Last Night in Russia…

Tonight is my last night in Russia—for a while anyway. So to celebrate this week’s ministry, Peter invited us to his place for the banya. “Banya” is the Russian word for “Hell”, or “sauna”. Or both. The point of it all is to get the inside of a small room so intolerably, steamily hot that your body sweats out all manner of impurities harboring themselves in your skin—you know: dirt, old lotion gone bad, soap scum, and the breath of life. Out it comes, all of it, provoked by the heat and by the beating of your body with branches from a eucalyptus tree.

Peter took the three of us (me, Scott, and Henry) into the banya all at once. Scott and Henry had never done the banya thing in Russia, so this was a certain right of passage. They had little idea what to expect. Scott has been to Finland before, so he was vaguely aware.

So Peter gets this thing as hot as blazes and then starts beating Henry with the branches, hitting himself on occasion to show that his behavior was truly normal. Henry was bright red, probably more from the embarrassment than from the heat. Scott was cowering back in the corner where Peter couldn’t reach, so every now and then he’d throw the branches back to Scott and expect him to lash himself.

My lungs were burning, my nose hairs were scorched, and my sweat was dripping down my face—but I managed to avoid most of the violence taking place against Henry. Then Peter motions to the two of us—me and Scott. “Get out!” Fine! We leave, and close the door on Henry’s whimpering. Inside we hear the smacksmacksmack of the branches. Aha! Peter kicked us out ‘cause he couldn’t get enough clubhead speed. We were taking up too much room. Now he was working on Henry full bore, driving every last ounce of Calvinism from his body. We stood outside hooting and hollering—“Man, Henry, what did you preach in Peter’s church yesterday? You must have really made him mad!”

It was all fun and games until the door opened, Henry came staggering out, and Peter pointed to Scott. “Your turn,” his finger said as it motioned for Scott to get in. Again, whackwhackwhack, so loud you could hear it outside the inner sanctum of the banya.

I was thinking Peter was just being polite to the newcomers, but no, as soon as Scott was done, he was motioning for me to receive my part of the torture. I climb in and Peter throws more water on the heater and the steam makes it hotter than I have ever experienced yet, and that’s saying a lot, and he begins the beating. Outside, Scott and Henry are yucking it up. I won’t give you the details of their accusations, but let’s just say they thought my time in hell was fitting punishment for dragging them into a music store earlier in downtown Ufa and making them wait while I tried out a seven string guitar. They thought I was playing Rock music in the store and that’s why Peter was whipping out the evil impurities. Amateurs. I was playing Rhythm and Blues.

I feel great now, ready to sleep in peace and hop on the plane to come home. For many reasons, this has been my best trip to Russia. I love these brothers, and pray we can continue to minister to their needs.

A Thursday In Ufa – Jim Achilles

Here’s what ministry in Ufa is like on a busy day – and many days are like this.

4:00 AM – I wake up in advance of my alarm (which was set to go off at 4:30). I stay in bed for a half hour praying and thinking about the class schedule for the coming day. Then I get up and begin compiling and reviewing notes. The syllabus we are using is fairly basic and many of the men have already been trained. So I try to provide additional material that reinforces the syllabus and helps with their training and preaching.

8:00 AM – Breakfast with the brothers. Sometimes we have dinner leftovers, but always served with bread and homegrown honey.

8:30 AM – Devotions with the brothers. Sometimes the translator is late and we have to sit and listen in Russian while one of the pastors preaches a little message to the men.

9:00 AM – Teaching starts.

It’s like these guys are union students: 45 on and 15 off. They are way serious about getting their breaks. One guy is assigned to be the break monitor. He has a little bell that he rings when the break starts and ends. He is never late, at least to start the break!

1:30 PM – Lunch. Big meal. Soup, meat, potatoes, tea, or that purply thick stuff that tastes like grape Pepto Bismol. Haven’t yet learned to like that one yet. So far, they haven’t served the beef fat.

3:00 PM – Class resumes and will go until dinner at 6:30.

5:00 PM – I leave class early today and Scott teaches in my absence. I go with Victor and our translator Emelia to Birsk. Birsk is to Ufa what Hollister is to San Francisco, only the roads aren’t quite as smooth.

6:45 PM – We arrive at Pastor Victor’s house and his wife serves us a form of pillmainee for dinner. I have no idea how to spell or properly pronounce pillmainee. But I like it better than liver.

7:20 PM – The service begins at the church. We have driven to the church in a mini van owned by Victor filled with 10 people.

7:30 PM – I sing a song for the church.

Maybe 25 people are present in this small house that has been converted into a meeting hall. They are a joyful bunch. I want to sing something they will be able to understand a bit so I choose a song that has a familiar word and some cool chords to play: “Alleluia! Alleluia! For the Lord God Almighty reigns!” Alleluia is the same in any language. Henry is with me and he sings a song too. Henry is country. He embodies it perfectly. He sings a simple song and they like it. I don’t think they appreciate the twang like an American would.

7:40 PM – Victor stands and says, “Now Jim (sometimes sounds like “Dzhzheemah” with the emphasis on the “EE”) will preach for us from Revelation 6. Jim, you have until 9:00. Tell us everything you know about this chapter, because we don’t quite understand it.”

OK, I came at Victor’s invitation to a Bible study thinking I would participate and contribute. I didn’t think I was preaching. I knew it was a slight possibility, but I really thought 10 of us would sit in a circle and I could ad input while Victor “facilitated.” That’s how we do Wednesday nights in the States. But Victor wants me to preach on something I have not immediately prepared for a total time of 80 minutes.

I am shocked more for the congregation – to sit there and listen to me labor through a translator for that long while sitting on those wooden benches?

I begin and 80 minutes just roars past like nothing. I stop at 60 and turn to Victor and say, are you sure you want me to go till 9:00? And he nods, and not from sleep deprivation. God seems to be at work by His Spirit as my mind is recalling so many details about Revelation 6 and its context in the rest of the book and how it encourages a suffering people. I go for the full 80 minutes. Emelia is hanging in there. She and I really click now. I know how many words in a phrase she can turn around quickly, and if I speak clearly, I can speak quickly and we have a rapid fire pace with only a few trip-ups in the middle of the message.

9:02 PM – I am spent. Victor stands up and asks, does anyone have any questions for Pastor Jim. I shoot Victor. No, I answer one question. It’s a simple one and the lady who asked seems satisfied with my answer.

9:15 PM – We go back to Victor’s house and have tea and cookies. I do a few little magic tricks for Victor’s kids.

10:20 PM – We get back in the van and drive back to Ufa. I can’t stay awake. I am too tired. I can’t sleep. The roads are too violent. I smack my head against the window at least once because I nodded off during one of the Dukes of Hazzard moves Victor employs in the process of flying over a hole in the pavement.

12:20 AM – I’m finally back in the room. Scott is sound asleep. He hasn’t been feeling great. Too much caffeine has affected him. I get to sleep almost immediately because we have class the next day. Fortunately we didn’t get as far yesterday as we wanted, so my notes are ready to go. I can sleep in to 6:30.

God has been good sustaining us and encouraging us. This has been my best trip here.

Wednesday – April 30th – Report from Jim…

Here it is, Wednesday evening in the booming metropolis of Ufa, Bashkiria. I have been working with Scott Menez and Henry Winkelman. Together we are team teaching a class of pastors from the region, and tonight, we are free to sit in our room. No Bible studies to attend or church services to preach at. We’re free to rest, which is great, because we have been busy since our arrival at midnight on Saturday night. And what better way to relax than a Diet Pepsi and Lay’s Potato Chips?

The class is going well, the men were very attentive today as we studied aspects of Christology, and God is keeping us safe and healthy. Neil says “Hi!” to “Corrrteese” because he remembers “the great work he did in Blagavaceous.”

Today, Scott was giving Emelia (our translator) a hard time about staying up late on the phone and coming to class tired. She was rolling her eyes and giving Scott grief. I smiled and told her I brought Scott with me so someone on my team would treat her like Duane did. She looked shocked and asked, “How do you know how Duane treated me when he was here?” I said, “‘Cause I know Duane.”

Ah Duane… You are remembered well!