For the past few months a lively topic of discussion in Russia has been the film Leviathan, directed by Andrei Zvyagintsev. The title is taken from the Book of Job, with which the plot has some affinities. This movie won a Golden Globe award for best foreign film and was on track to receive an Oscar. The Oscar didn’t happen, but the conversation continues.

The story line involves the seizing of one man’s house, business, and property by a powerful, corrupt petty official, with the encouragement of the local Russian Orthodox prelate. The hero seeks legal recourse, but to no avail. If this weren’t bad enough, his wife has an affair with his lawyer and best friend and then kills herself. The husband is framed for her murder and convicted, with no possibility of appeal.

This is a dark picture in every sense of the word. Did it deserve its high awards? In my opinion, it’s a typical art film—well made but not outstanding. My strong suspicion is that, as so often is the case, the Golden Globe was awarded as much on political as on artistic grounds. In the West the clear perception is that the film is a veiled or not-so-veiled critique of the current Russian government.

If I’m right about the political motivation for the award—and I think I am—here’s the irony: according to Zvyagintsev, the original inspiration for the film was not any happening in Russia, but an event in the U.S.! Leviathan was originally based on the story of Marvin Heemeyer, of Granby, Colorado, who in 2004 went on a rampage with a bulldozer as the result of a zoning dispute and ended up killing himself. At first the plan was to retell that story and even shoot the film in America. Only gradually did the setting and story mutate into the final result, set in Russia, in which the hero is more a Job-like sufferer than one who takes on the system.

A second irony is that, next to love and death, the most frequently recurring theme in Russian cinema and television is corruption. Corruption is a huge problem here. Everyone knows it. No one hides it. TV series and movies again and again narrate a man’s or woman’s battle against a powerful bureaucrat or businessman whom he or she rubs the wrong way. The main difference from Leviathan is that some of the time the good guy or gal prevails in the end. But not always. This new movie breaks no new ground, with the possible exception of its implicit critiquing the Orthodox Church.

I should add that the making of Leviathan had the support (I assume that means monetary, not only moral) of the Ministry of Culture of the Russian Federation.

Here is just one more example of the Euro-American obtuseness concerning Russian life and culture. Leviathan is no political protest, but at most a social commentary about a situation that Zvyagintsev views not so much as Putinian oppression as the universal plight of humanity.

Store shelves are as full as before, with pretty much the same selection of foreign products. Soft drinks, alcohol, pastries, canned and bottled goods, shampoos, cleaning products—all of these and more EU-made items are very much in evidence.

All right, so we can’t buy Polish apples or Dutch pears. Plenty of other sellers from the Mideast and Central and Eastern Asia have taken up the slack. In fact they were here all the time. Now they have the market to themselves. Oh, yes, there used to be American chicken. I haven’t checked to see if they still sell this or not. No matter. There’s plenty else. Meanwhile, anyone who’s so inclined can still drown his food-sorrows in a box of Gallo wine.

The single really noticeable effect of food sanctions is the slight shrinking of the cheese section. Imported cheeses from Europe are now limited and costly. Selection from among domestic varieties is good, however. In short, there’s nothing to complain about. Except rising food prices. Sound familiar?

I can only tell what I see, but I’m sure it’s pretty much the same everywhere: the purpose of the May 9 observance is to celebrate a great victory, which was won at the cost of millions of Russian lives. The Second World War—or, as it’s sometimes called here, the Great Patriotic War—left its permanent scar on virtually every family.

For me, the most moving and impressive part of the whole event is how the Russians treat their veterans. Not only are they publicly honored. Young and old go up to them, give them flowers, shake their hands, thank them for what they did, and wish them health and long life.

Not just living veterans receive honor. Descendants of soldiers march in the parade carrying placards of their fathers and grandfathers who fought in the war, many of whom died in combat. There’s even an organization called “Children of the War (Дети войны).”

This year one might have expected a lot of political rhetoric concerning the current situation in Ukraine. Not so. In the speeches following the parade, I heard only one tiny reference to this crisis, and it was not addressed against Ukraine, but against certain extremists there. Truly, the people came to celebrate the end of the war in 1945, not to promote any current cause.

At these events you will note a lot of symbols from the Soviet times. Americans see this and wrongly conclude from it that nothing has really changed. It’s simply a fact that the victory was won by the Soviet Union and the Allies. This is the historical reality, and the emblems from that time are a part of the picture.

Not that there isn’t any political proselytizing on the side. The Communist Party was there, passing out its literature. (See pamphlet below.) They probably hoped to capitalize on nostalgia and on one of the successes of the Union. Not many people seemed too interested, however.

The Victory Day parade is a joyous day here. There’s something for everyone. From the few surviving veterans of World War Two, to soldiers serving now, to children’s organizations, all join together to keep alive the memory of that time. They honor the past and look toward the future.

At the Lutheran Church of St. Andrew in Novosibirsk, Russia, Easter divine service was followed by a craft fair. This has become an annual event here.

The various crafts are made by members. Proceeds from sales go to the aid of a local orphanage.

Here in Russia, Lent is a serious happening. Many people fast for real and devote much time to prayer, reflection, and attending worship, especially during Holy Week, when there is a divine service each day. This sets Easter into a blinding-bright contrast. The joy of Christ’s resurrection is evident, and it spills over into this festive post-service event.

As usual, the craft-offerings were modest but well received. This is mostly a time where people greet one another, eat snacks, browse, and buy some small item at a too-high price in order to raise more money.

The highlight this year was no doubt the “craft” of music. Dmitri, a new member who is a conservatory-trained violinist working as a professional musician, and Tonya, one of the pastors’ daughters, played violin-recorder duets of Easter hymns. Then Dmitri entertained us with samples of the kind of music he performs in restaurants and stores or at banquets and parties. People were enthralled. The “hat” quickly got filled with billyeti, the tickets people had bought with real money to spend at the fair. I’ll be surprised if the music wasn’t the single biggest profit-maker.

Here people often give one another Easter gifts of eggs, real decorated or chocolate, and kulichi, special Easter cakes. Featured here are a couple that I received.

All of this has nothing directly to do with Christ’s glorious resurrection. But it’s an irrepressible outflowing of the joy occasioned by that event. After all, the Resurrection is the decisive moment in the course of the world. By it the cross is shown to be the instrument of death to death! By it Christ is revealed to be the Son of God in power. By the Resurrection of Christ, resurrection from the grave to life on the last day is assured to all who are in Him. A blessed Eastertide to all!

What Americans are hearing from their government and from American news sources of all political stripes about the situation in Ukraine is simplistic, to say the least. Contrary to what these are reporting, there are no guys in white hats and guys in black hats. Above all, the ignorance of history shown by the American government and media is appalling.

Or is it in fact ignorance? Could it be something else?

A New, “Old” Take on History

President Obama has been quoted as saying that the Russians, in seeking to annex the Crimea, are on the wrong side of history. German Chancellor Angela Merkel criticized Russian president Putin for using 19th- and 20th-century tactics.

Such comments betray a view of history that itself is rooted in the 19th century. This view dislikes the maxim that history repeats itself, and opts instead for a progressive, evolutionary outlook that treats the past as irrelevant. Human society, indeed, human nature itself are getting better and better, says this creed, more and more peaceful and civilized. Those who act contrary to this progressive ideology are some kind of throwbacks, social neanderthals, who deserve to be ostracized. Ironically, this take on history has much in common with the Marxist evolutionary ideas of progress that prevailed in the Soviet Union.

Only such an ahistorical conception can explain how Germany, who invaded Russia in 1941, at an immense cost of blood on both sides, can now criticize Russia for a rather peaceful annexation of its own former territory—even daring to compare Putin with Hitler. Or how Britain and France, who in the 1850s fought Russia on Russia’s own Crimean turf, can now pretend moral superiority in their condemnations of the Russian annexation of its former land.

That was then, they feel. This is now. Our own shady history has no bearing on the present. We’re now enlightened. We’ve moved beyond our barbarous past and cannot be held responsible. We’ve evolved. Only today matters.

Is this progressive view of history correct? As a Christian theologian, I voice an emphatic no. Our Lord and His prophets and apostles tell us that there will be wars and conflicts to the end of this age. As a Lutheran, I am bound to believe what the Book of Concord says on the basis of Scripture, namely, that human nature is not improving, but growing ever weaker.

The hard evidence since the 19th century, when the evolutionary views came into being, more than abundantly supports the deterioration of society and humanity. Technological progress hasn’t brought about a corresponding progress in peaceful relations among nations and individuals. Nor will it ever. It is quite the reverse, as any sane bystander can see. Only when the King of kings returns will there be peace on earth. Until then, borders will be drawn and redrawn with blood. That’s just the way it is. So, in order to understand how and why things are, and what to do about them, we’d better learn from history instead of pretending the past doesn’t count, and that all that matters is our romantic, utopian view of how the present should be.

I’m neither defending nor condemning what has happened in the Crimea or is now happening in eastern Ukraine, but only wish to show a different side of some things from a right historical perspective and from the standpoint of Russians.

History 1: Ukraine

Ukraine itself—until recently known in English as “the Ukraine”—has always had close ties with Russia. Kiev is the cradle of Russian culture and religion. Ukraine used to be known also as Malorossia, “Little Russia.” The name “Ukraine” is actually an alternate form of a word meaning “outskirts” or “border.” That’s why in English it had “the” attached: “the outskirts.” Of what? It’s not hard to guess. Russians themselves traditionally speak of being “on” the Ukraine, that is, on the edge, not “in” Ukraine. Both geographically and psychologically, the two countries were virtually inseparable, though distinguishable.

In the 1990s, after the dissolution of the USSR, for the first time Ukraine became an entirely separate entity, in some instances being bitterly opposed to Russia. The reasons for this are complex. They include a growing nationalism and a desire to distinguish Ukrainian language and culture from those of Russia. A telling factor in all this is Stalin’s having included within the borders of Ukraine, after World War II, some territory that was historically never part of the Russian Empire, but rather of eastern Europe, and so was always pro-European and anti-Russian. Like his successor Khrushchev, Stalin held to that evolutionary ideology which taught that Communism would dominate the world, and that these national borders would cease to matter—especially as all peoples abandoned their dark-age religions for the enlightenment of Dialectical Materialism. Like his successor, Stalin has thus far been proven wrong.

For centuries there was huge crossover between Russia and Ukraine, so that today the two peoples, who were related from the beginning, are quite mixed. In addition, during Soviet times many ethnic Russians went to live and work in Ukraine. In 1991, when the Soviet music stopped, many were left standing in front of chairs they didn’t want to sit in. In other words, they found themselves suddenly citizens of a country that they weren’t ethnically or culturally part of, and that didn’t like them much, now that the country accentuated its independence from Moscow and its cultural uniqueness. All these facts help explain the deep divisions existing within the borders of present Ukraine between militantly pro-western and pro-Russian groups.

History 2: Crimea

In the 18th century the Crimea became part of the Russian Empire. It wasn’t then part of the Ukraine. Yet in 1954—with no one’s consent—Khrushchev as a gesture gifted the region to the Ukraine, from whence he came. All this was fine as long as the Soviet Union existed. In the 1950s it seemed to the Soviets that their union would last perpetually. Khrushchev should have learned from history that empires welded together out of different nations, cultures, languages, and ethnicities don’t hold together forever. The Soviet Union was no exception.

With the breakup of the Union, the majority Russian population in the Crimea found itself part of a nation with which it now had little sympathy. The pro-Russian sentiment there is no invention of the Russian government to justify its actions. Nor was the vote to leave Ukraine forced at gunpoint, as some in the West are saying or implying.

History 3: The Soviet Breakup

In 1991 there was a Union-wide referendum in which the Soviet people had a chance to express their wishes on the future existence of the USSR. When asked if they would like the Union to stay together if they had a constitution guaranteeing their rights, the majority voted yes. Yet their leaders ignored the voice of the people and dissolved the Union anyway. Many in Russia, even Christians, remain unhappy about what they see as a betrayal. (This is the context of Putin’s infamous comment about the Soviet Union’s breakup being a great modern tragedy. It’s not about the ideology. It’s about the territory. It’s about border security.)

The dissolution of the Soviet Union has created artificial and unstable boundaries. What happened in Georgia a few years ago and what has just happened in the Crimea are not simply attempts of Russia to amass more territory. They are, one might argue, inevitable sortings-out. Just as a dammed-up river, when the dams are not maintained and disintegrate, will find its natural course once again, so like ethnicities and like cultures will gravitate toward like. Of course, the strong will take advantage of the weak, and Russia is the strong player in this game. That’s just the sinful way of the world, and America too is far from free of guilt, although our way of going about it is usually a little different. It’s hard to say what will happen next, but the border-shifting is probably not over yet.

If all this is hard for Americans to understand, let me give a hypothetical illustration. Imagine that you were given a choice: keep America together, or separate into two nations, Orangeland, which contains the traditional capital, and Purpleland. The majority say, “We want to keep the union intact.” But contrary to the popular vote, the leaders divide the nation into two geopolitical units.

Now, say, you’re an Orange, living in an orange county or state, in the middle of Purpleland. The Purples don’t like you and yours. They do everything they can to eliminate the differences and turn you into them. Then all of a sudden your territory has a chance to be part of Orangeland. Your region wants to remain orange. Wouldn’t it make sense to jump at the chance? Wouldn’t it be natural for Orangeland to want to defend and annex its own kind, who are being persecuted in Purpleland? After all, historically your orange territory, now part of Purpleland, was governed from Washington D.C., not from Breakneck Falls or wherever Purpleland decides to put its capital.

A Gray Picture

Because from the beginning the United States has been a nation of diversity, we expect everyone else around the world to be the same as we are. They aren’t. They haven’t agreed to what we have agreed to. Their histories are different. They don’t welcome diversity. We cannot successfully force them to accept our values and be like us, much as we’d like to. Our attempts at doing so haven’t panned out very well. Nor are they likely to in the future.

The West needs to consider the given histories and face the realities. And it needs to reevaluate its own role. According to the predominant version of the whole story here in Russia, the West funded and equipped the protesters in Ukraine who a few months ago unseated their lawfully elected president, because he was pro-Russia. Is this true? Based on the past history of America’s actions, it probably is to some degree. Our government always denies its covert operations, but years later they come to the surface. Why should this time be any different? If this is what has happened now, the Russian annexation of the Crimea could be seen as a counter-move in a geographical game of chess. Likewise with the current unrest in eastern Ukraine. Here the West is quick to accuse Putin of aiding and abetting the protesters there, while denying its earlier similar actions, if there were in fact any, in Kiev. When it comes to the Crimean annexation, the West cries foul, but is curiously silent about its support of a Ukrainian administration whose own legitimacy is in question after the removal of a lawfully elected president by a militant few. Russians cannot help but see a kind of hypocrisy of the West’s position here, and for them that doesn’t lend credibility to western claims.

Indeed, the whole situation in Ukraine is symptomatic of the struggle for influence in eastern Europe. In a sense, Ukraine is a pawn in a power game between East and West. Yet it is no neutral party. The divisions within the borders of Ukraine are real, and they give both sides pretexts and justifications for doing what they are doing.

Russians feel that their nation is in the right, simply because these territories have been traditionally within their sphere of influence, even part of their own lands. Why should unilateral decisions about borders made by tyrants like Stalin and Khrushchev, decrees which no one else approved, be perpetually binding? Russians disapprove of the West’s trying to bring their nation’s historical territories into its own sphere instead.

What to Do?

When discussing such matters, Russians traditionally ask two questions: Who’s to blame? and What to do? We’ve dealt somewhat with the first. Everyone’s to blame. Now on to the second.

What is the answer? No one knows. Economic sanctions are not likely to work well against Russia. History should teach us that the proud people who burned Moscow rather than deliver the keys of the Kremlin to Napoleon, who suffered starvation and disease rather than yield Leningrad to the Nazis, is not going to capitulate to the comparatively mild punishment of economic hardships.

The stiffer these sanctions become, the higher the danger that the West, rather than making Russia comply, will simply isolate her, if Russia believes that her interests are better served by securing her borders. In the long run this isolation would not be a good thing for America, for Russia, or for the world.

There is really no insurmountable barrier now to a reasonably smooth cooperation between Russia and America. It was one thing when the Soviet ideology of world domination reigned. That is no longer in play, despite what some American news sources say. In fact, those who suspect that the old ideology lives on here among the leaders would do better to look closer to home. I see a lot more signs of life for Communism in America than here in Russia. Russians have already tried that. There’s no longer the same agenda of world domination, which from the western standpoint used to be the real “cold” in the Cold War. Have we forgotten this?

Yet there continues to be a lack of trust on both sides. Russia sees NATO as a threat to its security, just as Europe and America see Russian “expansionism” as a threat to theirs. In fact, both sides are probably less interested in aggression than in defense. On the part of Russia, the intent is not to restore the Soviet Union, but to have secure borders. Rather than all the rhetoric and propaganda that is being thrown around now, it would be better to recognize this and to explore ways of cooperation. Both parties need to work harder at building trust.

American foreign policy, regardless of which political party is in power, seems to view a strong Russia as a threat to American security. I don’t claim to be an expert here, but would point out that, historically, a weak Russia has not been in the best interests of America. In every major conflict, Russia has been our ally. Would it perhaps be better to forge trust, cooperation, and avenues of mutual strength?

There will probably never be a natural alliance between Russia and America. I’m not sure why, but suppose it has something to do with location on opposite sides of the world. It has something to do with who our neighbors are. To some degree our respective interests will always be at odds. This need not be bad. Having two large, strong nations who are in friendly tension, or tense friendship, could actually be a good thing for the world.

For this to happen, the Cold War rhetoric needs to fall by the wayside. Each side accuses the other of maintaining it, and both are guilty. To get rid of the rhetoric, all need first to abandon the Cold War mentality. This will be harder to do, as long as those who hold power have living memories of that terrible time. In this fallen world, the suspicions won’t be gotten completely rid of. But would it hurt to make conscientious efforts in that direction? All the talk of a relationship “reset” at the beginning of the Obama administration has long since given way to the same tired old patterns. It’s time for less talk and more action.

Again, this reshuffling of territories isn’t the simple case of right and wrong that most news sources and government spokespersons are making it. From the standpoint of Christian theology, no one is righteous. All are liars. True to that, this crisis holds no shining beacon of truth anywhere, and one looks in vain for it. In any event, we can better deal with the situation only with better understanding. We can only gain this understanding by knowing the history and taking it into account.

Evaluating the present and future in light of the past: that’s the only way to be truly on the right side of history.

Now, with the Olympics running their full course, the Russian media have place for little else. It’s been this way for awhile. All eyes here have been on Sochi and have been following the elaborate preparations for the winter games.

Yet not long ago, for a week or so, the long-awaited Winter Olympics were overshadowed, even eclipsed, by another event. Festivity made way for solemnity.

January 27 marked the 70th anniversary of the end of the Siege of Leningrad (now once again St. Petersburg) by the Nazis. That date spelled the end of 872 days of misery.

The winter of 1941–42 was especially harsh. The freeze was unusual even for that northern climate. Dwellings had no heat or running water. Normal residents received a ration of 125 grams (less than 4.5 ounces) of bread per day. Many, many people froze or starved to death that first winter. Because of the cold, the dead couldn’t be buried, but had to lie in the streets.

Although that was the worst of it, many more perished later. The official death toll was given at over 600,000, but some believe the actual count to have been much higher.

This is why, at the end of January, the soon-coming Olympics were all but choked out of the airwaves by documentaries and dramas about that terrible time.

Now it’s back to fun and games. But the Siege of Leningrad won’t be put far behind. It’s always lurking in the shadows. Some horrors you want to forget, but some you can never shake once they come to your turf.

If you’re curious and not too weakhearted, here’s a link to a documentary video. There’s no dialogue, so language won’t be a barrier.  Блокада  / Siege of Leningrad

In Soviet Russia, Christmas was of course greatly downplayed, and the New Year assumed many of that holiday’s functions, including the decorated tree, gifts, and Ded Moroz, the Russian dynamic equivalent of Santa Claus.

Accordingly, there were scads of New Year’s films made, some memorable, some not. But The Irony of Fate stands head and shoulders above them all. In popularity it’s more than the equivalent of It’s a Wonderful Life in America, and, being totally secular and not venturing into speculations about the afterlife, it doesn’t suffer from the theological difficulties of the latter.

I have watched The Irony of Fate more times than I can count. For me that’s saying a lot. I watch movies only once. Rarely I’ll watch something two or even three times, not more. I began viewing this one when I hardly knew any Russian, and initially the repetitions were to help with the language. When that became easier, I was intrigued with what the film had to say about its time and culture. Now I watch it about once a year, just because.

The story is based on the phenomenon of identical apartment buildings and street names throughout the Soviet Union. 

The male lead of the film goes to the banya with his friends on New Year’s Eve, accidentally gets drunk, and in his stupor ends up on a flight to Leningrad. Thinking he’s still in Moscow, the hero gives the taxi driver his address, goes to what looks like his building, turns his key in the identical lock of an apartment identical to his, and falls into the leading lady’s bed (she isn’t home at the time). The plot develops from there, with a lot of ironic twists and turns, no small amount of humor, and many memorable lines. If you’re daring and have several hours to spare, you can watch the two parts of this 1976 made-for-TV film online. If your Russian isn’t so good, this version has English subtitles. Part 1  Part 2

Why does this movie continue to have such an appeal? The NPR report suggests that it nostalgically reminds people of a simpler time. But this can’t explain why it became wildly popular from the outset, already during that “simpler time.” The fact is that it’s a fine production, with real substance behind the comedy. Arguably its main strength is the abundance of songs and verses. The texts are the work of some of the finest twentieth-century Russian poets, set to artistic but simple and accessible music played on a guitar. The attentive viewer will note that the message of the poems is generally connected to the story. The instrumental theme song heard throughout the movie, with its festive holiday mood, turns out to be a song about the advantages of not having an aunt, a dog, a wife, a house, and so on, that may offset the advantages of having them. It then invites the hearer to “decide for yourself: to have or not to have.”

This may be The Irony of Fate’s profound secret. Behind the frivolity and humor, the glitter and the jollity, lies a note of tragedy—more than the slight sadness alluded to in the NPR piece. The poetry is mostly about unhappy or lost love, betrayal, separation, alienation, even about death. Indeed, the new romance that develops through a quirk of fate leaves two others in the lurch. In American romantic comedies, the jilted lover is either evil, or realizes it’s all for the best, or finds someone else right away. Here the two deserted fiancés are perfectly fine people whose only glaring fault is excessive jealousy. They’re left behind with no recourse. It’s all about the happiness of two, fatefully established at the expense of two others.

All of this does reflect an essential aspect of the Russian character. This is, after all, about the irony of fate, and Russians tend to be fatalists. They also see all too easily the heartbreak of life. The Russian soul finds the formulaic Hollywood “happy-end,” as they call it, unrealistic and unsatisfying. Can there really be happiness without sorrow?

The high quality of The Irony of Fate is underscored by the “sequel,” made some 30 years later with a reunion of the original cast, but not the same director. I won’t go into detail about the story, except to say that history repeats itself, more or less, with the son and daughter of the first film’s main characters. (According to the sequel, the hero and heroine of The Irony of Fate didn’t live happily ever after.) It’s a typical silly New Year’s comedy. Unlike its predecessor, it’s not founded on artful poetry and music. There is one song only from the original, plus one new song, neither having much of anything to do with the plot. I haven’t yet met a Russian who has anything good to say about this film. For my part, I think it’s not bad if taken in isolation and not compared to the original. When that comparison is made, however, the new movie falls far, far short. It only underscores why the old The Irony of Fate has become a classic and lives on. In its art and in its take on life, that film transcends its time.

The next day, December 1, everything seemed to be back on its normal powdered track, albeit a month late. But on Thursday, December 5, again it rained. Where’s the Siberian cold? By the looks of things, it seems to have migrated to parts of the U.S.

Wouldn’t you think that the locals would be overjoyed for a mild winter thus far? Maybe a few are, but all around me I hear discontent and even alarm. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be! Where’s our snow? What will be the adverse effects of this?

For my part, I’ll breathe a sigh of relief when (or if) things revert to their normal, frozen, snowy state.

It was my own fault, really. Usually, when I receive a proposed flight schedule from the travel agent,  before approving it I check not only the connecting flights, but also the time interval between flights. This time I overlooked that second step. When it was already too late, I noticed with horror that the international flight from Odessa, Ukraine, to Moscow was to arrive only an hour and ten minutes before the departure from there to Novosibirsk.

Only an hour! Never mind that all this would take place in Terminal D of Sheremyetovo Airport. In order to make the next flight, I would have to fill out two copies of the emigration card, endure the slow line at passport control, pick up my bag, go through customs, stand in another unending line to check in, recheck my bag, go through security, and find the gate. A travel agent who hasn’t done it personally sees only that it all works on paper, and cannot possibly realize the complications of going through Moscow. Even within the same terminal, you just don’t change flights in an hour.

At the Odessa airport I had a long discussion with the checkin clerk, explaining my situation and requesting her to check me and my bag through to Novosibirsk. She was unyielding, saying, “Those are the rules.” So I resigned myself to missing my homeward flight. I sent an email to my Novosibirsk contact, informing him that he probably wouldn’t need to go to the airport at 4:00 a.m.

Yet Sheremyetovo offered more than one surprise. There was no emigration card to fill out. At passport control they scanned my passport and a machine automatically printed out the card. Still, more than half my allotted time had already passed. I collected my bag and raced toward checkin. To my amazement, there was an agent right outside customs who took my suitcase and checked me in, in no time flat. All that remained was to go through security and find the gate.

I ran to security, which went pretty quickly, and headed full steam to the gate. I was out of breath and had only moments to spare before boarding. But I made it! In the Moscow of old, all this wouldn’t have been possible. (See my tale about our first time in Moscow.)

Sheremyetovo has gone from being one of the most inconvenient and fearsome to one of the most contemporary and comfortable airports in the world.

For many Americans May 9 is just another spring day. In Russia, however, one would have to be comatose not to pick up that this date marks the anniversary of the Allies’ victory over Nazi Germany. World War Two will not be soon forgotten here. Much of it was fought on Russian soil, resulting in the majority of total war casualties on both sides. They say that some 20,000,000 Russians, both soldiers and civilians, died in the war. Some believe that this estimate is low.

I Love a Parade

Every year this day is marked with parades. In Moscow and some other cities this includes a display of military might. Here in Akademgorodok the celebration is more modest. Yet hundreds of people, from the few remaining veterans and the children of the war to young students who only know that time as long-past history, take part.

Watching this parade is like going back in time, stepping into another world. Since the end of the Soviet Union things have changed so dramatically here that scarcely anything from that era remains. Not so on this day!

Once again loudspeakers blare out patriotic marches and songs from the ’40s. An announcer congratulates the people on the great victory, with a voice and inflection right out of old Soviet movies. Old-timers sit together and sing the old tunes. Only relative newcomers such as helium balloons remind one that the year is 2013, not 1945.

In Akademgorodok, a city founded to facilitate higher education, not only soldiers, but also children’s schools, the university, and the various scientific institutes all participate in the parade. In addition, clubs and organizations take part. Most people are on foot. A few are on horseback. There are motorcycles and a jeep or two, but no floats as we know them.

The memory of veterans is highly honored here. This year many people brought their photographs of deceased fathers and grandfathers (and sometimes mothers and grandmothers) who fought in the war to a special place, which blew them up and put them on placards. The living generations then marched with these in parade, in the stead of their ancestors.

Sadness Mingled with the Joy

May 9 is a day of great joy here. Yet such joy exists only against the backdrop of unspeakable human suffering and death. It’s impossible—for me, at least—not to contemplate the dark evil that lay behind this war. What about those who weren’t celebrating at the parade, because they were never born, their “fathers” having been cut down in the bud of youth? What about those countless fallen soldiers who had no one to march for them, because they left no one to remember them?

Still, the festivities give little time for brooding. Sorrow is quickly replaced by gladness. This day is a humble preview of how it will be at the end of the world, when Christ returns and raises up His followers: “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (1 Cor 15:54–55).