Sowing Seeds: Joys, Challenges and Lessons Learned

I told you in plain Russian, Nyet! You're not going!

At that announcement, four children's faces fell.

Our sister Nina had run up the block to check on a family we'd met when giving out invitations for our upcoming vacation Bible school.

Sister Nina giving out invitations to our weekend children's program.

The mother had been pleasant enough with four children, school-aged and younger, milling around the doorway to their home which reminded me of the entrance to a cave. The children had been excited about something to do, all the better since it was free. But that was Sunday and now it was Friday and their dad was home.

Oh Papa, please can't we go?

I've already told you twice in plain Russian, we're Orthodox! And you are not going!

A similar scene played out in the courtyard just behind our church building. Days earlier, Danila, 10, had been excited about joining. Then on Friday our sister Lena went to check on her.

Please can I go, Babyshka? Danila called up to the 2nd floor.

Nyet! Grandma hollered down.

Back at the church gate we were waiting, balloons in hand and smiles ready, to welcome a flock of children. We were hoping for 10-15 children but, in the end, three children came, all our own. Friday night, it was 18-month-old Pasha. Then on Saturday, Daniel, 5 and his sister Madelyn, 6, joined us with their mother, our sister Lyda, who drove to Rostov from Kyshovka, their village, 75 kilometers south.

Our theme was Miracles of Jesus: Better than Magic!

While we were taken aback with such a response, we were hardly discouraged because from this first effort of reaching out to our community, we learned so much. See, we moved to the neighborhood less than a year ago. In fact, our church sign isn't out front yet. But before that can happen, our building must pass several inspections. . .

In all fairness, I can understand how a dad might be hesitant about allowing his children to come. Same with the grandmother. A cautious parent would want to know more before allowing their young ones to some activity with a group they don't know. And often it's just easier to say Nyet, you're not going than to get more information.

The Sea of Galilee, a favorite song.

As we reach out to our community, Jesus' parable of the sower and types of soil comes to mind as it represents sowing God's word and types of hearts. Of course, we hope for fertile soil. We hope for hearts open and ready to receive God's word.

Still, the response to our invitation tells us something. It tells us that first, the soil needs to be prepared. And we need to cultivate relationships, build connections and develop trust with neighborhood families.

Craft time: Amazing what can be done with berry baskets.

Another issue, in the Russian culture, our church is rather peculiar. Most folks are connected with the Russian Orthodox church, at least on a cultural level. Thus, they associate church with cathedrals and golden cupolas. Our meeting place is rather different. We meet in a modest property, one that could pass for a single-family dwelling. It includes a cafe out front but for now, we meet behind that in the 3-story house accessible through the courtyard.

* * * * *

The Saturday morning of our program, while children were upstairs in their Bible class, dear sister Lyda and I sat down to process our results and look ahead. Lyda has a background in marketing and works in mass media, so when she has suggestions, I take notes. We came up with two ideas t0 help us connect with our neighborhood.

First, we can offer cooking demonstrations such as how to bake muffins. When I whip up a batch of zucchini-pineapple muffins or carrot-raisin muffins, for instance, there are questions galore. We can capitalize on that interest. We can go door-to-door with samples and invitations. People can come for a demonstration, get the recipe and we meet us.

Secondly, we can use English for outreach. Two blocks from our building is a school where English is emphasized. I can visit the school regularly and offer homework help and conversation at our building. We could meet regularly at the church building once or twice a week.

The whole gang: What a great memory!

So while the turnout for our weekend event was less than we had hoped for, we made progress in other ways. Our teachers got more experience in planning lessons, crafts and activities. We made big progress in our classroom area. Our dear brothers hauled heavy cabinets from storage in the cafe up the narrow, steep steps to our 3rd floor classroom area.

And thus we count our efforts a success. We do what needs to be done, we learn the lessons that are to be learned. And we leave the outcome to God.

How about you, dear blog reader? Have you had an event where the turn-out or results was different that what you had hoped for? What lessons did you learn? Please share so that we can learn from your experience.

Goodbye Maxim Gorky Street: We're Moving

Since July 1999, our little church has been meeting on Maxim Gorky Street in a building that was quite a fixer upper. It's in a terrific location in the city center but we have known from the get-go that it was in a reconstruction zone.


The little white building there on the left is the entrance to our church property. And being in said reconstruction zone, means that the city recognizes the value of this property and wants it too. And we knew that eventually we would get to move. (Click to enlarge photo.)



And the time has come. We're not the only ones to go. This whole block is going, eventually. But we're of the first to go, I reckon, just because. . . Anyway, imagine wanting to raze the lovely buildings above for something more upscale. Note there on the corner the little grocery store. Oh, how handy that has been. That building's a hundred years old they say. . .


So here's in front of our building. It says Rostov Church of Christ. Found a high-fashion model to pose here for this. Poor dear, apparently she has no coat. . .


Moving right along, this is inside the front gate, looking toward Maxim Gorky Street. See the upscale apartment on the right in the near distance, that's on University Street and probably 14-or-so stories high.


So we've been busy packing up. Here's Artash our preacher packing up the office. He's a multi-talented fellow with wisdom beyond his years.




Oh, but you need to meet the whole gang. (Click to enlarge photo.) Well, this is most of us who were present on a recent Sunday. I need to mention that just because we look oh-so-serious doesn't mean that we're not happy. Let me explain: There seems to be a thing here about conserving smiles. Smiles are reserved for close friends and family. Smiles not handed out indiscriminately to people on the street. And certainly not for the camera. Oh, but ironically Funny thing, following is the scene just 30 seconds before the photo. . .



Yes, here we are just before the photo. But get the camera in there, get ready to shoot and the dynamics change. Unless of course Yours Truly happens to be behind the camera, in which case I have found that making chicken-like clucking noises does help get those smiles.



So back to the packing up: Here's Sveta with boxes of Bibles and printed material. Sveta helps with Bible distribution for Eastern European Mission.



This is Marina packing up the library. We got these wonderful metal containers from IKEA several years back. Our vast collection of materials from Truth for Today are, for the most part, catalogued and organized in them. (These are thanks to generous funding from the Cawyer family, Dallas.)



View down the tram line on Gorky Street, looking west. Because of course you might be interested how the tram line fades into the horizon.



Standing in the same spot, the Rostov Regional Library is located directly south. It's a huge library although from here, the 10-story tower is barely visible. It's a major landmark in the city and when dignitaries visit Rostov-on-Don, a visit to the library is often included in the itinerary.


From the same spot, looking north. This is University Street, which intersects there with Krasnai-Armaiskaya Street (Red Army Street), another major east-west artery in the city center.


But here's the grand prize. . .

It looks as though this might very well be our new church building. It's a fabulous single-family home with so much space and solid construction. We see no obstacles in the way to our getting this building although the final papers have yet to be signed. So we continue to hope and to pray. If it goes through, we would have 6-8 weeks before moving in. So we are in transition because this week we need to be out of the building on Gorky Street. Sunday, we were surprised and delighted when our dear sister Tanya - who comes to worship maybe twice a year nowadays - offered her large living room as our meeting place for the next few weeks. What a relief! A perfect meeting place for our transition, right in the middle of town, a good size and. . .the price is right.

And so, we are a gypsy people, in transition between buildings. And you know, when we look at the prospective building and the neighborhood in which it is located, we dream of the wonderful ways in which we as a congregation will be even better positioned to reach out to the community. Surely our best years are ahead.

What if Starbucks Were Run Like a Church?

Oh, almost funny. But it does hit home! Please come along on a visit to a unique Starbucks for an experience not unlike visiting church for the first time.






Thanks to Deb Simmons for sharing the link.

A Musical Treat: Two Russian Hymns

Eighty-two of us came together July 19th for the annual Christian Singing School held in Donetsk, Ukraine. The aim of the week-long school is to enhance congregational singing in Russian-speaking congregations. On our fourth day together, we held a public concert. The following videos are of Kostya's Ensemble, an elite group of singers, hand-picked by Konstantin "Kostya" Zhigulin, musical director of the school.



I Believe in Belief, written and composed by Kostya Zhiglin. The words of a Searcher, looking to find God, looking to find meaning in life. (Translation in progress at the YouTube site.)



Create in Me a Clean Heart: A favorite song with a new twist. Translated and arranged by Kostya Zhigulin. This version has a Slavic touch: Here transposed into a minor key with the voices coming in separately. We've sung this song better on other occasions, but still we trust that our efforts are pleasing to our Heavenly Father.

Christian Singing School: A Taste of Heaven

Eighty-some of us from across Ukraine and Russia are back home after the annual Christian Singing School. In its 16th year - give or take - the school aims to improve a cappella, congregational singing of Russian-speaking congregations. The last two years the school was held at Donetsk Christian University in southeast Ukraine. Say, care for an inside look ~ plus a 31-second listen?


(Double-click photos to enlarge.) We started Sunday evening, July 19th and here we are Wednesday morning. We didn't usually practice on the stage, but Kostya Zhigulin, our musical director, wanted us to get comfortable looking in the direction of an audience.


Wonder of wonders ~ I managed to upload video for the first time ever ~ Hooray! This little snippet can not capture the rich, full-bodied sound, but its fairly decent. . .



Oh I love it. My prayer is that in heaven we'll be singing in Russian. So beautifully polysyllabic. On the other hand, we're promised that there will be no pain in heaven. Pain and polysyllabicism: can they possibly co-exist? I think not. But then again some things are known only to God. Well, moving right along. . .



Our daily routine included sectionals. Here are the altos with Elena, our leader, a music teacher by profession and Julia, not pictured, the ultimate alto. They are so gifted with reading music. The rest of us just tagged along behind the super singers.



Twice daily we met for group choir. Here are the basses. Oh, fabulous.



We started practicing Sunday evening, 18 July. Our day was packed from 7:30 am through 8:30 pm except for a free hour after lunch. A bit more intense than I'd prefer. . . but is the photographer ever consulted about her schedule preferences? Nyet. . .


Music theory was part of our daily schedule. We were divided into groups according to our knowledge of music. Did I mention that I was in the very highest bunch? Ah yes, but only because I asked for an upgrade. And I promised to sing softly and do no harm. . .



Here's Evan's music theory class, one of maybe seven such groups. He's in the blue-purple shirt in center-right. Evan (pronounced *e-VAN* - with the soft a used in Russian - but we call him *VAN-ya,* the diminutive here in the land of diminutive-ization - You still with me on this?) sings operatic quality bass and studies music in Moscow. We have a special appreciation for Vanya because in August he's marrying our Rostov sister, Marianna, back row, toward the left. Hey, wonder how Marianna managed to get into Vanya's class, eh?


Here are the basses again. Oh so serious. So very deeeep.



Somebody's the brains behind the whole thing and that would be our brother, Wiley Dean, from near Florence, Alabama. He's a master of fund-raising, delegating and motivating. Thank the good Lord for the leaders among us. . . Especially for the servant leaders among us, such as Wiley.


This energetic group volunteered their one hour of free time each day to sing and record children's songs in Russian. Looks like they're doing The Lord's Army, above. Making a DVD of Christian songs for Russian-speaking children has been my absolute dream. But first, I'm hoping to get songs up on YouTube. In the learning mode on this, so this is baby-step by baby-step. Translation: Don't be rushin' me! Although it's true that we're in Russia, but I prefer not to be rushin' around when learning new skills. ;)

Russia Has Its Freedoms

Many freedoms exist in Russia, a fact to which I can attest. One is the freedom to choose ones apparel. This has its advantages. Like the dear grandmother pictured below who was parading around town in this jacket and head scarf on a 90-degree afternoon. She's free to do that, of course. (Double-click photo to enlarge.)

I like her selection of footwear: She went with sandals rather than boots. That's her choice. Welcome to Russia!




Say, do you know a guy who wears shorts and dark socks? He might be Russian. Send him on over. There are others of that ilk here, walking about freely on the streets.

Usually it's dark socks, black leather shoes and shorts. But with his athletic shoes, at least this fellow's going in the right direction, fashion-wise.




Freedom of apparel comes in quite handy. Myself, I've left home, thought I was reasonably presentable but mercy me, was I wrong.

I've been known to combine dark, navy capris with a black top. That's the problem with dressing in the semi-dark. Navy can pass for black. But you know what, no one even noticed. Or if they noticed, no one let on. This is something to love about Russia.


There are no fashion police here. At least not on the street where I live. And for that, I am truly thankful. Then too there's the freedom to plant flowers. Or not. And the freedom to photograph other people's flowers. Or not.


There's freedom to stop and sniff other people's flowers. Or not.




There's the freedom to paint graffiti. Just don't get caught. . .
But these words are very special. It warms my heart just to see this:

Literally, this says God is! That's Russian for, There is a God! This has been up on that wall for several years already. Even better, no one has painted over the message.



There's the freedom to worship, to gather in churches. On the left is the entrance to our church building, the white one there. We are free to worship.



We are free to post the sign at the entrance, Rostov Church of Christ. That's a wonderful freedom that not all believers enjoy. In Belarus, for instance, posting the church name on the building is forbidden. Unless, of course, it's part of the official state church. But welcome to Russia where we do have that freedom.




There is a God! He is alive.
In Him we live. . .and we survive.



For flesh is as grass and the glory of man as the flower thereof. The grass withers and the flower fades. But the word of our God endures forever. (Isaiah 40:8)

Well there's bound to be a way to segue back to the freedom of apparel. But on this Independance Day, guess what -- I'm disinclined to worry about it! Granted, this freedom thing can get taken a bit too far! ;)

Cincinnati Chili: Cheers for Local Cuisine

What would you like for Sunday lunch, Rosalie asked?

How about something local? What's unique to southwestern Ohio?

Amish cooking would have been perfect, but Der Dutchman is closed on Sunday. So Rosalie's wheels started turning and overnight she came up with Skyline Chili. Oh, I had heard of Cincinnati Chili, their specialty, and always wanted some.


And here it is. Cincinnati Chili is served on spaghetti. It might look low-calorie. But don't count on it. (Double-click photos to enlarge) Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself. . .



Skyline Chili is a chain out of southwestern Ohio. We headed there Sunday after church.


Lucky me. I got to spend time with some pretty special folks. Bill and Lowell, left and right, are elders in the South Dayton Church of Christ. What a fine congregation and I'd say that's thanks to wise leadership, for one thing. Does the local chili have anything to do with that? Well, some things are known only to God. . .


Anyhew, here's the story of Skyline Chili, simply because you might want to know. And yes, dear blog reader, I was thinking of you. . .and you. . . and YOU during lunch.

So Cincinnati Chili originated in Greece. did it?. Hey, I've been there - I've been to Greece. Somehow I missed out on Cincinnati Chili a la Aristotle.


Looks as though this evening I'll be in Dayton area again. Lucky me, I get to overnight at Rosalie and Bill's big huge old farmhouse. And guess where Rosalie wants to go for dinner? Oh, she's a smart woman. . . she knows I like local foods.


A plug for Facebook: Rosalie and I have been friends for some time, thanks to a mutual friend in Dallas (Thank you, Jan!) who realized that we both have connections to Rostov-on-Don, Russia. Rosalie and Bill had visited in 1993 or so, long before I'd ever heard of that fair city, let alone moved there. Eventually Rosalie found me on Facebook and finally we got to meet. Rosalie is a goldmine of information and experience. I want to just listen and take notes when we're together.

How about you dear blog reader, have you tried Cincinnati chili? Any idea where the sauce gets that extra, spicy kick? Or have you managed to connect with a Facebook friend for the first time?

A Wonderful Church in Kiev, Ukraine

The best thing about my gypsy life has been visiting churches across Ukraine. One lovely congregation in northern Kiev is the Obolon Church of Christ. And here are some photos. This is a large congregation with 60-some present on Sunday mornings. (Click photos to enlarge.)


A prayer for the children.


A rousing song service.


Most of the songs were in Russian, as I recall, and maybe a couple in Ukrainian. We know that hymns - in whatever language - bring joy to the heart of God.



Listening intently to the message.


People packed right up to the doorway. Being a bit crowded, a rather good problem, seems to me.


What was once a grocery store is now the church's meeting place.


Located in a typical 9-story apartment building, a short walk from the metro.


Listening to the message. The brother on the far right brought the message the Sunday I was there. Men of the congregation rotate preaching duties.


Lunch with a dear mother and daughter at a favorite cafeteria. They travel 45 minutes on public transport each Sunday to be in worship. Always a highlight to be with Christian brothers and sisters and join together in worship. A taste of heaven in advance.