Ukrainian Holiday Memories

  "Do you have a holiday memory or reflection you are willing to share?"  The email was inviting  me to prepare a talk for the weekly gathering of the Lake Chapala Unitarian Universalist  Fellowship (LCUUF). 
Immediately, I thought of my time in Ukraine as a peace Corps Volunteer.  I have  so many memories.  What a great chance to reflect and share.  So I got to work and began crafting my talk.  

LCUUF during a Social Justice public demonstration

LCUUF characterizes itself as, ..."brave, curious, and compassionate thinkers and doers. We are diverse in faith, ethnicity, history and spirituality, but aligned in our desire to make a difference for the good. We have a track record of standing on the side of love, justice and peace."

I presented my talk on December 18th, 2022.  And with their encouragement, I’m posting it here. The text is below and at the end there’s a link for a video presentation. I hope it's meaningful to you.  

                                        _______________________________

After 40 years working with social change organizations, I retired from AARP and joined the US Peace Corps. I went to Ukraine. What an adventure. 

 Now come with me as I recall holiday memories from Ukrainian and reflect on their meaning.

Resourceful & Courageous Mothers

I’m working with mothers in a new nonprofit. It’s called Hearts of Love. Their mission is to change the way disabled children - their disabled children – are treated. During Soviet times, they were shunned. Why? Because they didn’t fit the Soviet ideal of strong healthy comrades. They were the flawed ones. Kept at home and out of sight. No special services. No playground activities, No friends. Nothing.

But when the Soviet system crumbled, a group of courageous and resourceful mothers said, “Nyet, No more.” They created the Hearts of Love Center. Regardless of disability – physical, emotional or mental – children were welcomed. They were coming out of the closet and into the light of day.   

Hearts Of Love Center

It’s Friday. That means Art Day at the Hearts of Love Center. It’s become a popular activity to paint with the American. That would be me.

Since the holidays are approaching, I make a huge Christmas tree by taping together blocks of copy paper and painting branches. I explain, with some help from my interpreter, that our art project is to decorate this holiday tree.

All ages and levels of ability soon get busy. Some children draw with careful details. Others are mostly scribbling. No matter, all are handmade and all will adorn our tree.

I tell my young artists, “Your art is unique. Claim it with your name. When you sign your name, you’re telling the world, I made this….LOOK!”

One boy with a muscular palsy surprises me. Instead of his usual scribbles, I see him concentrating with all of his attention. Slowly he produces a design. Wow!

Proudly, he shows it to me. I dig deep into my language learning for the right Russian words to say - Otlichnaya Rabota! Otlichnaya Rabota! Good Job. We both smile.

As I put away art supplies, a little girl bursts into the room. “Chi, Chi !” she insists. Time for tea. I follow her to where a party is being laid out.

Birthday Girl

No Styrofoam here. China cups and plates encircle the table with pots of peppermint tea. It’s the little girl’s Birthday. She’s 8 years old. Her mother has brought in a small cake. It’s a very special treat.

As we settle around the table, a wonderful Ukrainian ritual is repeated. People begin sharing birthday wishes. These are not quick clichés like those printed on a Hallmark card. No, the people share stories - intimate stories about a person’s character, talents and goodness.

Each person takes time to tell their story. No hurry when you’re celebrating a birthday. I love the way Ukrainians are not embarrassed to express kindness. It’s a lesson to copy.

I look at the little girl. She’s wearing a red dress. Red is considered a most beautiful color in Ukraine. This little girl is so sweet and beautiful.

The Birthday Ritual continues. Gentle words of appreciation accumulate like dozens of gifts – but only more valuable. I am touched when her older brother speaks. I don’t know all his words, but I understand his tone and body language. He admires and loves his little sister so much. We all should be so blessed.

Soon it will be New Years. For Ukrainians this holiday is more like our American Christmas, but without all the commercial excess. It’s family time centered around a shared meal. I’m honored to be invited into this family

A whole roasted chicken

We’re gathering at Babushka’s home. Like most Ukrainian celebrations, the living room has been rearranged to accommodate the generations. A grand daughter is so excited to show me the table with food laid out. She especially wants me to see and take notice of “an entire roasted chicken.” I smile and do take notice.

But then...I wonder why does she seem to cherish it so much? Could there be deeper significance - “an entire roasted chicken?”

I believe all people carry collective memories. I learned during Peace Corps training that food shortages are a Ukrainian memory. When the Soviet empire collapsed there were long lines at markets. During the World Wars, Ukraine was the landscape of countless battles. The fertile farm land was scorched over and over again and families were left to sift through ashes.

And even more, Ukrainians endured the Holodomor. Holodomor? Have you heard about it? Like most westerners, I didn’t know. I was ignorant.

Holodomor is a Ukrainian word for death by forced starvation.

In the early 1930s, Stalin targeted opposition for extinction, especially in the rural farming communities. As a result about 6 million men, women and children were slowly killed - starved to death in a man-made famine engineered by this totalitarian regime.

Amazingly, we remember the Holocaust, lest we forget, but shame on us.  The Holodomor is mostly forgotten. Yet among Ukrainians...they never forget.

So maybe, there is a deeper significance in collective memory - a whole roasted chicken

We begin our New Years meal. And the first of many toasts is made. Toasting has a rich heritage going back to Cossack times. Each one is offered with eloquent words, a heartfelt speech and a shot of Vodka, of course.

My family shares five rounds of toasting. First and second rounds are to welcome everyone and honor our friendship together. The third to honor women. The forth to honor men. The fifth is to give Glory to Ukraine. There can be more, but often five shots of vodka is enough. Don't you think?

As we celebrate, a Surprise bursts into the room.

Surprise!

A bouquet of balloons is brought to the table. The granddaughters have inserted poetic best wishes into each balloon. Everyone selects one and squeezes it until it explodes. With a loud bang, out pops a truly hand-made blessing.  What a splendid activity. It costs next to nothing, but is filled with warm regard and love. So simple and thoughtful and lots of fun too.

Annya, an older granddaughter gives me a handmade card. I think she composed the kind message inside. I read it…

Jud & Annya

We wish you health...so you may enjoy each day in comfort.

We wish you love of friends and family...and piece (sic) within hearts.

We wish you beauty of nature ...that you may enjoy the work of God.

We wish you wisdom to choose priorities...for those things that really matter in life.  

We wish you generosity so you may share....all the good things that come to you.

We wish you happiness and joy...and blessings for the New Year.

We wish you the best of everything that you so well deserve.

As I leave this loving home, it begins to lightly snow. Nostalgia drifts into my mind and heart.   I remember home, family, and friends. Many memories from America and now more are here in Ukraine. It's a Wonderful Life….

May you too be blessed during this holiday season and cherish the deeper significance of your memories.

Link for the LCUUF Service 12/18/2022

What About God's Justice?

Social justice is the topic for this month's issue of Лице в Лице, our street magazine.

Klimentina, our Director, invited me to write a guest column.  I was honored, but...I didn't know what to say.  For almost two weeks I procrastinated with the deadline looming ever closer.  Then late one night, I Mind Mapped this article. 

***

I have a habit of talking in my sleep.  Once as a young man, I woke up an entire household of friends yelling, “What about God's Justice?”   

It was a startling awakening for them and me too.  Ever since, it's become a question for my life. 

I started my career in 1972 after graduating from seminary.  Instead of church work, I soon began organizing social service and social change projects.  I remember going to work and seeing dozens of families waiting for some form of emergency help.  We paid for rent and utilities and gave out many bags of food thinking it was the least we could do. 

Once we discovered a homeless man sleeping in a crawl space under our front door.   A couple of old blankets and a half burnt candle on top of a cardboard box were home for him. That sight led to the creation of our community's first homeless shelter.  Nightly, we began giving warm meals and beds to people who had next to nothing thinking again it was the least we could do.  

I went on to promote social justice in Washington, DC.  I organized a national network of partner organizations to end childhood hunger.  Our research showed that 15 million children in America were at risk of hunger.  It was too much. 

Through my work, I became acutely aware of injustice, prejudice and the plight of marginalized people.  

Once I remember writing:

 "Poverty is a terrible thief.  More than depriving a neighbor of food or shelter or warmth, it steals away hope.  While other thieves may take things from the past, poverty steals a person's self-respect and future.”

Since coming to Macedonia, I’ve had conversations about social justice with my new friends.  I discovered that we share many of the same yearnings. 

Sometimes we look nostalgically to the past of what was or might have been.   For me it's remembering President John F Kennedy who among many things started the Peace Corps.  Maybe for Macedonians, it's Tito or another leader from another time.  Whatever the details, we remember the good old days.  Those were years filled with hope and promise or so we think. 

Unfortunately too often, we see the past through rose colored glasses.  We gloss over blemishes and ignore problems.  We make our leaders heroic and forget that they are imperfect humans, just like us. 

This year both Macedonia and America will have elections.  It seems that no matter from what political party, candidates make lots of promises. It can sound almost Utopian and we’re tempted to believe everything wholeheartedly. 

But I think we know better.  While some changes can move towards justice, others do not.  It seems that just when we rejoice over a new day dawning, another change comes along and moves us in the opposite direction.  

As Reinhold Niebuhr, an American Theologian and Ethicist famously said,

“Nothing worth doing is complete in our lifetime; therefore, we are saved by hope.  Nothing true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore, we are saved by faith.  

Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we are saved by love. 

No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of friend or foe as from our own; therefore we are saved by the final form of love, which is forgiveness.”  (Irony of American History, page 63)

So what are we to do? 

Meeting with two of our Vendors.  They're our sales force for our street magazine and receive fifty percent of the cover price. More importantly, they've become friends.  

I’ve learned to live in the tension between the ideals of justice and political reality that falls short.  While some may despair, I think it’s good to still have ideals and to work for social justice.  

But we need to be vigilant about Utopian agendas that promise too much.  I think Niebuhr is right when he reminds us that we live in a world of partial justice. What we do will have flaws, but we do the best we know how to do at the time. 

Like a Macedonian friend reminds me, “We don’t know…what we don’t know.”   So it's a good idea to remain open to new possibilities and humble enough to realize that we too are blind in many areas.  What we manage to do for others is not perfect, but we can hope that it's making a difference. 

So I say, be more positive and do not dwell on negativity.  

An old proverb asks a question.  Is a glass of water half-empty or half-full?  

It's always half-full when people care with act of kindness especially to the marginalized of every background, race and religion.  It’s filling up when neighbors welcome strangers from Syria and beyond.  

It's almost brimming over when leaders forsake self-interest and strike out for social justice in laws and policies.  The glass becomes full whenever people join together for the common good. 

I think this outlook counters modern pessimism and the paralysis of negativity.  It does not deny that life is hard and unfair at times because it certainly is.  But it does urge us to live a life where our actions, in whatever partial and halting way, can and do make a difference.     

I found these words from Robert F Kennedy, an American leader, who like his brother was assassinated. They still speak to our time.   

“Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events. It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped….

Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.” (Address in South Africa, June 1966)

What about God's justice?  It's a question each of us answer as we live lives that can make a difference or not.    

Vienna at Christmas

Vienna at Christmas. It’s a place of music and museums; architecture and history; churches and Christmas markets.  And Oh! I can't forget cafes.  

Viennese coffee house culture is world famous. As they say, people pay for the coffee, but it’s the friendship and conversations that are consumed.  I hunt for Café Landtmann. It’s the one that Freud frequented.  It still stands on a corner near the University.

I walk in. A formally attired waiter directs me to a table. I imagine Freud walking over to that cozy corner. The parent of psychoanalysis goes from couch to café and back again and here I am.   I scan the menu. It has pictures so there’s no problem in ordering. My treat is going to be hot coco with chocolate and pistachio swirls. Yum! Wish you were here.  

Learnmore about cafe culture. 

Three guys are so deep in conversation that
they don’t see me taking their picture.

Tonight I go to my first concert. I've planned for two more in smaller churches - Trumpet and Organ Duo and Mozart and Beethoven String Quartets.  Also if I can get a ticket, I want to go to a Strauss and Mozart extravaganza at the Palace.  

But for now,  it’s a Christmas Mass at the huge Gothic St. Stephen’s Cathedral.  As I get off the Underground, a cacophony of sounds and sights smack my senses. Street musicians play. Men in seventeenth century dress hawk tickets for concerts. Families pause to gaze at lights as little one are filled with wonder. People scurry everywhere.

Outside of St. Stephen's Cathedral

I open the thick oak doors, pause at the holy water and then find a seat. A young woman next to me shares a program. I simile in appreciation, but, of course, it’s in German. I take a deep breath and listen to the organ prelude relaxing into the music. It’s Christmas in Vienna.

My days are filled with sight-seeing. So many buildings show off their baroque heritage. Others are more modern. Yet all seem to blend together harmoniously. It’s a pleasure to walk the streets.

I take time for a tour of the Parliament building. The style is Grecian with some Roman influence. Athena stands tall in front. I’m told that in a multi-religious country, it’s important not to publicly promote one faith over another. So you do not see Christian or Islamic or Jewish symbols here.

Front Of The Parliament

Interesting Details On Many Buildings

It was built during the long reign of Franz Joseph, Europe’s last great monarch. He allowed it to counter political instability, Limited democracy had a foothold. The modern era was beginning and a world war would soon unravel everything.

Inside the Parliament

Learn more about this interesting history of Austria. 

I’m off to Schonburnn Palace. It was the summer residence for successive monarchs of the Hapsburg dynasty. Imagine the accumulation of wealth that created this place. Such massive income inequality.  

Learn more about Schonburnn  

No picture taking is allowed inside the Palace. But I did take plenty outside. Fortunately, today is bright, blue and breezy. I walk my feet off!

Summer Palace of the Hapsburg Dynasty

Summer Palace Gardens 

Warm Enough For A Beautiful Water Fountain

In Vienna Christmas markets are spread out across the city. I wander into one that’s in front of City Hall. A giant tree with lights sets the tone and gluehwein, a hot wine drink, warms the body and spirit. I’m on a mission to get a few gifts for my grand kids and my great nieces. What fun.

One Of Many Stalls At The Christmas Market

Giant Tree In Front Of Vienna's City Hall

One of the features of Vienna is a Tramway that encircles the center of the city. I hop on the “Yellow Tram” since it’s equipped with an audio travelogue in multiple languages. It’s a good way to get an overview and find places to explore more deeply.

Comfortable seating makes this museum even better

I return to Kunsthistorisches Museum. It was was built in 1891 near the Imperial Palace to house the extensive collections of the Hapsburg imperial family. It’s considered one of the most eminent museums in the world. I spend the afternoon wandering from salon to salon.

I take a break in a café that occupies the grand rotunda. The building itself is an impressive work of art.

Central Dome With Staircase On Either Side

I'm Introduced to Pieter Bruegel Work

Pieter Bruegel

It’s Christmas Eve. I return to the oldest church in Vienna. However, because of my lapse of judgment and knowledge of the Underground system, I arrive about 2 1/2 hours before mass. What to do? The streets are nearly deserted, cafes are closed and it’s cold.

Then I see an establishment and it’s open. I wonder why, but I’m grateful to walk inside. I order a coffee and I as I often do when traveling solo, I start a conversation with two young women at the table next to me.

St. Ruprecht Skirche (Church)

I tell them about the church I will be attending. It’s the oldest in Vienna dating back to about 775 CE. The first edifice was built in the 12^th century. It’s small more like a chapel. Unlike so many other churches in Vienna, it’s plain, definitely not Baroque.

I discover that the church stood next to a large hotel that the Nazis commandeered for their HQs during WWII. Towards the end of the War, the Allies bombed the hell out of the HQs until only ruble remained. Amazingly, no bombs hit the Church. Only windows were shattered because of shock waves.

Now the church sits beside a park where a memorial has been constructed for those murdered by Nazi hate.

I say goodbye to my new friends and pay my bill. I ask my young waiter if the cafe is owned by Muslims. He doesn’t know for sure, but he says, “ like me, most (workers) are Muslim."

I smile and explain my gratitude for this place being opened and Muslims generally.  He smiles back and we shake hands.

I’m climbing a long flight of stairs. It feels like going on a pilgrimage. As I enter the Church, I see no Christmas tree up front. Instead, a soft  sculpture stands looking a bit like a make-shift tent -  the kind kids make in the backyard.   Except this one is not for fun times. 

A Tent Is No Home

It's entitled "A tent is no home."   I’m told the artist wants us to ponder the refugees fleeing wars in their homelands. I think about Mary and Joseph who were like refugees. After all a stable is not a home either.

The Christmas Eve service is a long one.  Starting with Genesis, a lot of sacred history is recounted.  Of course I understand nothing directly, but I try to feel the spirit of this place.  It's a good one.  

Afterward people are friendly. “Are you coming to the party,” I'm asked?  I think why not and go. 

I'm Introduced To An Older Menber

I'm curious about how the church managed through the Nazi period. I'm introduced to some of the older members.  I think the subject would make a fascinating doctoral study. 

It's after 3:30 am before I unlock the door to my hotel room.  I'm tired, but elated. It's turned out to be an amazing Christmas Eve.

On my final day, I take a walk and discover the Einstein Cafe.  I have a lovely conversation with a Greek couple.  It's one of the joys of travel - meeting new and interesting people.  

They take my picture.  I'm very happy.  I'm thinking that because of the name of this place, I'm getting a bit smarter or maybe just more of a Smart Axx.  (Chuckle)

That's it from Vienna.  From me to you....Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.