ie:missional teaching. glocalizing. living. serving. repenting. incarnating. loving. repeating.

After lunch and goodbyes to Kari and the kids, we went back for our final meeting before leaving T–a. This meeting was actually with the owner of the apartment where we crashed. A lady who, in a show of Christian hospitality moved out to give us full run of the place; a lady who had been influential in more than 75% of her church coming to faith in Christ; a lady who is passionate over the spiritual condition of her people; a lady who has, alone, translated almost all the New Tribes chronological stories into T—n; a lady who was personally, directly responsible for Jim and Kari being in T–a when they were praying about a people farther west; a lady, in short, who speaks softly and calmly, but commands attention when she does so.

We listened to and filmed our interview/discussion as she considered how our projects might benefit the T—n people. She believes that the oral storying that has been proposed can be of tremendous value as the accounts of God’s word are paired with events from T—n history. This would help overcome the perception that Christianity is a Russian religion and that one must abandon all of T—n culture in order to be a Christian. This basic misunderstanding has hindered the spread of the gospel among this people.

After concluding in prayer, it was off to the airport to catch our return flight, which was on Air Novosibirsk rather than Air T–a. I guess they are code-sharing partners. A twin-engine turbo-prop, three of our team sat right between the propellers and are still recovering from temporary deafness. In the “Thanking God for small blessings” department, the cargo was actually in the cargo hold while both take-off and landing were great in spite of some pretty bald tires. Upon arrival, we were again collected by our host M family, then joined with a second family (another M is transit), and all the kids for dinner in a 2 bedroom, 1.5 bath apartment which was, at that moment, holding 16 people with the international travel luggage of 11 of us. A wee bit crowded it was, but it was also good to meet new friends and re-connect with old ones. Thankfully, sleep was rapidly approaching.

Friday and Saturday were uneventful other than the excruciating process of attempting to get registered with the local government. If you’ve never had that pleasure, choose the root canal option instead. Sunday was a better day.

Choosing an option for church on Sunday morning was easy as we traveled to Akadem Gorodok, the home of several universities and one seminary. During the Cold War years, this was a center of training for the scientists of the USSR and is still considered a vital place of education. We worshiped with a church meeting on the seminary campus. They are multi-cultural with South Koreans, Russians and at least one German and one American in the services. Our entire team spoke during the Sunday School hour and was very well received. At least I think we were.

It is soon to be the home of a church start from English language classes. While there, we met with an American M who has moved there to teach English and help with the church start. He is a 55 year old single guy who speaks little Russian so far, but has followed God to that end of the earth with the prayer of seeing some of the intelligentsia come to faith in Christ. Please pray for Alvin in this effort. Learning English (as the international language) is a hugely important thing in countries around the world and as such has proven an effective tool of ministry opportunity.

This is the end of the narrative. In the next day or two, I will post a couple of emails that we received from Jim of things that happened after we left. God is working and the Kingdom is on the move.

As our attention turned toward church planting, Jim and Kari were able to recall a recent conversation with four T—n believers regarding a church they hope to plant later this year. Their conversation had turned toward a type of building, when Kari asked this question, “If money were no object, what kind of building would you want to house a church?” At this point, some background information will be helpful.

Russians by and large, and T—ns in particular, place great importance on how a “church building” looks and what the church is named. The great orthodox cathedrals bear silent testimony to this. The Russian Orthodox Church is currently building, in K—l, a small but beautiful building that will be capped with three domes each completely covered in gold. They believe that type of structure speaks to the “majesty and glory” of God and it means something to the Russian mind even if those meeting inside are the victims of cold, heartless religiosity. Because of this, “house churches” are generally viewed as sects and tend to be avoided. The T—ns believe that a structure is necessary, but what kind?

When the T—n believers answered Kari’s question, they were in agreement that a building reflecting T—n culture should be a yurt. And, that the main yurt could be surrounded by smaller yurts for childcare, bible classes, etc. (It took about five seconds for us to nickname the entire layout at the “Mother Yurt and the Squirt Yurts.”) This structural model would cost much less from start to finish than the blueprints alone for a Russian Orthodox style church, would be easily reproducible in other cities and towns, and, as far as anyone knew, would be the first culturally relevant church building ever in the republic. We were immediately sold on the concept and began to plan accordingly.

The meeting ended with prayer and a real sense that God had orchestrated virtually every second of our time together. Our team was repeatedly motivated by the obvious working of God. It really isn’t every day that one gets to see God working in such a clear, concise way. It was good to be a part of such life, since, due to a couple of racing taxi drivers, I felt certain that life was shortly coming to an end.

I don’t think that they had been drinking, but unbeknownst to us, our respective taxis were in a race to our drop off point. About five minutes into a swerving, bouncing, speeding flight toward K—l, I began singing Lord, I’m Coming Home, thinking that it might be a swiftly approaching reality. After both of our rides put us out and we determined that the ground was actually still, we went into the apartment and were quickly asleep.

The meeting generated so much excitement that I was only able to sleep 3 1/2 hours. After a fruitless attempt to return to unconsciousness, I rose to capture the thoughts that were careening around my head. This morning, Thursday [which was August 16], we are scheduled to meet with the town administrator of S—–k, where Jim and Kari live. The purpose is to explore how a church might partner to improve their community. [Unfortunately, he was out of town for the national holiday and was unable to meet.]

We did get to see two possible locations for the yurt church. One is near the Cultural Center and school. It is essentially an open field within sight of the same river that flows through K—l. The other is immediately adjacent to the city park.

One of the community service projects that Jim had already mentioned to us was revitalizing the city park, so my interest was piqued as to what the might entail. Boy. Oh. Boy. Built during Soviet days, the playground has all the aesthetic beauty of the lunar surface. The chain that once surrounded the entire area, roughly the size of a football field, is gone down to the last link as are most of the posts. There are approximately four actual rides for kids to use, each as plain and ugly as the one next to it. The teeter-totters could not be destroyed by a direct nuclear strike, but neither would it be worn out from use. The second possible site for the church was to the immediate right of the park, 25 yards away from the main town grocery store and a very busy bus stop.

My opinion was that both potential sites had advantages, neither had disadvantages so I asked Jim the potential cost. “About $5k for a half-acre, which is standard size,” he replied. “We might get it for a little cheaper if we commit to rebuild the park and maintain it.” I responded, “Why not offer to purchase this part to the right and ask them to give you the park based on your commitment to rebuild and maintain it? It never hurts to ask.” That is the end to which I will pray.

You’ll have to stay tuned to find out what happened…

Around 7:00, we went to the house of our new friends and host M’s, Jim and Kari. Two of the most gracious and vivacious people I have ever been around, they are passionate and sold out to reaching this people. Affiliated with an agency in the northwest US which exists to reach the northern tribal peoples of Siberia, Alaska and Canada, Jim and Kari are raising their three children in the harsh T—n climate which swings from -50 to 110 F annually. They are immediately likable, immensely lovable and preeminently committed to seeing an authentic, biblically sound T—n church planting movement.

The purpose of our evening meeting besides the joy of fellowship was strategy. What could be done and how could we partner together to get it done? We talked first about “storying project” and whether our original ideas were on target. This one is still in the planning phase, but we are excited about bringing the gospel into their culture using historically appropriate information involving T—n translators and storytellers. As I previously stated, though the culture is literate, the preferred learning style is oral transmission, thus the effort to “oralize” the gospel through stories.

Then, we talked about the possibility of doing English classes. Existing partnerships in a former eastern bloc country could easily be accessed to use a type of English class that presents the gospel and has been very effective at leading to church starts. It was decided that this would likely work both in K—l and in the “suburbs.”

Next, we discussed how that we might be a blessing to the community. One thing held in common by some of the former Soviet republics is failing infrastructure. When the Union collapsed and autonomy was declared, away went Russian money (at least in part). In many places factories, pipelines and the like are decaying from lack of use. One abandoned factory on the outskirts of K—l still bore a sign that read, “Glory to the Worker.” We believe that blessing these towns through repairing infrastructure, parks, schools, etc, will open doors for gospel witness.

Jim immediately referred to a broken down city park just down the street from their home. His thoughts were that if we could partner together to refurbish the park making it usable again, that great favor would be gained with the city administration. We agreed and agreed to help.

About 3/4 of the way through this four hour strategy session, I brought up Glocalization and one of the ideas espoused by Bob Roberts. He wrote of the wisdom of creating a jobs base by investing money to create businesses that would improve the economy. This effort becomes another means of establishing good will and opening doors of witness. “Why are you doing this?” “We are servants of Jesus Christ and believe that He wants to use us to bless and encourage you.” Since hearing that T–a has no exports at all and was mired in economic depression, my mind had been spinning. There are no FedEx, DHL or UPS deliveries being made. “Brown” isn’t doing much in T–a because T—ns aren’t doing anything that requires it. This was the next subject of discussion.

Jim (also affectionately known as “Samwise” due to his hobbit feet) is the very picture of entrepreneurial. With a heart bursting for church planting and discipleship, he has the magnificent ability to evaluate the entire cultural picture and envision solutions to multiple issues on various fronts. So, when I asked about a type of business opportunity that might result in economic expansion, I wasn’t really surprised to find out that he already had a business plan.

The T—ns have a legacy of being good leather-workers, though they don’t have a tanning or fur processing industry. Jim and a couple of shoe-cobblers have developed and produced a few sample leather satchels. The quality and design is about as good as anything I’ve ever seen in a leather shop or done by leather-workers. The goal is to create a distribution channel that will place these on the US market, since that’s where the closest contacts currently reside. If successful, and the business plan looks strong, then profits would be used to fund church planting and local ministry inside T–a.

As it had been apparent the previous afternoon, all our ideas and desires were fitting together like a hand in a glove. God hadn’t merely opened a door; He’d kicked it completely off its hinges. Even us slow Baptists could figure it out and it was not stopping yet.

After landing in K—l, we were collected by two taxis, endured a wild 3 minute ride and were unceremoniously dumped at the door of an apartment building that looked like most of the ones you see in any of the old USSR. As it turned out, it belonged to a T—-n believer who literally moved in with her son and gave us her apartment for our entire stay. She was a wonderful lady who prepared us a meal of some stuff I did recognize (eggs and ham) and some stuff I didn’t. I had purposed to eat what was set before me and trust God with my gullet, but there were no challenges. (Breakfast consisted of Honey Nut Cheerios purchased at the local market. Oh yeah!)

As with the hotel, we lost our original M contact in country, though we would not learn why until later. It’s enough to say for now that it was another God thing. Just following our settling at the apartment, our new in country contact arrived and intros were made all around. (Jim, from the pacific northwest, has been in the country for about 7 years.) After the first few minutes of a two hour discussion, it became obvious that God was in the middle of everything that was happening. Our complementary visions were readily seen and his missiological knowledge of the culture far surpassed all the research we had done, and in fact corrected some of it. He had clarity of what we hoped to do and was instantly aware of how our thoughts could fit into or expand upon structures with which he was familiar and in which he had influence.

It is his informed opinion that the Buddhism in T–a is mainly cultural and, though there are a number of temples around, is really isn’t that strong a presence (much like being “Baptist” in the south once was). The other primary religious system, shamanism, is the evil presence that holds the people in darkness. The shamans are almost all powerful and are very influential. Prayer to the living God is seen as upsetting to the spirits and this requires a shaman to set things right.

We also feel that we now have a more clear picture of the state of the gospel here. It appears that this people, as a group, is not actually unreached, but is extremely under evangelized. There are some small churches in the main city, but of the estimated 140 cities/towns/settlements in the rest of the country, around 50% do not have ready access to the gospel and many have not yet heard of Jesus.

Man, this is the place to be!!

On Wednesday, we went to the national holiday festival in a field outside of K—l. We had prayed and asked God to allow us to see some of the culture of the people, all the while knowing that we would only be in the country for 50 hours or so. At this festival there were representatives of each and every county in T–a (even the far north reindeer herders with three of those beautiful creatures), with cultural dress and food throughly represented. Also represented was Nestle, with a freezer full of their ice cream being sold by an enterprising young T—n. Among the activities were an archery competition, horse races (one of which was a 15km distance ridden by four year old kids), music and dance. Activities inside the large main square back in K—l included concerts and wrestling, though we did not see either of those.

It was at the field that we were first introduced to the yurt. The yurt is a round dwelling, a large one of which might measure 18-20 feet in diameter. The door to the yurt always faces toward the south and a vented top allows smoke from the fireplace in the center to escape. Various foods might be cooked there or a knee-high table might be set up around which about five or so adults might gather as food or chai is cooked outside.

As we entered our second or third yurt, we removed our shoes and admired the decorative handiwork of the inner construction. After a few minutes we were guided to the table where we were seated for an opportunity to visit with the hosts and drink some chai. Of course, there are as many types of chai as there are people who make it. T—n chai is very milky and not very sweet; the tea taste is pretty weak. (I much prefer Kenyan chai which is very, very sweet and is served steaming hot.)

Ronnie Cansler from New Bethany, two M’s and myself happened to be seated with our host M who was conversing with two older T—n men also seated at the table. With a spreading grin on his face, he turned and said, “Well, they’ve decided that we are honored guests.” I was pretty sure that I knew what that meant. The last time I was an “honored guest” in a former Soviet country it was with two of these same men and involved dinner with a fried sheep penis. Preparation for the worst began in earnest. When Jim next said, “Now is when you become all things to all men,” I just resigned myself to whatever came next, though I was pleased to see cups of liquid being passed around. (I’ll stop here, but suffice it to say that I can’t serve as a trustee on any SBC entity now.)

We left the field amazed at the power of God to give us more culture in 90 minutes than we could have gotten in a month of ordinary days and rejoicing over His goodness to put us in T–a on such a day when we had literally chosen a travel date at random attempting to coordinate between four groups of people in four parts of the world.

The afternoon saw us meeting with a young Russian/American who was in T–a doing Bible translation. A new translation into the heart language has been in the works for some years, with the entire Bible scheduled to be released in 2010. We saw this as another amazing instance of God’s timing. From him we learned a number of things that are important to strategy.

First, T—s tend to be a very passive people, with little entrepreneurial spirit. As an example, there isn’t a single exported product in the entire republic. This cultural passivity filters into the churches resulting in very little intentional evangelism. Second, the population is not mostly illiterate as we had been told. In fact, it is probable that 70% or more are literate, but it is not their preferred method of learning. Third, the art of storytelling is on the wane, though the tool of storytelling might still be useful in evangelism, preaching and discipleship. Fourth, public libraries (of which there are many) will gladly place of copy of the Bible when printed, but, as in America, it will languish on the shelf until someone is given a reason to read it.

We left this meeting with the names and contact information for other leaders, including one who had been previously involved in a storying project. It was about 4:30 had been a most profitable day.

But the best was yet to come…

I had jokingly referred to the possibility of flying Borat Air on the last leg. I wasn’t far wrong. The terminal, which was different from our arrival terminal, was a Soviet relic and was decaying at every turn. A brief excursion upstairs was met with echoes and creaking wooden floors that threatened to give way with every other step. Entire sections of the exterior facade had fallen loose. Dilapidated airplanes and helicopters were everywhere in the knee level grass beyond the cracked and faded asphalt tarmac.

Some of the planes looked WW2 era that had been repainted for civilian use. That probably was not the case, but that was the impression. One craft even had a glass nose below the cockpit, just like a plastic military model that I had assembled as a child. I quietly hoped that I would be able to sit in the turret and man the machine gun as we flew over the countryside.

The reality was worse.

The only plane that stirred the air in the two hours that we waited was the one that had arrived from our destination and would make a return trip with us. It honestly looked as if 60 or 70 people disembarked from a craft that had only 24 seats! We later learned that the specific airline was not above flying with passengers standing up inside the plane.

The plane itself was a Yakovlev “Yak” 40, a craft popular for regional transport across the former Soviet Union. We could not help but laugh when we saw the 60’s era craft and as we got closer the harder our laughter became. The paint was faded beyond hope and a 15 section of Bondo discolored one side of the fuselage. The stairs used to load many boxes of cargo before our curious eyes were the same stairs that we ascended into the butt-end of the aircraft to be greeted by the luggage hold–two sets of shelves to our right–and 24 green fabric covered seats, with worn carpet toned between brown and orange. The boxes that we watched being loaded into the “cargo hold” were now in the front part of the cabin just beyond the seats. The left front of the seating area was willed with equipment from a vodka swilling extreme sports team on their way to a holiday celebration. The imbibed freely of drink that they brought on board, though if their behavior indicated drunkenness then they were plenty lit with they arrived at the airport to begin their trip.

When we began to taxi, the physical feeling of the plane was hard to describe. At one point it felt as if the tires had flat spots on all sides and at another if felt as if the main shock absorber had been replaced with the mainspring of a flea-market wrist watch. In spite of it all, we had a perfectly executed takeoff and landing two hours later. K—l, the capital of T–a, was absolutely gorgeous from the air with a clean, blue hued river at its edge, yet proved to be the same architectural makeup as every other former Soviet nation once viewed from the ground.

During our Moscow layover, our M friends were informed that the only hotel in K—l was either booked or they could not find our reservations. The hotel did not take reservations by phone–only by fax. The fax, however, did not go to the hotel; it went to a fax machine down the street. There, apparently, there was no rhyme or reason as to if or when the faxed request was actually taken to the hotel. So here we were, half-way around the world and mere hours from our destination with no assurance of a place to stay. The “F-word” of missions came to mind at this point–“flexibility.” So, we journeyed on with the possibility that we would be sleeping at the airport, though a subsequent call to a new contact in country gave us hope that some type of room would be able to be attained.

Our goal in going to this particular region was to try and engage a particular UPG [the Tuvan (Tuvin) peoples] having a pretty strong certainty that little access to the gospel existed outside the capital city. Imagine our wonder to find out that God had worked an utterly astounding circumstance in our favor. The only full day that we were to spend in the region was a national holiday during which people would come from all the outlying areas to the capital city to celebrate. Many dignitaries and even President Vladimir Putin were scheduled to be in K—l at the same time we were. (We later found out that out of the 88 regions that it was possible for Putin to visit during his time hosting Prince Albert of Monaco, he had chosen T–a. We also were informed that he was responsible for us losing our hotel reservation as the government party chose there to billet. The third photo down in the linked article shows a line of well wishers greeting the president; it’s the same line we were in as evidenced by the building seen in the upper left background. Due to time constraints we were unable to allow the President to meet us see the President.)

My heart truly quickened with anticipation over the news.

The next few posts will be the journal that I kept while on a trip to the Tuvan Republic in Russia. Not mentioned by name in my previous writing, it turns out that there is no issue with public information, though I’ll probably use code most of the time to avoid being caught by the search engines. The posts will be very stream of consciousness as most of the writing was done early in the mornings when I couldn’t sleep due to time change issues.

On Sunday, August 12, Steve Pruett, Ronnie Cansler and myself left from New Bethany to Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport in Atlanta. At 4:45 pm we were scheduled to take the first of four legs arriving ultimately in Kyzyl in the T—- Republic.

Faithful members Mike and Donna Puckett were kind enough to drive us and our luggage, dropping us off around 1:45. After clearing security and securing our boarding passes, we were happy to note that our plane was at a T-gate saving us the 5,000 foot trek to the E-concourse where most ATL international flights originate and terminate. Our flight, Atlanta to Dusseldorf, Germany, was only 1/2 full, so I was able to sit across two seats and get some sleep–maybe 5 1/2 hours of the 9 hours in the air. We landed and promptly found a Starbucks where we spent the entirety of our layover.

The second leg was our first on Aeroflot, the Russian airline. Past days, while under Soviet control, featured an Aeroflot that was the butt of many an aviation joke. Visions of chickens and goats and seat ropes instead of belts danced in my head. I was pleasantly surprised to board a very clean Airbus 319. My excitement at getting an exit row seat was tempered when I saw that my specific seat, due to its close proximity to the emergency door, was a replacement seat with very little cushion and a permanent downward slant. It was as if I had to cinch down the seat belt to keep my body from sliding ever forward! Nonetheless, the flight was uneventful and the pilot made a good landing through the turbulent air over a Moscow runway. After we gathered our luggage and cleared customs, we met an M couple from our church and then enjoyed a leisurely lunch at TGIFriday’s inside the airport.

Moscow has two airports. One is larger and more modern, the other, about 15 minutes distant by bus, is true old style. Utilitarian in structure and bland in design, it harkens back to the stark coldness of the cold war era. Under maintenanced, underfunded and under sized, one hundred or so people milled around the only 75 seats, waiting by course until their flight numbers were called, at which point security is endured, tickets are confirmed and gates are sought.

Our 10:45 flight was delayed for an hour, but the Airbus 321 was practically just off the showroom floor–it still had the new car smell. Unfortunately, I was assigned a window seat in a three across section, which was not an exit row. The first thing that I noticed upon approaching my row was that someone was in the seat bearing the number of one of my traveling companions. Figuring that they would be able to work it out, I shoe-horned myself across two young ladies into 18F. My friend happily switched with the young lady as he took her aisle seat in the deal while she had the middle one beside me. She was significantly smaller than he, so I was happy that I would not have to be wrestling over the armrest for the entire trip.

What I didn’t immediately realize amid all the deal making was the attire of Miss Middle Seat. She had on a mini skirt so short that just looking at her would get a fellow past second base. I spent the entire 4 hour flight either looking straight ahead, trying unsuccessfully to sleep or reading, A Prayer for Owen Meany, which I had started about 2 years ago but had never finished. Upon seeing it, her friend in the aisle seat, a regular Siberian Chatty Cathy, immediately recalled how she had really wanted to read it, but had never found a copy in Novosibirsk. Knowing that I would never read it again, I offered to give it to her if I were to finish it during the flight which I managed to do by reading/skimming the last 250 pages. She was surprised when I handed it to her, not realizing that I had been serious.

And so it was that we landed in Siberia at 6:30 am on Tuesday, August 16. Over the previous four days, I had had a total of about 15 1/2 hours sleep and had traveled, with flights and layovers, about 28 hours. We were met by the wife of another M who fed us a Cracker Barrel worthy meal, loaded with protein, allowed us to shower and whisked us to the next airport for our destination flight which was to leave at 12:20 pm, not 2:30 as we originally thought.

To be continued…

Sunday afternoon two other men from our church and I will be leaving to explore opportunities to contact a people group in a remote area of Russia. We believe this to be an UPG, though we are getting conflicting information about whether there are any believers or whether there is a church that is actually reflective of their culture.

We will fly from Atlanta to Dusseldorff, then to Moscow. From Moscow to Novosibirsk, Siberia and from their we’ll take Borat Air to our destination. Our goal is two fold: (1) to attempt to make contact with any Christians in the point of entry and (2) attempt to meet with any government officials to find areas of need that our church might eventually fill.

If God brings us to your mind, I’d especially appreciate prayer during the Borat phase of our travels, as we currently know little about that segment. Our Russian legs are on Aeroflot which, I understand, is more reliable than it was during the Cold War. We can hope, right?

Anyway, I’m very excited about this trip and the possibilities that God is opening. One desire is to assist in a translation project that will get the gospel into the language of this UPG. The culture has an oral tradition of storytelling and is more than 50% illiterate as a result. The goal is to “story” the gospel, similar to what New Tribes Mission and others have done with tremendous results. (See especially EE-TAOW!.)

Chances are better than good that I’ll be out of both phone and internet range for much of the trip, though those Wi-Fi cafes seem to show up on the wildest of places…