Leningrad or St Petersburg?

We have been blessed to meet an interesting parade of people through our small B&B. Earlier in the year we had a friend of a friend stay, a retired professor from the USA who had been married for a time to a Russian from Siberia. Her stories were fascinating, and after she went home she sent us an account of her time living in fairly primitive accommodation in Siberia in the depths of winter, along with a Soviet-era picture booklet on Leningrad – which has now reverted to its original name, St Petersburg.

As I looked through the pictures, I realized the glaring omission: not one photo of the stunning Cathedral of the Saviour on Spilled Blood. Instead, the booklet boasted pictures of Communist era high-rise cement flats, stark and featureless.

It occurs to me that our perception of beauty depends in part on our ideology, on our view of the world, perhaps. To the graphic designer working on the tourist booklet on Leningrad, the accomplishments of the Communist period could be seen in the modern high-rise flats. Because religion was demoted and believers punished, the glorious onion dome architecture of the Cathedral was dismissed, perhaps deemed archaic and ugly.

When we visited St Petersburg a couple of years ago, I found myself constantly wanting to go back and see the Cathedral from the perspective of the canal, or coming to it from a different angle. Its beauty reminded me of the faith of the builders and those who commissioned them. Its beauty reminded me of the love of our Creator, who humbled himself to be born in the body of a man, so that we can live with him forever. Those Soviet-era flats only remind me of the hubris of political systems – not just Soviet ones.

The Great Russian Adventure - Intro

Psalm 37 v 4: Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

The Great Russian Adventure

My ancestors are Scottish, German and English. I don’t believe there is a drop of Russian blood in my body. But since adolescence I have been fascinated with Russia. On my best friend’s sixteenth birthday, her dad took us to the premiere of Dr Zhivago in Hollywood. (We were so innocent; we didn’t even understand the concept of an affair and had to have an explanation during the intermission – poor Mr Eipper.)

So was it the dramatic opening of the wee boy gathered with others round his mother’s grave in the depths of a Russian winter? Was it the frightening image of Zhivago trekking through Siberia, his facial hair frozen and his lips frostbitten? Was it the scenes of revolution and hardship? The beauty of Lara or the exotic attraction of Omar Sharif? 

Or was it my high school years in orchestra, playing Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet? University years studying Dostoevsky and Tolstoy? Taking political science classes in Soviet foreign policy? 

Voraciously reading everything Solzhenitsyn wrote and championing him when he was arrested and then deported? They were the years of the Vietnam war and I wasn’t a Communist sympathiser in any way (though I opposed the war), and still am not. The horrors of the Stalin years and the deprivations and systematic dismantling of centuries of sincere faith are desecrations of the human spirit. 

But still, Russia – the vast steppes, the ‘trans-Siberian railway’, the fairytale onion domes and the red walls of the Kremlin – have always stirred my soul. Beautiful. Haunting.

So meeting Ivan and Ksenia was like a gift from God. Unexpected. Not even on my radar. For that meeting to grow into a deep and sincere friendship has been amazing, not least because of the different generations to which we belong. For them to suggest a plan that we visit Russia with them felt so right, so natural, such a blessing, and we immediately set to learning the Cyrillic alphabet and desperately trying to remember a few words.

And so began the Great Russian Adventure, one of the wonders of my life, one of the many gifts God has dropped into my lap. God – our loving heavenly Father – who doesn’t always answer my prayers the way I want but then lavishes some unexpected pleasure on me like this – how I love him. 

Perhaps many would think this was just a circumstantial situation, but I see God’s fingerprints all over it. Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Amen.

Over the next weeks I will try to share some of the experiences, some of the thoughts and feelings from September in Moscow, Tver and St Petersburg, enjoying ‘Indian summer’ weather, fabulous culture and amazing cuisine. 

Gratitude to God. Gratitude to Ivan and Ksenia.