is “afloat in petrodollars.” It has more billionaires than any other city in the world. The late night parade of Bentleys, Lamborghinis, BMWs, and Porsches near elite clubs suggests conspicuous consumption by a privileged minority who disregard the poverty and disease of citizens all around them. Critiquing this materialism, Smith asks, “Was this what millions of Russians died for in wars and prison camps? Had they faced down a KGB coup and dismantled an empire so a few gluttons could party through the night?”

Preaching the gospel, living a faithful life, caring for “the least of these” in their midst are consistent messages we see in our relationships with Russian brothers and sisters in Christ. Clearly, there is church support for improved standards of living, but the Christian theme of “sufficiency” is confronted by the flaunted wealth of some in the face of the many. Clearly, the challenge of materialism is daunting.

The power of superstition in rural villages confronts Russian church leaders daily.

Naturalist Laura Williams took me away from the bustle of Moscow and St. Petersburg with her extraordinary account of rural life in The Stork’s Nest: Life and Love in the Russian Countryside. Living in Chukhrai, a village of 19 persons near the Ukrainian border, Williams shares both the story of the bison, moose, wolves, and storks in a protected natural area and the story of the lives of the elderly villagers in a tiny place surrounded by the Bryansk forest. While not intending to write about faith, she superbly illustrated the impact of superstition our own church partners face daily. Chants to ward off wolves and snakes, spitting three times over the left shoulder to ward off of the devil who may be lurking behind and turn one’s thoughts into reality, tossing spruce bows along the way to the graveyard to aid the soul of the deceased to find its way home—all a part of thousands of villagers lives where the church has limited or no regular presence.

When the church was crippled in the communist era, theological education and mission outreach was greatly curtailed. Today, our Presbyterian effort to support theological training, curriculum publishing, and social ministry projects are small contributions to partners as they replace superstition with the knowledge and works of Christ.

Soon I’ll board the airplane to cross continents again. The summer’s reflections on the challenges of nationalism, materialism, and superstition lead me to recommit to our mission in partnership.

• I ask for your prayers for Christians in the former Soviet Union.
• I ask for your prayers for all those who would “come alongside” to strengthen and be strengthened in their ministries.
• And, I ask for your financial support of my service so that it may continue into the year ahead.

Your brother in Christ,

The 2008 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.158