Friday, 09 April 2010 02:23
Have you ever been sitting around the living room in the evening, reading a book or watching something on TV, and suddenly had all the lights in the house go dim? This happens to us nearly every day in Russia, and it’s usually followed by a spike when the lights get too bright. Sometimes the spike is so strong it blows out the bulbs. Once, when we were away for a few days, I left a cell phone charger plugged in, and came home to find it completely fried from one of these surges. They usually come in waves--first dim lights, then bright, then dim again—that last anywhere from a few minutes to several hours. When it happens, we rush around the house unplugging anything of value, because even surge protectors don’t always work in these cases. It’s the result of something called “dirty power:” an uneven supply of electricity caused by….something too far over my head for me to even pretend I know what I’m talking about.
The words “dirty power” describe more than just the supply of electricity in Russia.
On Easter Sunday this year, some of our friends went to church, only to find the building surrounded by police, who were turning everyone away. There had been a bomb threat, they said, and it was unsafe to meet there. One of our friends tells us the police were laughing as they sent people home, and of course no bomb was ever found.
Was there ever really a bomb threat? Maybe, but according to an article printed the following day in Novaya Gazyeta, the powers-that-be tried to stop the church from meeting for Easter services before Sunday even rolled around. This particular church—of nearly 4,000 people—has been unable to occupy their building for years now, due to legal battles over the property. Instead, they meet as small groups in members’ houses on Sundays, so it’s a big deal when they can all get together and worship in the same place: usually on major religious holidays.
This year, they rented a sports center for Easter services, but according to the same article, the director of the sports complex told them earlier in the week that they wouldn’t be able to meet after all, because the electricity would be out in that part of the city on Easter Sunday. The church called the power company, who denied any such plan to shut off power on that day. I guess the bomb scare was Plan B.
It’s interesting to hear the perspective of the Ukrainians we’ve talked to here in Kiev. They say, “Oh Russia: such a cruel place!” Ukraine has its own particularly tragic history as victims of Russian cruelty (which is a story for another day), but I guess to us, it’s not so much the cruelty of it that strikes us, but the sadness of it.
Russia is such a promising nation. It’s one of the richest—maybe the richest—place in the world in terms of natural resources. The people know the meaning of perseverance through hardship; they’re proud of their culture and heritage; they want to succeed and take their place in the modern world. But “dirty power” holds them back: corruption is a part of daily life. Everyone’s aware of it and freely talks about it, but they’re helpless against it. It’s frustrating and heartbreaking to see the bright, talented people we love there get nowhere because of it.
The good news of this Easter Sunday story is that, historically, whenever the church is persecuted it only grows stronger. Maybe that’s going to be Russia’s story all over again, as the government ejects missionaries and makes life more and more difficult for national believers. It’s reassuring to me to remember what Joseph told his brothers, years after they had betrayed him and sold him into slavery: “You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.” Come to think of it, that’s what the whole story of Easter is about too, right?
