Vasily Shilyuk. Facets of life and death

· Argentina, Vasily Shilyuk, Persecution, Latvia, Nakhodka, On Emigration, Vestibule, Pentecostals, Rivne, USSR, Tallinn

A warm Volhynian summer adorned the streets. A light breeze cooled the rays of the midday sun. Pushkin Street, where the OVIR (Visa and Registration Department) building was located, ended at Lenin Street, on the other side of which began Taras Shevchenko Park. The main entrance to the park stood directly opposite Pushkin Street. From the city center, from the central post office, buses slowly crawled uphill. On the left side of the park along Lenin Street stood the four-story building of the Institute of Water Management. And on the rear wall of that building, facing the park, a slogan with blood-red letters had been nailed across nearly the entire wall with long nails:
“THE PARTY IS THE MIND, HONOR, AND CONSCIENCE OF OUR EPOCH!”
“Indeed, they have not only robbed people materially, but also taken away spiritual qualities — both honor and conscience.”
Choosing a convenient moment, I crossed the street and stepped into the coolness of the park. Benches for rest were located nearby. Passing the first ones that stood right at the park entrance, I sat down to relax, collect my thoughts, and analyze everything that had happened and that I had heard. And suddenly, for some reason, I recalled the recent water baptism in the village of Zbuzh.

Because of the sudden wave of emigration that had descended upon the Soviet system, the authorities had loosened the reins — they had reduced the level of persecution, and churches dared to conduct baptisms in the river on Sundays. For this, it was only necessary to notify the local authorities, and the local authorities had already received instructions from above: “Do not touch the Stundists!” An instruction from above — law on the ground. It had become possible to baptize believers not at night, as had often been the case, but during the day, in plain sight of everyone.

Together with my family, we decided to go to such a celebration in the village of Zbuzh, in the Kostopil district. The morning of that Sunday was wonderful — warm and sunny. The Horyn River flowed not far from the prayer house. The church in Zbuzh had been formed in the 1930s and was well known not only in the Rivne region but also in neighboring regions. Guests from other churches came to the celebration of the Zbuzh church. Brothers arrived from the city of Lutsk: Volodymyr Rykhliuk, Stepan Veremchuk, Petro Izvuk, and others. The Lutsk brothers were considered the most authoritative in the brotherhood of Western Ukraine: Volodia Rykhliuk had served five years for illegal meetings. He was a strong and brave organizer, an exemplary and sensitive presbyter of the Lutsk church. Petro Izvuk, after serving his time, had endured an additional term of exile in the Khabarovsk Territory. All the brothers in Western Ukraine listened to their opinion, valued them, and their advice was always taken seriously and with authority.

After the service at the river, the whole procession slowly moved toward the prayer house. The service in the building was to begin at noon, but the people returned from the river a little earlier. Near the prayer house, groups of people formed, waiting for the leading brothers and those who had been baptized. Most people surrounded the brothers from Lutsk: Volodia Rykhliuk, Stepan Veremchuk, Petro Izvuk.

“Brothers, do you already have this delusion? Has it reached you yet?” asked one of the brothers.
It was clear without explanation what this was about, what delusion was being referred to in the question that was troubling those around.
People grew quiet, waiting for an answer to a question that interested many, both those who had submitted applications and those who had not. In the circle of people gathered around the Lutsk brothers, there were both. I was there too. Many of those present knew that I defended the opinion of those who had decided to seek the right to emigrate before the Soviet authorities.

“What delusion?” brother Volodia answered a question with a question, interest in his voice.
“Well, it’s more correct to say it’s a deception, not a delusion,” someone corrected. “We can call delusions those phenomena where some teaching is introduced, but here there is no new teaching. The word ‘deception’ is more appropriate here.”
“What’s the matter, brothers, what delusion or deception has occurred among you?”
“Haven’t you heard that many among us are applying to emigrate? They’ve taken a fancy to go to America. They want freedoms. American freedoms. The Lord commanded everyone that through many tribulations we must enter the Kingdom of God, but they, you see, want to freely confess their faith. That’s what they write in their emigration applications — that they want to freely confess their faith. Give them freedom. And where is it written that one should go to God’s Kingdom by a free and easy path?
Only to hell can one go by a free and easy path. And those who are applying to emigrate have also desired to go to the Kingdom of God by an easy path. That is not from God. No, no! And because of this, there is turmoil in the churches. Some say that this has come from the Lord, that there was a command to apply for emigration from the Holy Spirit. Others hinder, claiming that all this is a lie, that there cannot be any such utterance from the Lord, that it is all charlatanism, very profitable for someone. Enmity has broken out in the churches, one against another. And if from such a phenomenon people start to become enemies, then one can boldly say that this is not from the Lord, but from …”
“Don’t call those who have fallen under this deception so harshly,” a voice from the crowd stopped the brother who was ready to stone those who had written the application. “Let the guest brothers tell us their opinion about what has happened. And even if they haven’t encountered this phenomenon, they have certainly heard about it. So let them say what they think about all this.”
“Of course, all this is very unpleasant for the churches, and we have the right to condemn it as a deception that has come into our churches, which must be fought, for which those who engage in it must be punished. They must be excommunicated from the church, so that they do not sow discord among the churches,” another one responded while the guests hesitated with an answer.

“What will you say to us, brothers? After all, in a day or two it will come to you, to your church — be ready for this.”
The brothers from Lutsk remained silent and attentively looked at those around them. An unpleasant silence fell. I stood among these people and recalled an incident from the Holy Scriptures, when the scribes and Pharisees brought a woman caught in the sin of adultery. Knowing the Law, they were confident that Christ would confirm their decision — for there was no other way out. He could not break the Law given by God for Israel. They, the scribes and Pharisees, zealots of the Law, simply wanted to fulfill it, but it was necessary that their decision be confirmed by the Teacher, to whom the people clung. They needed, before these people who loved Him, who surrounded Christ at that moment as well, to somehow compromise the Teacher.
Would He defend the sin or condemn it?..
Would He hand the sinful woman over to death, or go against the Law?.. They needed to condemn this woman through the mouth of Jesus and stain His reputation with cruelty toward the people.
And if He did not condemn? If He forgave her, as He had done more than once before, forgiving the sins of sinful people? Then it would be possible to further convict Him of breaking Moses’ Law.
But Christ remained silent in response to all their entreaties. Simply silent, not answering, attaching no importance to what had happened. He was absolutely calm and, paying no attention to anyone, wrote with His finger on the sand. And the scribes annoyed Him, and the Pharisees could not quiet down. “Well, say something, well, condemn this sinner! Why are you silent? Yes, condemn!.. Condemn her!”
Probably, the palms of some scribes and Pharisees standing in the crowd were sweaty from the stone tightly clutched in their hands. Oh, they could not bear it.
But Christ was silent…

Now the attention of the people near the prayer house was directed toward the brothers, the leading brothers of the Pentecostals. The people, waiting, looked at them and, glancing furtively, out of the corners of their eyes, glanced in my direction, toward those who were stained with the sin of emigration. Many of them knew that here, in this very group of people, stood those deceived by the sin of emigration, and not only deceived but also leading others, weak in faith, into this sin. Here they were, to be condemned through the mouths of the leading brothers, and publicly, so that they would know what they had gotten into with their emigration, so that they would know that the brothers had condemned this phenomenon as a sin. Perhaps then they would repent.
And in the silence that had formed, it seemed that words of wrath and indignation were about to burst from their lips: “Why are you silent, brothers? Condemn them, at last, these foolish, Satan-deceived, deluded people! They deserve it! They have earned being condemned for all the confusion they have sown in the churches. Condemn them! Well, condemn them!”

The silence was oppressive, depressing, probably just like that time with that woman in the crowd. The brothers did not rush to express their judgments about emigration. From their faces, it could be read that they wished that this question would pass them by, that they would not have to give any answer here, among people they did not know. Today they would give their opinion here, and tomorrow it could be heard in that “place” they did not want to end up in.
But this could not go on for long. Something had to be said, some answer given.
At that moment, I understood the state of the man sick with leprosy who resolutely walked through the crowd toward Christ. When they saw him, many then began to shout furiously: “A leper in the crowd! A leper in the crowd!”
Perhaps only very little time had passed since he had given some of them a piece of bread, lent money — and perhaps, quite possibly, given it without expecting repayment — shared his clothes and shelter with someone. After the leprosy, he lost everything. And the crowd, in which there were probably those who knew him, those he had helped in a moment of calamity, now recoiled from him, loudly shouting: “He is a leper! He is a leper!..”
Here, in the crowd of holy people, in the crowd of my brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus, I understood the full meaning and full significance of the word “leper.” I felt it on myself with every cell of my body and every string of my soul. This disease, this leprosy, had a new name, a modern, new name. The name of this leprosy was EMIGRATION. And I was completely covered with the leprosy of this sin, body and soul. Such people, as demanded by those standing in this crowd, must be excommunicated from the church, like the lepers of that time from the camp of Israel. Such people must be outside the camp, and now — outside the church, must, according to the opinion of these my brothers and sisters, be cast out of the church.

“Friends,” brother Volodia spoke first, “emigration is not a delusion and not a deception; it is a personal matter for each person or each Christian, and this matter is not a church matter. And if someone has decided to leave, may the Lord bless him. To hinder him in his decision may possibly be a violation of God’s will, because we lose peace in our hearts because of someone else’s decision and contribute to the appearance of bitterness in those who decided to do this. How many of our brothers and sisters have gone to the Baltic region?
But no one condemned them for it. They live there peacefully, attend services, and serve God just as they served here, living with us.”
“Brother Volodia, brother Volodia,” several voices from the crowd called out at once, not letting him finish his thought. “The Baltic region is a completely different matter, yes, yes, that is completely different. To the Baltic region people, or our brothers and sisters, go without recruiting anyone, but here…”
“Yes, yes,” came a voice from the crowd again with strong irritation, perhaps his relatives had also gone to Estonia or Latvia. “To the Baltic region, no one recruits anyone…”
“So, but not quite so. Let’s be honest with everyone — many also go to the Baltic region by revelation,” someone wished to pour oil on the fire for those who had sent their children to Estonia and Latvia as well. “For the relatives of those who went to the Baltic region also claim that there was such a revelation from God for their children. That they went there, excuse me, not for a better life, but because it was so said by the Holy Spirit that they should labor for the Lord there, precisely in the Baltic region. That is also cunning both before people and before God. What labor for God among a foreign people, if they never labored among their own people. All of that is a lie and cunning, covered with the name of God,” the brother, seizing the moment, poured out his anger or bitterness on the relatives of those who had already gone to the Baltic region.

“Brothers, have you not heard where this delusion came from?” another know-it-all brother in the circle spoke, diverting the fire from the “Baltic-goers,” saving them from the wrath of people who were already ready to condemn those who left for a better life in Estonia and Latvia. “Why, this calamity came to us from Nakhodka! Yes, yes, from Nakhodka!”
“And where is this Nakhodka? Far from here or not, that this emigration has flown to us so quickly? Is it beyond Moscow or closer?”
“Did you not study at school where Nakhodka is? Evidently you studied poorly, that’s why you don’t know,” a young brother from the crowd tossed in remarks. “This Nakhodka is at the very edge of the world, near Japan; you can’t walk there on foot.”
“And how could this emigration race so quickly to Ukraine? That’s thousands of kilometers!”
“Our brothers had already gone there to investigate, and they found out everything in detail,” the know-it-all brother again poured oil on the growing fire. “All these false, spiritual revelations have their roots in Nakhodka. There was already such a deception there once. By a false prediction, many of weak faith gathered there, falling for that hook.”
“Not of weak faith, but of little faith,” corrected a voice from the crowd.
“Fine, fine — let it be of little faith. What’s the difference? But the word ‘weak faith’ suits them better,” the know-it-all brother insisted. “They claimed that God had told them by the Holy Spirit to go there, and from there white ships would take them and carry them out of the Soviet Union.
They waited a long time for those little white ships, but they never came for them,” and the know-it-all brother burst into a staccato laugh. He quieted down.
Everyone felt awkward at what they had heard, and most of all at the inappropriate laughter. Taking advantage of the ensuing silence, the brother finished his clever speech:
“Probably now those who submitted applications will again start traveling to Nakhodka and there wait for the white ships that will carry them far, far away from there!”
He chuckled again and stepped aside. At such news, others also began to smile, understanding what the brother meant by “far, far away.”

An argument flared up in the circle of people that no one needed. Mockery began against those who had applied for emigration. All this needed to be extinguished, especially now, as the Lord’s Supper service was approaching. Passions were heating up. Everyone blamed each other over revelations about leaving. The fire had to be put out before it caused trouble, before it sowed enmity among those gathered here near the prayer house.

(A long time later, after more than twenty years, I would have to meet many of those standing in this crowd again, already in America. They would smile and demonstrate in America how they had struggled for emigration in their time, how they, without sparing themselves, at the risk of their lives, had sought exit for themselves and for other brothers and sisters. And they would not even blink at the lie they would invent, already living in America. Not a trace of redness or shame would appear on their faces. And many would listen to them. And believe them. And pass on this lie about the deeds of these “brothers,” whose memory is so short that they forgot, or would pretend to have forgotten, all that they actually did, and would present as truth what they never did, but wished to associate themselves with such a good deed, already living in America. But all that would come later, after more than twenty years, but now…)

“Brothers,” Petro Izvuk spoke up, “there is no need to laugh, and no need to blame one another either. Both sides have grounds for reproach when citing God’s revelations.” Brother Petro paused a little until absolute silence settled.
“Brothers,” he began again, very seriously, “I have already lived through one emigration, yes — yes. It was at the end of the 1930s. God revealed then through the Holy Spirit that great grief was coming upon this land, a terrible calamity, from which one could hide only in another country, that is, one had to emigrate. Those who understood that this prophecy was from God sold their lands, their estates, in order to save up money for a ticket, to leave for Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay. At that time, emigration to these countries had just opened. But one had to pass a medical commission confirming that the person was completely healthy. One had to gather a lot of money for the ticket, which was very expensive. And not everyone who wished to emigrate could afford such a price.
Others bought up these lands and estates and laughed, loudly laughed, at the foolish people who, for the sake of a ticket for a ship — they were not white, these ships — sold both land and estates.
“But,” brother Petro fell silent, and everyone was silent, holding their breath, “when he spoke again, notes of regret, compassion, and bitterness sounded in his voice. ‘But not much time passed, and everything, absolutely everything changed. Poland, which ruled here, was gone. The Soviet government came. And a little later — the war began. I do not know whether those who left for Argentina, Brazil, and other countries wept or laughed — I do not know… But those who had laughed at those leaving, who bought their houses and lands, no longer laughed. They wept — they wept very hard. But that is not all! Many of them and their families are no longer alive, though they were my peers, and some a little older than me. Well, as for the bought-up lands — you yourselves know what happened next; let’s not talk about it. And I do not advise you, brothers, to laugh at this, not at all. I will tell you this: do you know what is written in the Acts of the Apostles? It is written there: “If this work is not from the Lord, it will not stand.” So it is written, and so this matter, if not from the Lord, will collapse, it will be scattered, and the brothers who applied for emigration will understand what extremity they have fallen into, will come to their senses, repent, and will continue to be our good friends. And if, my dear ones, this matter is from the Lord, then fear, and do not laugh, lest you become opponents of God. I do not advise you to laugh at this. Better to pray for them, for those who submitted applications, and for this matter, so that God may accomplish His work over all of this.’

After such an answer, it became very quiet, as if someone had poured a good bucket of cold water on everyone’s heads. The leading brothers went into the prayer house, and I remained outside the building and thanked God that through the mouth of brother Petro Izvuk, He had given such a wise answer, which humiliated no one and grieved no one.

Already then, a thought was spinning in my head: “Who managed to go to Nakhodka, find out everything, and bring back news of the white ships to Ukraine?”
After all, Nakhodka is a closed city. To get there, one must present a permit from the relevant Soviet authorities for entry into that city at all ticket offices to purchase travel documents. Otherwise, no tickets for train or plane will be given. And without such documents for entry or residence, the KGB, with the help of its secret informant-collaborators, would instantly catch those who entered Nakhodka arbitrarily or illegally, and also hand out a nice bonus that would be remembered for many years.

“Could it be,” the thought flashed for the first time in my head as I sat on that bench, “that the interests of the authorities and the interests of those who so fiercely fight against emigration among believers coincide? Or are they fighting zealously, as they say, ‘in the line of duty’?..”
“Time will tell…” I got up from the bench and slowly walked through the park toward my relatives — where my wife and children were waiting for me.

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