From the window of the nursery I can see the cemetery that stretches across the hill alongside the church — a field planted with rectangular stones to mark the graves of the faithful: Stauffer, Newcomer, Reiff, Funk. A couple of centuries of weather have made the older headstones undecipherable. Mennonites settled here along the Beaver Creek in the middle of the 18th century. I imagine some of the jagged and blackened gravestones honor the dead from those years. The life of this church rests on the foundations laid by those who now populate the field of graves. “We are born of the dead,” Robert Pogue Harrison writes in his book The Dominion of the Dead, “of the worlds they brought into being.” We are clothed with the faithfulness of the past: cherished histories and memories, cultures and traditions that invite us to a fresh experience of the same old gos­pel. Anabaptism is not a set of disembodied principles or core convictions. It is the legacy of the dead handed down to us in real places, through particular congregations and specific people.

For the rest of the article, follow this link: “Faith handed down, yet new.”

The Bible study before the Sunday morning worship service of Iglesia Menonita Luz del Evangelio turns into a passionate sermon. A discussion of the story of Esther becomes a call to live as the pueblo de Dios amid forces that seek to destroy the church. Haman, the villain in Esther’s story, becomes a name for political leaders and immigration enforcement agents who sever the body of Christ by taking away “los hermanos y hermanas del pueblo que no tienen papeles” — brothers and sisters who are undocumented residents. But, like the Jews in the story of Esther, “tenemos que orar“ — we need to pray because some demons require prayer and fasting. Yet no matter what happens, the pueblo of God can have faith. “Porque tenemos un abogado en el cielo, a la diestra del Padre” — we trust in Jesus Christ, our heavenly immigration attorney, arguing on our behalf, defending our citizenship in the pueblo of God. Among the various metaphors for describing the saving work of Jesus, we now have another: our Lord the immigration attorney, “el Abogado en el cielo.”

For the rest of the reflection, follow this link to the Mennonite Weekly Review: “Worship with God’s pueblo.“

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Mary Raber
Odessa, Ukraine

May Days
The irises are standing at attention and the peonies are in full bloom. Odd little snowdrifts of seed fluff from the poplar trees fill the gutters and every now and then I catch a sweet whiff of white acacia flowers. There’s a cuckoo whose territory includes the trees behind the academic building at Odessa Seminary and from time to time he reminds us of the fact with his monotonous call—like a broken clock! It must be May…

It’s certainly been a month for short working weeks! 1 May was on a Saturday, so we took the following Monday off. Some of you surely remember watching news footage of May Day parades on Red Square years ago. Although there are still political demonstrations, nothing very extravagant takes place any more; but 1 May is still a holiday, often celebrated with the first outing of the picnic season. A week later comes Victory Day on 9 May. The end of World War II (or the Great War of the Fatherland as it is known here) is solemnly commemorated with ceremonies at war memorials and other special events. Again—since it fell on Sunday, Monday was a holiday. And this week the second day of Pentecost was also celebrated as a national holiday as well.

History for the visually impaired
By far the most interesting experience of the last couple of months was working with a group of visually impaired students at Donetsk Christian University, a school I’ve been associated with for many years. During the past year DCU has offered its campus and teachers to a national mission organization that serves the blind. This mission assembled a group of fairly new Christians from all over Ukraine for several sessions of theological training to help improve their outreach to other visually impaired people. At their April meeting I was invited to give some lectures on the history of the evangelical movement in Russia.

It took time for me to realize how sharp and receptive the students were because their faces register very little. It turned out that they were full of questions and eager for discussion. During breaks they sang vigorously and well. Those with better vision carefully looked after those with poorer.

Of course, I couldn’t use the blackboard or show them any pictures—all I could do was talk. The lectures were recorded and distributed to the students on CDs, but I decided that if I’m ever asked to do anything like this again, I’ll have to try to change my lecturing habits. Another time I would tell more stories and try to think of ways to arrange the material so it’s easier to remember without visual prompts. The ideal would be to have something the students could hold in their hands, but I’m not sure how that would work. Do any of you have ideas or suggestions?

Getting to know the neighbors
I love teaching at theological schools, but there’s a drawback: I could go for weeks without talking to people outside our little Christian circle. So I’ve been praying about ways to meet some of the people in my neighborhood. I haven’t been too systematic about it, but I believe God has given me a modest start.

For example, at Easter I decorated eggs and made a basket with candy and a greeting card for the elderly man next door. I’m naturally pretty shy, so I had to work up a little nerve to knock on the door. My idea was to just say a quick hello, drop off my gift, and duck out, but I was surprised all over again by Ukrainian hospitality. Anatoly took me firmly by the elbow and escorted me into the living room where his brother and sister and their spouses were enjoying their holiday dinner. They not only filled up a plate for me but also a shot glass of cranberry-flavored vodka! They clinked glasses all around and solemnly repeated, “Christ is risen!”

I’d never heard the ancient Christian greeting used as a toast before, but this wasn’t the moment for a temperance lecture! Instead I concentrated on learning their names and enjoying their company. I don’t run into Anatoly very often, but at least now the ice is broken and we can chat when we meet.

Rescue operation
Then I glanced out my back window a couple of days ago and observed two stuffed animals—a dog and a cow—that had crashed on the flat corrugated roof of the downstairs neighbors’ shed. They had obviously suffered a terrible descent from some apartment up above. So I went and fetched a handy article of furniture we call a taburetka. It can either be sat on like a stool or used as a low table. That was to get me up to a height where I could more or less easily sling my leg over the balcony sill. First I opened the window and pried up the thumb tacks that hold down the netting used in place of a screen. Then I looked down on the corrugated roof and just in time it occurred to me to wonder how I expected to climb back into my apartment once I was out there! So I fetched another taburetka and eased it out the window onto the roof to serve as a step on the other side. Then I slowly got my leg over the windowsill and managed to climb out onto the roof to retrieve the animals. They were dirty and soaked with rain, but dried out overnight.

Then I went in search of their owners, inquiring at all the apartments directly above me. (Do you see how the Lord got me to talk to strangers?) About halfway up I reached an elderly woman who informed me that the only children young enough to enjoy throwing toys off the balcony were on the ninth floor. “Take the elevator!” she advised. Fortunately, it was working that day, so I went up to the ninth floor and knocked on the door that corresponded to my apartment. Bingo! The young mother was really surprised and pleased. She said, “We could see the toys down there, but we had no idea how we were going to get them back.” So I went downstairs feeling rather heroic—and with a better idea of who lives in the same building with me.

Prayer requests
I sincerely thank all of you who pray for me; some of you have written to tell me so. Please join with me in praying for more contacts with the people around me so that friendships can develop.

Four new students from Russia and Ukraine will be joining the Odessa/Prague Master’s program this fall. They will need visas to travel to the Czech Republic for orientation and you may remember from last year that it’s no easy process—please pray with us that their documents will be completed in a timely way. Each student will also need to come up with US $200. Pray that the necessary finances will be found.

Summer is the time for camps, day camps, and Vacation Bible School all across the former Soviet Union. Every group needs staff, adequate supplies, and protection from danger. Please pray for God’s blessing on all these valuable ministries.

With peace,
Mary Raber

This column will be a series of scenes from God’s mission among rural and urban congregations, wealthy and poor, young and old, recent church plants and historic congregations.

I hope to see Christ’s love made flesh in the diversity of his many members. I hope to see the features of God’s face in the sisters and brothers of the Mennonite family.

Follow this link for the rest of the article: Life in the body

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Mary Raber
Odessa, Ukraine

Thank you! One of the sweet surprises of service with Mission Network is the discovery of friends I’ve never met. I received an overwhelming number of cards for Christmas and my birthday, for which I thank you very much.

Not only that, but you’ve been very generous with me in other ways. Because of your gifts toward my support as of 1 March I am receiving a salary instead of a stipend and expenses. This is a blessing, indeed, and very encouraging. Your support confirms God’s leading in a special way and I’m grateful.

Lenten Weather

By the time you read this we will be well into the Easter season; as I write it is definitely still Lent. There were snow flurries last week, but I also notice that it’s still light outside at the end of the day when I stand on the frozen ruts at the end of the road to flag down bus No. 31. Since childhood I’ve thought of cold, light, late-winter evenings as “Lenten weather.” Spring has certainly been taking its time after a long and difficult winter, but by now the pond behind Odessa Seminary is free of ice and as I type I can hear the water birds making a racket.

Master’s Program—First Session

In February we held our first “study module” for the Master’s program that Odessa Seminary started last fall in cooperation with International Baptist Theological Seminary (IBTS) in Prague, Czech Republic. You may remember that the joint project is intended to extend the resources of both schools: Odessa provides the handy location and the students, while IBTS provides an accredited program that allows busy, part-time students to stay closer to home and do at least some of their written work in Russian.

Sasha Abramov—the course leader whom I assist—and I were a little nervous about it all. IBTS sent Dr. David Brown to present a course on preaching—would he be satisfied with our arrangements? On the other hand, our students are experienced pastors with their own high standards—would they be satisfied with Dr. Brown? More to the point, if the first module flopped… would everybody blame us?

In the end it went well. Ten students gathered, including a new student from Astrakhan (Russia) and one from Belarus who couldn’t get a visa last fall to attend orientation in Prague.

The hero of the session was our Armenian friend, Ashot, who had to come early and stay late because there’s only one flight a week between Yerevan and Odessa. Russian and English are second and third languages for Ashot; he may struggle a little for self-expression, but he manages to get his ideas across. On Sunday he braved the icy roads to reach a village about two hours from Odessa where he had heard Armenians lived. It turned out that some of them had been praying that God would send them an Armenian-speaking preacher!

After this session we feel that communication between Odessa and Prague has improved; everybody understands the program better; the students are more confident listening to lectures in English; and in general a friendly, supportive group identity is forming. Whew!

My Life as an Advisor

Since last fall I’ve been serving as advisor to four students who are writing what are known as “diploma papers” in preparation for graduation. Although I’ve had to work with some of them long-distance, we’ve gotten rather well acquainted. Sometimes I feel a little bit like a midwife helping them to “give birth” to their research!

Three of them have written on topics that combine education and social work. One of the most interesting things I’ve observed over the last ten years or so is the way that evangelical Christians have moved into different kinds of social service ministries—activity that would have been illegal in Soviet times. Now, at last, students like these are beginning to combine scholarly research with their ministry experience and are coming up with some pretty useful recommendations for church-based social service work.

The Blessing of Convenience

For many years the three members of my friend Katya’s family have lived in one room with a kitchen and bath. Through much careful planning and saving, they’ve gradually been redecorating their tight quarters and decided it was time to get rid of their large shkaf, which we might call a chiffarobe or wardrobe—the kind you could climb into and find yourself in Narnia. I was ecstatic when Katya offered it to me because I needed a shkaf badly; for months my clothes had been hanging in my apartment corridor for all the world to see.

But transporting a large piece of furniture isn’t so easy. I needed help. The shkaf would have to be knocked down and moved to my apartment in pieces. My friend Zhenya was willing to lend his van and do the driving, but the dismantling and reassembling of an old Soviet-style cabinet is no trifling matter. The only person for a job like that is shy Vladimir Iakovich Tsymbal, one of a vanishing breed of resourceful handymen. “I’m better with metal,” he warned me. “Once we took one of those things apart and we never did get it back together. Finally we just built a different one out of the pieces, but I’ll give it a try.”

He did a beautiful job. One day he took apart the cabinet and several weeks later he came to fit all the pieces back together. Max, one of the seminary students, held things in place while Vladimir Iakovich hammered.

It’s made all the difference to my living arrangements: suddenly I have storage space! My whole second room is usable now—so much more spacious than Katya’s family’s apartment!

Christ is Risen!

Next week we’ll hear that glad greeting everywhere. Let it be a real joy to you: Christ is alive!

With peace,
Mary Raber

Resurrection is not a quick fix for our problems; tombs and crucifixions don’t end on Easter morning. The graveside account in John’s Gospel instead is a glimpse into the mysterious outpouring of divine love: God waits for those without hope, Christ lingers among those plagued with death and fear.

Our Lover always returns, and he whispers the words of life near a tomb under the cover of darkness. The divine love affair begins again where death and anguish seem to reign. When we are drawn to such places, our Lover finds us, although he appears as a stranger. We are like Mary, unable to recognize the signs of resurrection. Yet the allure of God’s grace sends us on our mission of waiting and listening and hoping—sometimes forever. For God’s love is flesh—a wounded body near a tomb, still bearing the marks of death, holes in his hands and side.

Follow the link to The Mennonite for the entire article: Whispers of Resurrection

Mary Raber
Odessa, Ukraine
January 2010

Dear Friends and Family:

This started out six weeks ago as an Advent letter, but I’m sure you know how these things go… Let this serve as a belated greeting for Christmas and the New Year. I sincerely wish you God’s blessing as we go on in 2010.

Teaching
At the moment I’m outside of Ukraine. In a few weeks, while I am attending the annual research colloquium at International Baptist Theological Seminary in Prague, I will be applying for a new year-long Ukrainian visa. In the meantime my thoughts are full of teaching plans. Beginning in February I will be teaching Baptist/Anabaptist history in Odessa, a course that I will repeat in Donetsk in April with a group of blind students. I’m looking forward to that as a new experience; my selection of reading material is already being recorded for their use. During the fall semester I taught five intensive courses—two in Odessa and three in Donetsk. Fifteen years ago intensive courses were the norm because most of the qualified teachers came from far away, usually the U.S. or Germany, and couldn’t stay very long. Nowadays there are more national instructors, but intensive courses are still necessary to accommodate the many part-time students. I respect the part-timers’ determination. Most of them attend classes for two weeks at a time, eight hours a day, three times a year, sometimes for as long as five years. Of course, it’s hard to keep up the commitment. In October I worked with eight preachers on their teaching skills; two years ago their group numbered twenty! At the end of a course, the students pack up all their homework assignments, intending to bring them back to the next session several months later. This fall I created a disaster for myself; now my most exasperating problem is keeping track of all the work I’ve assigned with different due dates to dozens of students spread out across the entire country!

My first appearance as a real, live academic!
Donetsk Christian University has been holding regular gatherings for instructors to present their own research. In November I was their guest lecturer. You may remember that I am writing a doctoral dissertation on charitable practices and social service ministry among Russian evangelicals in the early twentieth century. For the lecture I chose a side issue, but one that I thought would interest my listeners: “Baptists and Money.” The Russian church periodicals of that period have a lot to say on the topic! It was the first time I have presented my own work anywhere besides to my fellow doctoral students, and it turned out to be more fun than I expected. Members of the audience—students and faculty of DCU—asked a surprising number of questions, some of which I could answer!

Limitations—and grace
It’s easy to be thankful for some things: thousands of miles traveled during the past year without mishap; old and new friends all over the world; the pleasure and challenge of teaching; the curious details of daily life; and insights gained from study. Other gifts are less obvious. Over the past year I’ve become more aware than ever of situations I can’t mend. I’m close to several people involved in serious unresolved conflicts. Many people I know in Ukraine are frighteningly deep in debt. Others are ill. I don’t see any reason to expect that the Ukrainian political situation will improve, in spite of the noisy presidential campaign going on in preparation for elections on 17 January. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed. On U.S. Thanksgiving Day I stopped in to visit my friend Larisa where she works at a tiny Christian publishing house. Since she’s a good person to pray with, I told her about how helpless I was feeling and wept a little bit. While we were talking, another friend, Vova, came in. When he saw that I was crying, he offered to recite a poem he had written about tears. Of course, I told him to go ahead. Mysteriously, Vova’s poem comforted me. Or rather, not exactly the poem itself, but the way Vova and Larisa showed me their love and acceptance. What is it about this place? In so many ways, life in Ukraine is a shambles. On the other hand, for me at least, this is the land where, when I expect it least and need it most, a man walks in and unaffectedly begins to recite poetry. As for feeling overwhelmed, I don’t know anything else to do but continue to lift up all kinds of situations to God: “I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” (Psalm 27:13-14). The shadows close in when I begin to think I have to solve things on my own and that there’s something wrong with me if I can’t.

Epiphany
The good news is that this is the season of the church year—Advent, Christmas, Epiphany—that reminds us we are right to hope in God. Our expectation is well placed. Even if we’re reduced to tears sometimes, that doesn’t mean God has let us down. On the contrary—Christ is risen, indeed! We celebrate Jesus’ life in our fallen world: “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world” (John 1:9). Walk in the light!

Thank you so much for your loving support.

With peace,
Mary Raber

Worship that evening choreographed our bodies into a dance with the Holy Spirit. We were like Grace’s wiggly, noisy little body. We sat and stood, sang and prayed, listened and talked, and all that movement was how the Spirit drew us into companionship. Mary Jo led us in hymns that blended our voices. Laura’s prayer opened our minds to God as we let our thoughts flow through one another. And Dave’s sermon broke into my tired heart and invited me to share in his weaknesses with tears; my vision turned misty when his voice cracked and trembled. We were companions.

Follow the link to The Mennonite for the full article: Companions.

Odessa Theological Seminary
Odessa 65066 Ukraine
5 October 2009

Autumn Days

Everywhere in the countries of the former Soviet Union school
starts on 1 September. Odessa is no exception. I had forgotten that my
apartment is within walking distance of two or three elementary
schools and a month ago as I went to the bus stop I was overwhelmed by
wave upon wave of kids in their school uniforms, many of the smaller
girls wearing the bunchy white nylon hair bows that signify “dressed
up.” They were trailed by parents and grandparents carrying huge
bouquets. All were bound for first-morning festivities.

Four weeks later the weather is mostly warm, but by now it is
definitely fall. Watermelons are still heaped up for sale on the
street corners, but the sidewalks are littered with buckeyes. Red and
yellow peppers, grapes of all kinds, apples, tomatoes, and sweet
purple plums dominate the markets. The flower sellers have switched
from daisies to chrysanthemums.

I’ve been reading about foreign entrepreneurs investing in
Ukrainian farmland, which is some of the most fertile on the planet.
Apparently people have realized that it makes good sense to cultivate
a Ukrainian vegetable patch as insurance against forecasts of world
food shortages. Naturally, local people have mixed feelings about land
ownership going abroad, but you can’t deny the abundance and quality
of what this soil can produce.

Master’s Program

Many thanks for your prayers for the Master’s program. August
was a suspenseful month as our students traveled back and forth to
Kiev to apply for visas that would enable them to attend their
orientation at International Baptist Theological Seminary in Prague in
September. Among other things, we learned that the Czechs are very
strict with visa applicants! In the end eight of our ten applicants
joined the class—two of them a week late!—but we are grateful to God
for that many. We were also worried about having enough money, but God
wonderfully provided that as well.

Alexander Abramov (Sasha), who is directing the Odessa side of
the program, accompanied the students and spent a lot of time
discussing details with the administrators and professors on the
Prague side. He says it wasn’t easy, but in the end it was a good
experience for everyone. All the Odessa-based students left with at
least one detailed outline of the research work they plan to
accomplish this winter. Now we’re looking forward to our second
session here in Odessa in March when the Prague professors come to us.

Teaching

In September I taught the first half of a church history survey
course at Donetsk Christian University; the second half will pick up
in November. Here in Odessa I taught an intensive course on Baptist
history for some part-time students. In October I plan to return to
Donetsk for a week of Christian education and then teach a week-long
seminar on social service ministries back here in Odessa. That means
I’m not only jumping from subject to subject, but also spending a lot
of time on the train, which I’m not exactly crazy about, but it’s
better than taking the bus. One wonderful discovery, however, is that
most of the eastbound trains stop at a suburban station very close to
my apartment. How I love the convenience!

Getting to know the students is by far the best part of
teaching. There are four students from Kirghizstan in my history class
in Donetsk. We had an interesting time together watching a documentary
film I was given in Wichita this summer about the Mennonites’ Great
Trek to Central Asia in the nineteenth century.

Settling In

My two-room apartment is slowly getting organized. I still need
something for guests to sit on before I can invite anyone over, but at
least I’m not sleeping on the floor anymore! It’s quiet, reasonably
secure, and the neighbors are friendly, so that’s all to the good.

Almost every day I ride a bus with a rather imaginative schedule
that circles through my neighborhood and eventually makes a stop not
far from the seminary. The bus is the project of a popular local
deputy who got it organized last year. I enjoy it because almost all
of the riders know one another and noisily exchange local news and
compare purchases along the way.

For Prayer

I want God to be at the center of everything I do. Thank you for your
prayers for my teaching. It takes a lot of energy and concentration.
Most of all, I want my classes to contribute to the students’
spiritual growth. Please continue to pray for the Master’s program.
We’re grateful to God for a good start; now the students need to keep
going independently until March. Pray for diligence and for God’s help
in organizing some extra meetings in the meantime. I’ve had some
success in continuing my own writing assignments, but I need God’s
help in staying disciplined.

Enjoy the changing seasons, wherever you are and whatever you’re
doing. Please accept my sincere thanks for your help and loving
support.

With peace,
Mary Raber

There have been several changes while I was gone.  Dave, who was part of the SALT program, finished up his term and headed back to the states.  Arriving back, the MCC Guest house in Dhaka, or “Bat Cave” seemed very empty since Sarah who working with the Peace program had also finished up her term.  And while we can’t replace her, we’re looking for someone to fill her Position

One small change that happened while I was gone: Rishi, our office driver here Bogra, turn a prototype tank outside the office into a nice little fish pond by adding some rocks, water plants and of course fish.  There are even a few small eels.  There wasn’t an aeration system and the fish started looking like they needed oxygen, so I hooked up a little aquarium pump we had to do some wetland research and Rishi was happy. There are probably other ways to increase oxygen levels without electricity. Maybe a small waterfall made from a hand pump and a big bucket or an old tractor inner-tube with a tap and a pressure valve, but this was what I had on hand.

A change that I was hoping for but didn’t happen is with the new house/workshop.  I was hoping that it would be finished, but it’s pretty much at the same place where it was when I left.  Almost done but… And the biggest issue right now is electricity.

I used to take electrical power completely for granted.  Sure I was a part of the NC green power program to buy green electricity, but it wasn’t something I thought about everyday.  Electricity is probably overused on the whole, but as a convenient way of moving energy it’s wonderful.  That said, I’m a little ambivalent about electricity because even though it’s so useful, unfortunately the first thing that often comes with electricity is the Television.  Actually it often comes before because it’s often run from batteries.  So it’s a little disheartening that we’re so dependent on electricity, but without fans, things can be pretty miserable.  Everywhere I’ve been in Bangladesh has either inconsistent power or none at all.  If you do have it you should be grateful because you’re part of the 38% of the population which has access to electricity in the first place.  If you do have power it’s probably going to go out every day, because the power grid is 30% oversubscribed so rolling blackouts or “load shedding” happen when production is insufficient.   The general problem is that Bangladesh is too flat for hydro, doesn’t have enough wind for turbines and solar is really expensive.  They’re doing a lot with Bio-gas, generating methane from cow dung, but that’s still pretty small.  Most of their power is currently produced from natural gas, but aside the problem of burning fossil fuels, it’s very likely they’re going run out in a few more years, one professor at the University of Dhaka said it could be as early as 2012.

Which brings us back to this construction project.  We either could get power from the grid or produce it on our own.  On the one hand there’s electricity in the village… but the current transformer is overloaded and a new power line is needed.  On the other hand we have this inexpensive generator that I bought a couple months ago for running tools.  It’s a Bangladeshi generator belted to a Chinese made Diesel engine, fairly large actually… but it’s producing dirty power and making things burn out.  Rock meet hard place.

All this makes the Dilbert cartoon from a few days ago quite relevant and very amusing.  I sometimes feel like there’s this shell game that gets played with resources.  We, self included, play games moving around labor, energy, and materials and hope we’ll end up with working systems without having to pay the price.  Bidudh nei, eta boro shomosha.  No electricity, it’s a big problem.

–
Nathan Charles
http://www.char1es.net