It seems like the sun never sets in the Baltic States. When Q squad arrived from southern Africa to our final destinations in Latvia and Lithuania on June 1st, we looked around at the empty streets and fields of flowers bathed in sunlight and wondered where everyone was.
(This is what Latvia looked like for Paige: Latvia through the lens)
“It’s almost 11 o’clock! At night!” We told each other in amazement. “Everyone must be sleeping already!”
We soon discovered the time of night didn’t necessarily determine whether or not people left their homes in this part of Europe. “Outgoing” and “social” aren’t words usually used to describe “Lithuanian,” “Latvian” or “Estonian.”
We only had one-hour time difference from the three months prior, but we had worlds between cultures. After experiencing the boisterous, welcoming cultures of African countries, India and Nepal, the silent streets of Latvia and Lithuania caused a similar shock that follows jumping into a cold pool after sitting in a hot tub for a while.
Our North American reputation preceded us in the Baltic States as a loud, touchy and Christian people. In previous countries, our white skin set us apart and automatically labeled us “Christian;” whereas, in Europe our accents stereotyped us such. With a label like that, our feet never left the platform of opportunity to exhibit the love of Jesus.
“Of course you are Christian—you are American,” was a phrase many of us have heard for the past seven months. People we meet don’t see being a “Christian” as an option for us, but rather a cultural obligation. Many of us encountered the power of personal testimonies to respond to those statements. We say things along the lines of: “I’m not Christian because of my parents. I love Jesus because he loves me, and I’ve chosen to believe that.” Usually this statement ensues a confused expression and an open door to share details of our own stories highlighting the gospel, but in Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia, getting to that conversation looked different than previous countries.
Due to years of Soviet oppression, war, loss of culture, fairly new independence, heavy spiritual persecution, Roman Catholic religiosity and corrupted family life, most people we encountered carried around thick and guarded exterior walls. It took more than a quick greeting to get a conversation started. As many of us learned firsthand, Lithuanians, Latvians and Estonians required a time investment to build enough trust to even hold a conversation. Offering prayer after some small talk generally preceded courteous smiles and generated excuses for escape.
Many of us eventually learned the value of building relationships through daily chores such as chopping wood, cooking, gardening, playing games, cleaning and other group activities. Ministry sometimes just looked like living a Jesus centered life, and oftentimes didn’t even lead to a conversation. If we were lucky enough to make a relationship, we soon found that once you breached their high exterior walls, the following walls nearly fell over. Lithuanians, Latvians and Estonians highly value loyalty and honest relationship, which both challenged and encouraged many of us.
(Here’s an example: Ashleigh’s team in Estonia)
Unfortunately these countries also carry around a despondent spirit of abandonment due to the amount of single-mother families, absent fathers and widespread alcoholism. We encountered many children who knew nothing of a father’s love as well as people carrying around a heavy disregard for anything to do with Jesus. What an opportunity for us to show the genuine love of God and maintain conversations instead of arguments!
Our unsung hero teams, which is a month involving looking for new ministry contacts, discovered creative outreaches to love and meet people, such as handing out flowers and notes to people on the street, evangelizing in populated areas and talking to people in coffee shops. They represented Christ in whatever environment God presented them, like showing what it looks like to enjoy life without substance abuse, or loving your teammates sacrificially, or praying together for God’s guidance.
(Bridget wrote blogs on some cool people they met: Cool People )
After experiencing third world cultures for five months, jumping into Western culture for the same type of ministry seemed strange. Many people who feel called to share the gospel with the nations generally don’t first think of European countries; however, God called our squad to Eastern Europe and showed us a different level of spiritual destitution than we expected. Signing up for the World Race, we expected the orphans, street kids, sex trafficking and idol worshipping, but not many fully realized the desperate need for Jesus devastating the Western world. It felt uncomfortably too close to home.
In third world countries, people tend to focus more on just trying to live, eat and survive, while in the Western world, people focus more on building an exciting life within societal construct and often forget what it looks like to appreciate every meal. In Europe, we no longer encountered a people longing for a source of provision and security, but instead found a people distracted and deceived. Instead of colorful idols and witchcraft, we confronted lust, greed, fear and loss. The people we met these past two months weren’t looking for provision; they needed relationship. They needed love. They needed to know that they weren’t alone. They needed to know that there’s more to this life than wondering nightly if it was your fault your dad abandoned your family, or that life was more than the next party.
We got the opportunity to show love to people who equated a personal, loving God with Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, because the only times they regularly stepped into a church were Christmas and Easter. We got the opportunity to make relationships with people who would’ve otherwise never heard about the authentic relationship their Savior longs to have with them.
“Christianity is countercultural”—a popular phrase these days. What does that look like in practice? As North Americans do we really know? Our squad experienced that personally these past two months. In America if something offends you at a church, you can just go “church shopping” and find one that “better suites your needs” by walking across the street to the neighboring church. In the Baltic States, the “next church” isn’t an option because you’re lucky enough to even have one in your town. Church, prayer and Jesus alone in these countries are radical.
We partnered with radical Christians, who loved Jesus enough to be shunned by their communities, and yet prayed for their persecutors all the same. Many of our friends back home call us radical for traveling the world, but we learned that prayer alone is truly radical. We witnessed multiple hour-long prayer meetings, joyful baptisms, hungry youth camps and empowered men and women who long to see their country turn to Jesus. We witnessed truly radical Christians whose hearts desire their countrymen to know Jesus.
It seemed like the sun never set in the Baltic States. We got to see that firsthand as God blessed us by showing us how He never gives up on His children. We experienced a culture full of lost and broken children of God, and we got the privilege to tell them that the Son of God will never set in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, because these Baltic States know the power of prayer.
