From Russia, with Love

Today at our church we had a special guest speaker, Dr Sasha. Dr. Sasha and his wife came from Russia to tell us how their ministry was doing, and to outline to the church as supporters, how the funds were being used.

Our church supports various missionaries, and from time to time we will get visits from them to tell us how things are going “in the field”. Today, we were blessed with Dr. Sasha and his wife, Alia.

From the beginning you could tell they were a very special pair. He actually walks with a bounce in his step, an exuberance in his movements and gestures, a smile at the ready and a twinkle in his eye. With all that, I still couldn’t keep my eyes from moving to his wife. A glowing face, a precious smile, and a countenance, that just seems to say she has seen God.

They brought with them a slide show and movies of the churches they had established in the St Petersburg area where they live. They showed us the various faces of the lovely children in the orphanages they support. They explained the very humble beginnings, and how their work is being multiplied there.

They sung a hymn together, one familiar to us, but in their native Russian, and we were asked to join along in English.

We learned that Dr. Sasha was at one time a Naval medical doctor. He gave it all up to establish a church. It started with a few meeting in a home. We were shown a typical Russian apartment; two rooms, a bathroom and one other room which served as kitchen, dining, living and bedroom. An average salary is $100 a month. We saw photos of a typical hospital, it wasn’t a very encouraging sight. He explained about the 80% drug use among the young people. The photos easily displayed the lack of luxuries we so easily take for granted.

Through an interpreter, Dr Sasha explained the church’s early days, when he felt called to start a building. He said it would need $52,000 to begin to build one. He said he would likely need 52 years to earn enough to start one, and that while HE was patient and could wait, the church couldn’t. He set out to the U.S., and went back home with every penny he needed to begin construction. He showed the various phases of the construction. And towards the end of the construction, he showed a man on a ladder starting to hammer a sign at the front door, with a cross above it. He got excited telling us, this was no ordinary sign. He began, “See that cross? It took me 3 and half months to get permission to post that cross.” One could tell in his expression that they hadn’t been an easy three and a half months. So, when it came time to post the sign. He decided to just nail it up without the permission. The sign was merely saying they were a Baptist Church. With a shaky voice, and part fear in his eyes, but a voice with laughter, he said, “I lost three nights sleep after that, and this very day, I call my deacon each night to ask, ‘Is the sign still there?’ ”

At the end of the service, I just wanted to meet them both, and I wanted to just express gratitude to their work. They represent our church, our Savior under conditions that are so difficult. One can see that they don’t live for the earth’s fading treasures, they store theirs in a place that is eternal, their heavenly home.

Now as Baptists, we are great hand-shakers. A very ordinary Sunday will find us shaking hands with everyone. Sometimes us ladies will hug, and that is what I felt I needed to do with Dr. Sasha’s wife. That smile, that glow, that face telling all of the hardships but loving and trusting the Lord anyway, required more than a handshake, I thought. But I worried, what if they don’t do that there?

Perhaps was a foolish thing to do, cultural differences and you just never know…but all that was in me said a handshake wouldn’t do. I shook Dr. Sasha’s hand and thanked him for coming. And then I turned to Alia, his wife, and our eyes met and I hugged her warmly. I don’t speak Russian. Words weren’t needed. She just hugged back in appreciation. I felt she understood me, and bless her heart, she shook Laura’s hands and told me in gestures to wait. She turned, then she came back to us and gave us gifts. Imagine, her giving US gifts. I had nothing to give her. She pressed into our hands, a button, a pen, and a card. “Thank you, ” I prayed silently, “for giving me the courage to hug her.” It was all I had to give that day.