Somewhere over the North Atlantic – Monday, March 9, 2009 – 8:41pm Minsk time
Whenever we’re in Belarus, we attend church on Sunday evening. That leaves the morning free to spend some time with our friends and tour a historical site or two. This has become our tradition and has taken us to a variety of incredible places like old castles, 10th century ruins, and churches that are hundreds of years old and significant to the Protestant history of Belarus. This year, we enjoyed something completely different. Our friends picked us up at the hotel at 10:00am. From there—and after I fell flat on my tail on the ice—we drove to the industrial part of Minsk and did a drive-by of some of the primary factories in Minsk. If Belarus is known for any manufacturing at all, it is known for the manufacture of heavy transportation machinery. We got to see a Belarus tractor factory. Belarusian tractors are used all over Europe and Russia, and not a few plow the fields of the U.S., too. Because of the economic crisis sales have all but stopped, so there tens of finished tractors parked on the factory grounds waiting for buyers. They are beautiful pieces of machinery, if one can call a tractor beautiful. Impressive at least.
After the factory detour, we drove about 30 minutes west of Minsk to a small town called Rakov. It rests in what used to be the Polish part of Belarus before WWII. It was also overtaken by the Germans at various times before the Soviets made it Belarus and a part of the USSR. In Rakov, Felix Yanuskevich owns and runs his own private museum. The man was quite the character. An artist by trade, Felix is a trained painter and ceramicist with a thousand stories to tell about Rakov and the history of the region. He is also a short barrel of a man who greeted us amidst the snow and ice wearing jeans, a button-up shirt, and a cardigan sweater. That’s it! No hat, no gloves, and no jacket, and he never changed to anything else. His lack of eyebrows or a single hair on his head only made his blue eyes stand out that much more, and his smile could probably light up the entire village. After vigorous hand pumps all around, he proceeded to spill forth with story after story for four hours, pausing only long enough for some quick translation in English for our benefit. We could just see his delight at having us there and having someone to listen to his stories. Felix was born in Rakov in 1954 to a Polish mother and Belarusian father. He has four brothers, one of whom is a sculptor who has pieces of art in galleries throughout Europe. Felix himself has paintings in a gallery in St. Petersburg, Russia, and has exhibited throughout Europe over the years. His real love is Rakov, though, and he decided several years ago to take it on himself to preserve the cultural history of the area via a private museum. We started outside and laughed as he showed us ancient clubs and sticks used by husbands of the time to “keep their wives in submission, but only on Thursdays.” We saw boxes for keeping and transporting gold, old farming implements, military hardware from Napoleon’s troops as they marched through Rakov on the way to Moscow, and myriad pottery with all sorts of uses among other things from the past several hundred years. Throughout his narration, our Belarusian friends were dying laughing. Felix’s eyes would twinkle, and we could tell he was thoroughly enjoying our company. Our interpreter laughingly apologized and said there was no way she could accurately translate everything he said. He used so many proverbs and innuendos that only a native would understand. After a couple hours’ tour, he led us into his house where he served us a terrific lunch of homemade village-style food. We had potatoes (of course), locally smoked meat, cheese, bread, cabbage salads, meat crepes, and the most delicious fresh cottage cheese with fruit jam that you could ever find. Other than the homemade birch tree juice (yes, tree juice), everything was delicious. Felix barely sat down for a bite before he was jumping up to serve us something else and encourage us to eat all we could because we’d “never eat food like this again.” He was probably right, in one way or another! J
We left after another hour or two in mid-afternoon with full bellies and giant smiles. It was a refreshing change of pace from the academic seminars, and we got to experience real Belarusian culture outside the capital city. Felix was a delight with a real love for life. We couldn’t tell what sort of faith he had. There was a lot of Catholic imagery in his art, but he talked a lot about the pagan history of the region. Then again, he insisted that we pray before sitting down to lunch. Who knows! I do know this, though. He loved life, and his passion about his life was contagious. It made me think about the whole of the experience in Belarus this time. We in the west would look at the culture of Belarusians and the daily life of the believers there, and wonder how we could be satisfied in that context. We probably couldn’t because we’ve grown comfortable in material wealth. If you know me at all, you know that I love my technology and American heritage, and I’m in no way saying that we should give that up to be happier or in right standing with the Lord. But, if there’s one thing that the Lord has been impressing on my spirit this week, it’s that this current crisis is being used by Him to strip away the “fluff” in the lives of believers. He wants to ground us back in Him and to truly value what He values. The believers in Belarus aren’t perfect to be sure. They fall and struggle as we do, as any human does. They have something we often lack, though. They are content and take shelter under the wing of the Lord. They are working hard to change their country and to realize true freedom and godly prosperity. While they work, though, they rest on the fellowship of believers and the Lord’s provision. We in America would do well to do a little more of the same. As evangelicals, maybe we’ve grown a little too comfortable with our programs, our church formulas, and our daily comforts. Could we give them up if God called us to or if He stripped them away? Would I give them up if He simply asked me to? These trips are always time to deepen my faith and serve others in a context where I don’t normally operate. This time, I come away having felt the great love of God and seeing in a new way the great love of life we can have when centered directly in His will, no matter our setting or circumstance. Thanks, Felix!
More to come.
Scott
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