I just returned from Ukraine, a last minute trip with a group of counselors from Birmingham. I’ll share more about how this crazy opportunity came to be and what it’s purpose was in my upcoming newsletter (if you aren’t subscribed, you can do so here.)
For now still in my jet-lagged stupor, I want to share a few snippets from my time—
Day One, Scene One
It was Pentecost Sunday – the day celebrated as the Spirit’s coming down to reverse Babel and start the church (the first fruits of Jesus’ labor). In Ukraine this day is a holiday, which is interesting considering Christianity is not pervasive. However, the Greek Orthodox Churchis a cultural influence and Ukranians arrived by the bus load to partake in the service.
Ladies’ heads were covered. Tables of bread lined the street so people could buy their bread offering to lay down at an altar inside. Before going in though people lined up to receive a sprinkled blessing from a priest. Inside another priest recited liturgy (I assume, it was in Russian). There was also a station where people could buy candles to burn in memory of loved ones. And on each column inside a picture of a saint where people prayed for particular blessings.
Observing all that was going on I couldn’t help think their eyes looked hollow. Driven by performance, sacrifice and law, there was no joy. In all their effort, it amounted only to empty, hopeless striving. My other thought was it appeared to be a similar scene to when Jesus overthrew the tables at the temple. “My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it a den of robbers.”
Day One, Scene Two
We walked over to the Evangelical Presbyterian Church for worship. We were handed headsets so we could listen to the English translation of the Ukranian pastor’s message. And oh, how encouraging to hear the gospel preached in Ukraine– the same message of grace I hear every Sunday!
Following the sermon the music team headed back up to the front and the familiar tune of “Holy, Holy, Holy” began. There we stood shoulder to shoulder, young and old, American and Ukrainian worshipping one God– the same God, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
Scene Three
Along with my friend Alice, a licensed professional counselor, we had the privilege of spending a few afternoons with teen girls. In a discussion (via an interpreter) about the masks we wear to hide what we don’t want others to see, I heard girls vulnerably share their fears, shame and insecurities. I was struck by their honesty and self-awareness. But also by the fact that their struggles were no different from those of American teenage girls and women. We compare ourselves to others. We worry about how we look. We long to know acceptance and love.
Scene Four
The streets of Odessa, Ukraine come alive each evening. Couples, families, groups of teens, tourists, all out for a stroll. One couldn’t help notice though how mismatched the Ukranian couples were in terms of attire. The women typically had on a dress and HEELS. Something I might wear to a luncheon, not to traverse across the cobblestone streets in 90 degree heat!! The men were more suited for that in their sneakers and athletic type wear.
The teen girls in our group had shared, “Trousers are not for women. Women are supposed to wear dresses.” And knowing now how rampant domestic abuse, alcoholism, pornography and eating disorders are in Ukraine, I saw the fine dress as a guise – a mask. In this way these ladies were no different than all of us – hiding the brokenness under pretty packages and smiles. While at the same time seeking identity (in this case through appearance) in search of security and worth.
Scene Five
Sitting around a small room for devotional and prayer time, a Ukranian couple shared their ongoing trauma with a child. I couldn’t understand their words but it didn’t take an interpreter to shed light on their pain. I could see it in their eyes and written across their faces. I knew that pain. The same pain of mothers and fathers the world over, bearing the weight of a struggling child.
These scenarios are not as disconnected as they may seem. We all have our different cultures, languages, preferences, styles and behaviors, but underneath we are all more same than we are different. Americans and Ukranians and all other people were made to worship. But in our brokenness and sin we turn to false worship. We hunger for validation and acceptance, to know we’re okay. We experience hurt and pain. And long for things to be different; for things to be made new.
It’s the universal human experience. In the U.S. and th Ukraine, since the Garden until Glory.
“For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved…” Romans 8:22-24
