Up late, and everything was coming to me

Sunday, April 9, 2006
Amen, this is one of the good days when you feel like prayers are answered. I was feeding Alicia her Gold Flakes as we were rushing downstairs to meet Larissa by the art store to catch the Marshutka. We took the wrong one and ended up taking a brisk morning walk, getting to the church on time. It was the first full service in the new building. It was such a good feeling and good service that I didn't hardly even notice what I think is a bad precedence of turning all the "church events" back to the church building. Sasha preached today on Luke 19, Zacchaus, which was one of those Spirit moments, because I had already planned to mention him in the communion talk this morning. Which was an edification to the chruch that we are all guests at Christ's banquet table and that his wishes are that every one of his guests be at peace with one another as they sit to Table.

Our next venture was the invitation to go to "children's church" for lack of a better description. Nena, Lena and some of the other ladies have been hosting this for years-- so that they can say "these children have grown up together doing this." They were waiting for us at the apartment door at noon when we walked back from church. There were 10 kids from about age 8 through early teens. They read stories about Jesus the Christ, did a story board thing on (who Kurt Kloninger calls) "Blind Bart" (Mark 10:46-52), Luke 18:35-42) Nina prayed for everyone there by name. Then later, each child was given the chance to pray. Lena said that a year ago, none of them were praying and that they were learning. (they have to learn somewhere!) It was organized like school, they all were well behaved and attentive, they were helpful and respectful, they helped set up the room for "class", each of them had a notebook and pens and pencils. Toward the end, they played a cassette tape and sang several contemporary sounding songs, and everyone joined in with the music on the tape and sang heartily. They sang many songs. I have always heard that singing is a good indication of the spirit of a people. At the end, they all were served a few pieces of candy on pretty serving dishes, the kind of candy like those orange slices you get at Christmas.

We went to Nena's house for dinner. We drank the juice from Birch trees. The first batch we tried was fermented for a little while and tasted of lemon (which was added). The second batch was fresh, just brought in by our host Ivan (pronounced E-von-- and it doesn't make sense to them when I tell them that's my Mom's name because it's a man's name here. Ivanna is the "ona" version of Ivan).

Which brings me to a cultural side note: there are many people here with the same name. Lots of Lena's. A few Larissa's. Two Ireena's at church this morning. When I was in Russia, there were Gala's and Olga's. Our transaltor, Larissa, she and her husband Max both were born and raised in Sumy. She said it's a very Ukrainian thing to do. Even they know that Americans are prone to move around a lot. We have discussed the way they learn English. Many of them have studied English in school, but have had few chances to speak it. There is a difference between English (Great Britain) and American English. We all know that, but think how confusing it would be for "eenostranceeyas" (foreigners) to our native tongues.

We've learned things about the difference in the Gregorian Calendar, the Orthodox calendar and the Catholic, which is the Western Calendar. They had their annunciation celebration just yesterday, Saturday April 8. And count forward nine months, and you have their Christmas. They told us over dinner today that they are celebrating both Christmases and I'm thinking, maybe we should too! We are excited to be here for Easter, which they still call "Passover" here. They have big mass-ive celebration at the Orthodox church. They gather for blessings in large numbers to have blessing water thrown on them by the priests. They also bring special cakes called "Pascas" to have water thrown on them for a blessing, too. (Wet cake). They also have a tradition of baskets, but instead of confections, theirs are filled with meats, breads, and perhaps a bottle of wine.

All these were topics over dinner today, which lasted all afternoon. Ukrainians are very hospitable. And there are lots of built in "please"s and "thank you"s in their common speech. They even have a different inflected ending for R-E-S-P-E-C-T (I'm spelling it for you, Aretha). But these church folks are really treating us well. We have sat in the apartment many hours wishing and praying for some fellowship and God delivers us into it when it seems the sweetest.

It is common at a dinner for the host/hostess to disappear for long periods during the course of dinner....and the word "course" is appropriate because there are more than one. We started today with Ukrainian Borsh. We didn't mention it today, but I had made my own version on Saturday for lunch-- and dinner, too. Ivan's was better though... he added tomatoe to the base and took the freedom to add chicken. Tasted like some lemon grass in there, too. We were sitting around the coffee table in the main room. The former Soviet countries have honed Spartan living down to an art. Their apartments are not very spacious, but they make the best of every corner. And some of the major appliances are smaller than those in the US.

We learned some political struggles going on in Ukraine--- Alicia was shocked by the impact of a corrupt government on the "people." Several of the church members' jobs are in jeopardy because members of high government positions have extorted monies and abused their powers for personal gain (isn't that politician's jobs?!) But the elections are over, there were surprises and the people are very hopeful, but the big-whigs of the government (IMO) need to join the global market economy in order to become competive in the world market place and to keep their people living at the standard they now enjoy.

There are many interesting changes that have taken place over the last several years. The HOPE-O-meter fluctuates with the winds of change. Some, like Dina, Nina's daughter expatriated herself 8 years ago to Greece. About fifteen years ago was the last of some of the public benefits like "free housing." Of course, nothing's free. The big companies used to form lists of their workers who were in "line" for a home. They would build apartments in the cities and every worker, after waiting about 20 years, would recieve a home-- for life. This apartment they recieve is theirs until they die. It cannot be sold without going through a lot of paper work beuracracy, but it can be willed. These policies are still in lace, even though the "giveaway" ended about fifteen years ago. And of course, there are abuses to this period of change. Where Ivan and Nina's apartment is (formerly Anatoli and Lucy's), there is an upstairs flat which was formerly occupied by an old man. He usually stayed in his apartment, but he was always friendly to Ivan and Nina. He verbally promised them that he would will them the apartment, but died before they filled out the paper work with him. So some strangers come from "the village" to claim the apartment with some phony paperwork saying the old man visited with them on X date and signed over the apartment. Which was a lie because he was home all day that day. They talk to Ivan saying, well, this apartment is worth about X number of Greevan, so you give us half that, we'll forget this ever happened. Ivan said they are mafia. It's now tied up in the courts.

One of the changes that have taken place is celebrated by the Christians here: a new-found freedom of religion. Just a few number of years ago, the open discussion and practice of religion was forbidden (this from the mouths of those who live here). They praise the Lord and attribute this blessing to the Lord. There are still hold backs of the "old days" though... Lena told me that some orphans joined the church services here at Sumy a few years ago and the church was glad to have them. Before they could come back again, the director said they couldn't come back because the church was not Orthodox. Since Orthodox is the "official church", since they were a state agency, they could not sponsor this "church activity." Sorta sounds like America doesn't it? This is the kind of separation between church and state I believe USA founding Father's were talking about.

I asked about the Ukrainian prisons today. Since Jesus said so, I think it's a good ministry tactic to visit prisons. They would be a wonderful place to minister. And the hope of the spirit of God would be the only thing that would make one of these prisons a wonderful place. Lena (not Bryan) was surprised that there is a segment of the prison population in America who would rather committ a crime to "live good" in prison than live on the street (or get a job and try to lead a productive life). Some missionaries believe that the thin window of opportunity in some of the old Soviet countries is closing as the charm of the West has faded (including a fascination to hear an American speak, even if it was religion)

During our walk back to Nena's from children's church, Lena told me a great true story of faith: the apartment the church owns (which Lena and Julia live in now, also used for the Bible studies and children's church)... years ago it was broken into by a couple of thugs probably looking for money. There actually was some, but "The Lord helped us" and they didn't find it. They just took some coffee and tea or something silly like that. Well, a few years later, a stranger came knocking on the door of the flat while the church was having a Bible study. The man imposed himself on the study to make an announcement that he was the man who had broken in. He had been imprisoned for another crime and had asked the Lord into his life in prison. Upon his return to Sumy, he wanted to make amends so he came to apologize. He is currently still an active member where Larissa goes to church.

After our evening, we were accompanied to the "post office" which is not a place for letters at all. "Poshta" is the name of it, and it's really a call center. You go and pay some money and get to pay a few greeven a minute for international calls, even less I'm sure for local. There are about thirty phone booths and a few tellers behind glass in the room. We didn't even think to ask people how to call-- we were waiting to get our cell phone service to work (sim cards and unlock codes). But now we have spoken to Clinton and Kelley, left message on mom's and dad's answering machines, and learned that when it clicks funny, that means you're out of time.