Skip Navigation

A Lesson on Giving: Toast and Ketchup

By Scott Carter

Scott Carter, who serves in Ukraine, made a recent trip to Perm, Russia, to teach a course for the Church Ministries Institute, ABWE's leadership training program for the Russian-speaking world. While he was there Scott met Pasha, a special servant for the Lord, in a remote village four hours outside of Perm. Scott tells the story this way:

"I'm a nobody. Not one notices me. I'm not important."

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, no one was stirring, not even a mouse. Okay, so it's actually several days before Christmas. It's 3 AM , and I'm in Perm, Russia, in the middle of a course I'm teaching here. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get this in writing while it's fresh and still percolating.

Christmas is just around the corner, when we remember the birth of Jesus, the One who would save His people from their sins, the Wonderful Counselor...the Mighty God...the Everlasting Father... the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6). There's some awesome truth in those names. Of course, there are many, many other names in the Bible - some are well-known, but most are not. How about Shealtiel, Azor, Akim, or Matthan? They're not exactly household names.

But you know what? You can find all these names in Matthew 1, in the genealogy of Jesus. They're all real people, and all were links in the chain leading to the birth of the Messiah. Do you know the Bible is full of Shealtiels, Azors, Akims and Matthans? Oh, the names change, but the constant is the seemingly unknown quality to their lives. "I'm a nobody. No one notices me. I'm not important." Ever felt like that? If so, you're in good company. For every Peter and Paul, there are thousands of Shealtiels and Azors, living life in seeming obscurity.

But they're really not no-names, because God knows, and He remembers - every one of them. That's' why they're in the Bible. You see, in the final analysis, it really doesn't matter if 'history' remembers you or not. It matters a great deal if God does, because He's the Author of history, and He writes the final chapter, for both world history, and your own personal history.

Nothing Special in His Background

Let me tell you about one of history's faceless names, or at least someone who is currently faceless. His name is Pasha, the short form of Pavel, the Russian version of Paul. But Pavels are a dime a dozen in Russia, or should I say a ruble a dozen?

There's not much hint of anything special in his background to note. He grew up with his mother and sister in a village that is remote even by Russian standards (boys without fathers in Russian villages are also a ruble a dozen). When he was a little older, he moved to the 'big' city of Solikamsk, with about 100,000 people. He was skinny and not particularly athletic, and he wore glasses - a classic target for every bully around. On top of that, Pasha had a kidney problem, which constantly dogged him and landed him periodically in the hospital.

But then a funny thing happened to this skinny, awkward, sick kid with glasses and no father - at the age of 13, he got saved. Exit the nameless face in a crowd, enter a vessel fit for and fitted by the Master.

Pasha began devouring Scripture. He also began serving and witnessing in any way possible. He'd take Christian books to school to read between (or during) classes. He had a razor-sharp mind, which he began training for God's purposes. At 14, he began preaching in his church. He'd take trips to villages, filling a bag with tracts, handing them out and talking with anyone and everyone of His Savior. He was fearless, taking on atheists, drunks, dour Russian Orthodox priests, disillusioned youths, the intelligentsia - you name it, he witnessed to them.

A Passion for Ministry

At 16, Pasha was off to St Petersburg to study. At his first meeting with the rector of the school, he was asked what he wanted to do after graduation. "Why, become a pastor, of course." It was so simple. The rector looked askance at him. He was not used to such clarity of purpose from one so young. Two years later, at 18, Pasha was president of the student council. He excelled in languages, and especially loved the New Testament. But even more than the New Testament, he loved the Jesus of the New Testament. And he was ready to do whatever Jesus asked of him. Although he loved studying, he couldn't wait to go back home to far away Solikamsk, to share his faith with others. He returned home after his studies were completed and immediately immersed himself in ministry.

There was good news and not-so-good news. His church was an old church, founded by ethnic Germans, the majority of whom had long since emigrated to Germany . The church once had almost 300 members. Now it had 60, more than half of them over 50 years old, in a country where the life expectancy for a male is 59 years. In the last year Pasha has performed about 60 funerals. And that was the good news.

To say that the Solikamsk region is hardly a hotbed of evangelical fervor might be the understatement of the year. Rather, it is a hotbed of criminals, with a number of prisons in the vicinity (Lisa's father was once imprisoned for his faith not far from there), Russian Orthodox fervency (Pasha had tent meetings broken up by police at the insistence of Russian Orthodox priests last summer), witchcraft (shamanism originated not far from here), and atheism, as many in this region still claim allegiance to the belief that there is no God, all seasoned with a hearty dose of alcoholism, the bane of almost every area in Russia. Add it all up and you realize it doesn't get much darker spiritually than Solikamsk.

So there you have it, your worst ministry nightmare. But Pasha dived in headfirst, relishing the opportunity to hone his evangelistic and apologetic skills. He loved the in-your-face mentality of most of the people there. I met Pasha several times previously, but last weekend was my first time to see him on his turf. I came away with several distinct impressions:

Consumed with God

One, this is a young man (now 22) consumed with God. There's no other way to describe him. No, he's not dark and foreboding. He laughs a lot - mostly at those who try to oppose the gospel. He's been denied entrance to many schools to share Bible lessons with students - but he goes back anyway.

He's been warned by religious clerics to stay away from young people - but he has a steady stream of them in his apartment, desperately seeking answers to life's dilemmas. He recently witnessed to a group of Russian mafia thugs, who basically wanted him to shut his mouth. They tried to threaten him. He laughed. "You guys should be afraid," Pasha told them. "You never know who's after you, or what he's packing. You don't have God. I do. I feel sorry for you." (Pasha was bubbling over about that meeting, because he'd just prayed that God would allow him to witness to these particular guys, then several days later he ended up in the hospital because of his kidney problems, and in the bed next to him was the leader of this gang.)

A Scrumptious Meal of Toast and Ketchup

Two, this is a person who gives and gives, and then wonders what the big deal is to everyone else. In the 24-hour period I was there, at least 6 people dropped by, all unannounced. They were all treated like royalty, like the most important people on the planet. A number of other people called. One call, at 12:30 AM, was from a young girl saved just one month, who was almost hysterical because her father threatened to beat her and do even worse to Pasha if she ever went near another Christian youth meeting again. Pasha spent about 20 minutes calming her down over the phone (and the next day she stopped by a youth meeting anyway).

At about 11:30 PM there was a knock on Pasha's door, and in came a believer who needed a place to stay for the night. "Sure, no problem," was the answer. Pasha slept on the floor that night, after serving his guest a scrumptious meal of toast and ketchup, all he had in the house.

Friends, this is raw ministry - not sanitized and housebroken. Don't try this at home unless you're ready for a walk on the wild side. But then again, that's when true ministry begins, when you get the perfume out of the bottle. Real ministry is messy. Did you ever wonder what Mary offered her guests? You know, those rough shepherds who came to a smelly manger, to see a baby who was conceived out of wedlock? It's really quite scandalous.

A Glimpse of Heaven

Friends, in case it doesn't come through in this message, I was blessed out of my socks by my time with Pasha. I got a glimpse of heaven. Oh yeah, I preached and shared and did my thing, and some even said it was a blessing, but don't kid yourself. I have no illusions about who got the better end of the deal this weekend. It was me, hands down.

When I left for this trip I was not feeling like ministering, unless you call crawling-under-a-blanket-for-about-a-week-and-not-seeing-a-human-face ministry. I was tired and spent, having burned the candle at both ends recently. I even tried to beg off the trip to Solikamsk. Dumb, dumb move, Scott. Thankfully, the plans had already been made by others, and I couldn't back out.

And now I have a slightly better handle on the essence of Christmas, and the essence of heaven. I wonder how many 'Pashas' there are out there, and how many there'll be in heaven? I know one thing. One day it'll all become clear.

In the meantime, remember that God still loves to surprise us, and uses those willing to part with their last toast and ketchup. It is an awesome privilege to partner in building His kingdom with people like Pasha. I don't deserve this. That's what grace is all about. That's what Christmas is all about

Oh the wonder of it all,

Scott, Lisa, Christy, Ethan, and Ashlea