I just realized that I traveled from the northwestern border of Russia to its southeastern edge—in less than a week! Vyborg lies only about twenty miles from the Finnish border, while Vladivostok sits across the sea from Japan.
This time, I was welcomed by the Catholic Church community in Vladivostok for the Russia’s Far East Regional Continuing Catechism Formation Conference, and also spoke to a group of international students from the Far Eastern Federal University. It truly felt as though I had circled half the globe, with participants in my audience representing nearly every continent, culture, race, language, and background.
One of the days became an unforgettable pilgrimage through the city’s sacred and tragic history. We spent the whole day visiting places tied to the persecution of the Church in the 1930s–’50s: cemeteries, mass graves, memorials, and small chapels. Many of these sites were nearly abandoned and in various stages of disrepair—a sobering reminder of how much the country still struggles to face, or perhaps chooses to forget, that dark chapter of its past, while it is busy celebrating its military victories of the Great Patriotic War (Russian side of WWII).
Later that same day, I was asked to include in my presentation on the Historic Foundation of the Christian Faith a short testimony about my grandfather’s martyrdom for Christ—Fr. Aleksandr, who was executed by the KGB in 1939. As I spoke, I could barely hold back my tears.
The next day brought a much brighter moment: the wedding banquet of my second cousin’s son. Instead of giving a toast, I offered a prayer for the newlyweds, lifting their marriage to the Lord for His blessing. Many guests came up to me afterward, expressing gratitude and saying how deeply moved they were by the prayer.
Today I’m back on the European side of Russia, teaching in the cities of Danilov, Tutayev, and Rybinsk during the final four days of my trip—speaking in public schools and at teachers’ conferences. My first session took place early this morning and went far over the scheduled time, as the audience’s questions about faith and biblical truth just kept coming. I literally had to run from the classroom to a small office with Wi-Fi to teach my next session—an online seminary class in Apologetics. By the time I finished, my driver was already signaling from under the window, ready to take me on a two-hour ride through total darkness to my next destination.
Time always seems to pick up speed during the final days of a journey.
