SCOTT LINGENFELTER 

The modern Russian state continues to sail on the winds of imperialist power, towing much of the Russian Orthodox Church in its wake. President Putin and Patriarch Kirill are committed to securing a pro-Moscow “Russian World” [Russian: Russkii mir] beyond the borders of the Russian Federation, even as their nation’s military impels millions of Ukrainians—many native Russian speakers—to make harrowing treks in search of refuge in the West. Both president and patriarch suggest the ongoing fighting is akin to the liberation of Ukraine from Nazi influence during the Second World War, even as indiscriminate Russian shelling targets innocents in theaters, hospitals, and schools. Unsettled by a combination of disgust and government intimidation, thousands of Russia’s best and brightest are also fleeing to Western capitals in search of a new life. 

All this is hard to take in for those of us who experienced firsthand some of the events of 1991, when the oppressive edifice of the Soviet Empire appeared to crumble. It is not just that 30 years have passed in the blink of an eye. It is what is evidently unchanged that disturbs this writer. It is almost enough to make one despair. Almost, but not quite—the Kingdom is always more than we know. 

For encouragement, we can turn to a Russian Orthodox theologian, Sergei Bulgakov (1871-1944). Amid a similarly traumatic upheaval a century ago, he was forced to piece together a new life in Europe after being expelled by the Bolsheviks on the day of the Soviet Union’s founding in 1922, along with other opposition intellectuals aboard the so-called “Philosophers’ Ship.” This followed his remarkable personal journey from Marxist economist to Orthodox priest during the twilight years of Imperial Russia, including periods in both Kyiv and Moscow. Bulgakov was thus exiled from the land he loved, and his career was severed by both revolution and war. Yet he would go on to become one of the most brilliant Orthodox theologians of the twentieth century and a prominent ecumenist. In Paris during the dark days of Nazi occupation, throat cancer robbed Bulgakov of his voice towards the end of his life. Yet his message still resounds today, as if from a distant shore.

Forged against the turbulent events of his own lifetime, Bulgakov’s convictions about the church’s ministry in the public square hold fresh relevance. Just as a general strike forced the Russian Imperial government to offer limited civil and political concessions in 1905, Bulgakov published an essay entitled “An Urgent Task” [Russian: “Neotlozhnaia zadacha”], his critique of the Empire’s predicament.1 Russia’s alliance of autocracy and Orthodoxy disgraced the faith, he wrote, and made it complicit in criminal administrative measures and censorship. Bulgakov charged “official ‘Orthodoxy’” with being “a direct police instrument”—astonishing defiance from someone whose forefathers had served in the ranks of the Russian Orthodox Church since the reign of Ivan the Terrible. At the same time, Bulgakov pressed Orthodox hierarchs and government officials—stubbornly resistant to change—to pursue the task of securing religious liberty and developing socially minded educational programs. 

For the Russian Empire of 1905, religious liberty was a relatively new and radical notion, while greeted with enthusiasm by indigenous religious minorities such as the Old Believers. Despite the intervening period of official atheism, today’s Russia sustains considerable religious diversity. Recent surveys by the Moscow-based Levada Center and the Russian Public Opinion Research Center affirm that religious belief has increased sharply since the Soviet collapse. The Levada Center notes a trajectory from 31 percent in December 1989 to a peak of 88 percent in February 2017, with 80 percent in April 2022. Notably, the percentage of “very religious” has doubled to nine percent since 2014. Yet church attendance and formal affiliation have declined, especially over the past two years, with some 43 percent of respondents stating in April 2022 that they do not attend religious services. (The impact of COVID-19 is not explicitly factored here.) 

All told, religious identification within the Russian Federation is currently at 71 percent Orthodox, five percent Muslim, four percent “other” (including Catholic, Protestant, and Buddhist), and four percent atheist (a further 15 percent responded “none”). The nature of belief appears varied. Around half of respondents believe in life after death and religious miracles; a similar number believe in the “evil eye” or spells. Data from 2021 also point to an aging Orthodox community, with 75 percent older than 60 identifying as such, but only 43 percent in the 18-24 cohort. While Protestant affiliation is weighted towards this youngest age group (two percent), so too is the proportion of non-believers (22 percent).2 

Surveying the wider former Soviet expanse, the World Christian Database finds only modest change over the past decade. Reportedly, Orthodoxy has grown by 0.18 percent and Protestantism by 2.84 percent, while Catholicism has declined by 0.35 percent, even in Catholic strongholds such as Lithuania. Growth of Pentecostal communities is consistent across the former Soviet territory, however, notably in Armenia, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan.3 

The malignant legacy of the watchful state continued throughout the Soviet era, and genuine religious liberty still faces stiff headwinds in much of the ex-Soviet space. Deference to an increasingly authoritarian Russian state is mainstream within not only the Moscow Patriarchate but also Protestantism. The Evangelical Christian-Baptist Church of Russia affirmed robust support for Putin and his policies in Ukraine back in May 2014, for example, and personal conversations with Russian Evangelicals have revealed admiration for their president as a “spiritual giant” appointed for this hour in their nation’s revival.4 

For helpful regional perspective on the contours of church growth in the uncertainties of the current context, I have turned to four veterans of Evangelical ministry in the former Soviet bloc who, like Fr. Bulgakov, have closely experienced times of promise and peril. They are: Olga Lukhmanova, professor of English at the Linguistic University of Nizhny Novgorod; Greg Nichols, North Region Leader with Greater Europe Mission, based in Prague; Steve Van Zanen, chair of theology at LCC International University, Klaipeda, Lithuania, as well as European region leader for Resonate Global Mission (Christian Reformed Church in North America); and “Kolya,” the regional coordinator for a ministry in Central Asia (whose country I have anonymized as “*stan”). While offered before Russia’s 24 February invasion of Ukraine, their responses capture the diverse challenges of ministry across the former Soviet bloc, as its expanse continues to be affected by the centrifugal forces accompanying its demise. 

• Olga: In 1993 one could ask to teach a Bible class in a local school or have Christian student meetings on university premises. Around 1997, as Russia’s Law on Freedom of Conscience and Religious Associations was adopted, things started to change. We are still free to gather, rent, or own buildings, and worship openly in public spaces, and the heads of Christian denominations are part of the President’s Council [for Cooperation with Religious Associations]. But the [2016 so-called Yarovaya] Law is worrisome, and we have heard about churches being sued and even closed for “violating” that law. At least one local church in my city was sued because an African student reposted an invitation to a church event on her social media page. It was classified as “unlawful religious practice,” and the student was kicked out of the country. This is just another instance of Russian laws being used to mean whatever is expedient. The law… can be used to close any church or para-church organization at any moment. …[T]here is a definite slant towards a strengthening authoritarianism and ideological conformity at all levels of society. 
• Greg: If [Ukraine’s political and economic] ties to Russia wane, we could see an increased popularity of Evangelicalism [in Ukraine]. If they strengthen, we could see an increased popularity of Orthodoxy. The huge change is that Ukraine is a sending country now: In the Czech Republic, Russian and Ukrainian immigrants are doing church planting... The [Czech] national churches do not seem interested to work with refugees more than contributing a small amount of money. 
• Steve: For Protestants in Lithuania, freedom and independence led to an initial period of dramatic growth that did not last long. Getting into NATO—and even more the EU—created opportunities for Lithuanians that were previously unimaginable, and many of them emigrated to find more lucrative work in Western Europe. Some of them have returned after establishing some financial security, but lots have settled down in the West. Many churches have shrunk quite significantly since our first period in Lithuania [1999-2003]. One group I know of went from 50 to 500, then back down to 100. Those who suffered and struggled in Soviet times often find the lack of full commitment on the part of today’s believers discouraging. I see congregations as relatively fragile, with a leader’s misbehavior often leading to dissolution of the congregation.
• “Kolya”: In *stan, the conditions for Christian communities have changed mostly from worse to better. Unlike churches in the surrounding countries, who continually experience opposition [and] oppression from government institutions, we have enjoyed relative freedom of religion and thought. There is almost no interaction between the Orthodox and Protestants, despite the government’s ongoing efforts to consolidate these two large groups. The better to control, I might add. Bulgakov believed this kind of interference was best met by collective action—for him an important corollary of religious liberty. Since the aim was a free church in a free state, he wrote in “An Urgent Task,” there should be “no distinctions among nationalities, religions, or denominations.” 

My other three panelists report a mixed picture in this respect: 

• Olga: The relationship between the Orthodox and Protestants remains cool, distant, and full of distrust. My very sweet Orthodox neighbor who used to come for help (even in understanding the Slavonic liturgy) grew very distant and cold once she found out I attended [and help lead] a “heretic” church [Vineyard]. There are individuals and communities that are different: An Orthodox priest here in town has been a friend and co-worker and the [Orthodox] Transfiguration Brotherhood actively seeks healthy ecumenical connections. [Yet] they have to hide their friendship with Protestants because the official line remains rigidly anti-Protestant. Evangelicals… have all sorts of false images of Orthodox believers and their faith, but are… slightly more familiar with Orthodox authors (for example, Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh [1914-2003], [Fr.] Alexander Men’ [1935-1990] or [Fr.] Alexander Schmemann [1921-1983]) than an average Orthodox believer would be of Evangelical authors. There is definitely more Biblical knowledge in the Evangelical churches and less nominal Christianity.
• Greg: Younger pastors are not as willing to keep strong lines of separation between Union [of Evangelical Christians-Baptists’] churches and Pentecostal or independent churches. Most Ukrainians that I talk with are strongly anti-Russian. They tell stories of the frontlines and feel Russia has invaded Ukraine. I have talked with many who have divided families with relatives in Russia. Some of them no longer wish to speak with each other, despite the fact that they are all believers. In the Czech Republic, denominations seem stuck—especially the Baptists—but they are trying to plant new churches and have some successes. The Evangelical Alliance here cooperates very deeply with the M4 leadership and methodology [a Norwegian Evangelical initiative]. The Catholic Church has very few Czech priests and relies on Poland and other countries to supply them. 
• Steve: Here [in Lithuania] the biggest interconfessional issues are Protestant-Catholic, since Catholicism is dominant. From my perspective, the relationship is surprisingly good: One of our students was recently baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church, and I was surprised that her priest was positive about her getting a degree in Evangelical theology. 

Nothing pained Bulgakov more about the Church than social ignorance and isolation. In “An Urgent Task,” he recounts cringing when hearing senior prelates mechanically mouth “charity” as the answer to deep structural problems while social and political crises spread rapidly throughout the Russian Empire. Inspired by his own experience in seminary and associations within the Russian intelligentsia, he began 

How to participate in the life of our country, which is in constant turmoil and [undergoing] reform [that is] often thoughtless and bureaucracy-driven? Whether to accept or to protest what is going on, and, if protest, how? My country has been in turmoil for the last 30 years, and it is not about to change. At some point, President Putin will have to go—even if just because of age—and what happens then is anyone’s guess. 

Over the last few years I have become more engaged in contemplative prayer… with the fathers and old masters of the Church (the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola). I hope the movement towards reclaiming Christian heritage and the riches of the Church will remain and strengthen.

• Greg: If compassion ministries in Ukraine are transparent with their financial records, they will win the hearts of the people. But for this culture that is an uphill battle. I [also] wonder if Ukraine can fast-forward through the megachurch disillusionment. I suspect not, so I think we will see the rise and disastrous fall of some large churches. I think the younger generation want smaller and authentic [churches and relationships]. We may see women pastors of Evangelical churches (but probably not). In the Czech Republic, the church will have to discover relevance in a society that seems to have all its needs met… [and] prove it is the place to find the unspoken need of worship and fellowship. Based upon what I currently see, refugees will be rejected by the Czech-led churches, and we will see more vibrant churches comprised of nonCzechs. What will that do to society in general? It could make people curious, or it could relegate Christianity to the “lesser” educated.
• Steve: The priority for economic advancement continues to lead young Lithuanians—Christian and otherwise—towards emigration. It also pulls those who do not emigrate away from committed church involvement. One of the biggest questions for me is the net effect of Brexit. Will we see fewer leaving [Lithuania] and more returning? Lithuanians want to be integrated into Europe but retain their distinctiveness as a more socially conservative society. Will that continue or shift as younger people, without memory of the struggle against the Soviets, take leadership? 
•  “Kolya”: The recent growing Islamization of society, ongoing political instability, the effects of the pandemic, and economic problems have the most impact upon how the church is developing in *stan. In some ways, these trends pose many new opportunities to enhance the witness of the church, but in other ways these also have a limiting effect on the church’s growth. The issues of interethnic conflict and tension—sometimes related to border disputes—affect the unity of the church. Other key issues include increasing authoritarianism, which directly affects freedom of religion and restrictions for Christians and other religious minorities; economic and political instabilities due to ineffective leadership; and increasing digitalization of various aspects of social life. Notes: 

Recovery of a richer Christian heritage and sustaining commitment amid increasing authoritarianism, ideological conformity, mass migration, inter-ethnic conflict, and now a major war in Ukraine. This is a heady mix to be facing 30 years after the collapse of the Soviet system. If Bulgakov is right, being faithful in our generation still means staying on task by defending religious liberty and developing coalitions dedicated to holistic education and ministry—albeit with new wineskins. If there is a key message for us from Bulgakov’s eventful vitae, it is not simply to keep moving, but to move on.

Notes:

1. [In Russian] Voprosy zhizni, vol. 9 (September 1905), 332- 360. An English translation may be found in the anthology A Revolution of the Spirit: Crisis of Value in Russia 1890-1924, New York: Fordham University Press, 1990.
2. “Religiosity,” Levada Center, 18 May 2022,https://www.levada.ru/en/2022/05/18/religiosity/; [in Russian] “Velikii post—2021,” VTsIOM, 15 March 2021, https://wciom.ru/analytical-reviews/analiticheskii-obzor/velikii-post-2021. 
3. Todd M. Johnson and Gina A. Zurlo, eds., Christianity by Major Tradition and Movements in the Former Soviet Union Since 2010, Leiden/Boston: Brill, September 2021.
4. Mark R. Elliott, “The Russian Christian Take on Putin and Ukraine,” Occasional Papers on Religion in Eastern Europe, vol. 35, no. 2 (Article 8): 49. See also Kate Shellnutt, “Why Russian Protestants Voted for President Putin,” Christianity Today, 21 March 2018, https://www.christianitytoday.com/news/2018/march/russia-protestants-president-putin-election.html. 
5.  “Putin’s Religious War,” Beyond Belief, BBC Radio 4, 4 April 2022,https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m00162mp.

Scott Lingenfelter teaches Russian and European history at Grand Valley State University in Grand Rapids, Michigan.