Bouman March 2022 Prayer Letter

“All are welcome” 

 March 12, 2022 

 Dear Esther and Emmanuela, 

 You will probably never read this letter. Even if you do someday, I can’t imagine that you will remember me. We only spent part of one day together, and it was during a time of huge upheaval in your life. You were, for the moment, at St. Columba’s Scottish Mission in Budapest, after your family fled from Kharkiv, Ukraine because of the Russian military invasion. I had come to the church to help receive guests arriving from Ukraine. I didn’t know exactly what I would be doing there. Even though I wanted to help, I am still somewhat of a newcomer in Hungary myself, and I still have many questions about how to do things and get things done. But when you arrived at the church, Emmanuela, it wasn’t long before you took my hand and let me know that you wanted a tour of the building. And it wasn’t long before I realized that I knew what 5-year-olds like to do, and 7-year-olds, too, Esther. And so, while your parents took care of other things, we colored and imagined, played Find the Doggie, made a swimming pool out of a plastic lid and some sequins (those sequins could be so many things!), and as many things as we could think up to do. I eventually left the church before you did, and when I came back that evening, your family had already moved on to a place more suitable for all of you. I know this time must be so hard for all of you. Your journey to Budapest must have been long and probably scary some of the time. I don’t know how much longer your journey will last or where it will end. Maybe you will go to Nigeria, where your parents came from; maybe you will go somewhere else. But wherever you go, I hope there will always be people who see what I saw when I looked at you: two young, smart, strong humans holding a very fragile item in your hands. If they look closely, they will see that what you are holding is labeled “The Future”. And I hope they will treat you with all the respect and gentleness that our future requires. 

 With love and prayers for peace, 

Julie 

Friends, it has been a very difficult, and a very rewarding couple of weeks. A geopolitical crisis we did not anticipate has exploded in Ukraine, a country next door to Hungary. In the course of the past two weeks, the largest displacement of people internal to Europe since WWII has taken place, with more than two hundred thousand people streaming into Hungary from Ukraine to date. These people on the move are not all the same – they comprise ethnic Ukrainians, many ethnic Hungarians living in Ukraine, Hungarian Roma people who live in Ukraine, as well as thousands and thousands of international students who were studying in cities like Kharkiv before the bombardment began.

The letter Julie has written above, to two little Nigerian-Ukrainian sisters who were among the first to come through a very makeshift shelter our church has set up in Budapest, demonstrates some of the human tragedy that is unfolding. It would take too long to tell very many of the stories that have made up our lives these past two weeks, but a summary is that after nine nights and about 80 guests in our church, we have temporarily halted operations because of several positive Covid cases among our guests and volunteers. We hope to reopen in the middle of next week, and meanwhile we have disinfected the church, and a proposal has been developed that focuses our efforts. 

Because our church is one of only a few English-speaking congregations in Budapest, we have focused on English-speaking people fleeing Ukraine, which has meant serving mainly African, almost all Nigerian students who had been in university, or medical school until three weeks ago. We have written previously about our weekly fellowship meetings with international students in Budapest that meets in our apartment. It was one of these students, a 21-year-old Kenyan student here studying Economics, who made the first connections with arriving students who had fled Ukraine. 

Our church building is a close walk to the western rail station in Budapest, and he had walked there to see for himself what was happening. He met a few Nigerian students who had just arrived, and learned that they did not have anywhere to go – it was the middle of the night on Monday, February 28. He called and asked our pastors if we could open up the church, and we ended up hosting 15 students that night, with Pastor Aaron sleeping over in the church with them. By the end of Tuesday, we had supplies and volunteers to host closer to 30 people, and donations were pouring in. For nine nights and days we worked with a volunteer base of about 30 people to provide shelter, food, wi-fi, advice, and supplies for the onward journey. Some of the students have returned to their home countries, and others are waiting here in Hungary for news on whether they can transfer into Hungarian universities. 

I (Jeff) have been coordinating the volunteer efforts for St. Columba’s, and serving with the leadership for the shelter efforts. Julie has done multiple shifts helping with everything from food preparation to laundry and cleaning. We have slept over in the church multiple times. On Thursday the 3rd of March, and Sunday March 6th, we integrated our regular ministry activities to include some of our guests – on Thursday we held our weekly fellowship meeting at the church, and our circle of about 20 included about ten “regulars,” and about ten new arrivals from Ukraine, and all but one or two were African. On Sunday, a team of Nigerian students displaced from Ukraine helped lead us in worship, singing with us the familiar song, “All are welcome.” 

Let us build a house where love can dwell and all can safely live, 

A place where saints and children tell how hearts learn to forgive; 

 built of hopes and dreams and visions, rock of faith and vault of grace; 

 here the love of Christ shall end divisions; 

All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome, in this place. 

Let us build a house where prophets speak, and words are strong and true, 

where all God’s children dare to seek to dream God’s reign anew. 

Here the cross shall stand as witness and as symbol of God’s grace; 

 here as one we claim the faith of Jesus; 

All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome, in this place. 

Let us build a house where love is found in water, wine and wheat: 

a banquet hall on holy ground, where peace and justice meet. 

Here the love of God, through Jesus, is revealed in time and space, 

as we share in Christ the feast that frees us, 

All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome, in this place. 

Let us build a house where hands will reach beyond the wood and stone 

to heal and strengthen, serve and teach, and live the Word they’ve known.

 Here the outcast and the stranger bear the image of God’s face; 

let us bring an end to fear and danger: 

All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome, in this place. 

Let us build a house where all are named, their songs and visions heard 

and loved and treasured, taught and claimed as words within the Word. 

Built of tears and cries and laughter, prayers of faith and songs of grace, 

let this house proclaim from floor to rafter: 

All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome, in this place. (Marty Haugen) 

 The outpouring of support and refuge by Hungarians, and all Europeans, has been a remarkable shift from previous experiences, for a variety of reasons. The coordination both within Hungary between different church denominations, congregations, non-profit organizations and government entities, has been remarkable. Not perfect, but remarkable. Day-to-day life in Budapest is strangely normal, with Covid cases coming down low enough to end an existing mask mandate on public transportation and inside stores. The 200,000+ new arrivals are finding shelter in peoples’ homes, in hotels, and in other arrangements. In the English class I teach, I asked the Hungarian students to talk about their thoughts about the war, and most of them were happy and proud that Hungary has treated these refugees well, and shown that it can step up to a large challenge with hospitality and good will. 

On a more macro church level, the partnership work we are doing with the Reformed Church of Hungary’s refugee ministry has also been active. The Reformed Church Aid, which is the administrative unit that oversees the refugee ministry as part of a larger set of “social inclusion” efforts, has been working with people at the border, equipping Hungarian congregations to welcome people, and actively seeking to provide shelter and comfort to many who are typically marginalized. Many women are arriving with children, while their husbands are not allowed to leave the country, instead being asked to serve militarily in Ukraine’s defense of its land and statehood. I’ve helped with editing the English translation of website updates, and I am not in the process of helping develop a large grant proposal to a European funding organization that is seeking to provide longer term support for housing and psycho-social needs that refugee families who settle in Hungary will have in the coming years. Because of the historically fluid borders in central Europe, there are many ethnic Hungarians who live in towns along the western border of Ukraine that is shared with Hungary. Many of these families have dual citizenship, and there are lots of family connections between the two countries in this area. 

 We so appreciate your prayers for us, and for peace. Thank you to the many who have reached out in one way or another to show your support. Many of you have asked about the best way to support those involved on the front lines of this crisis. We don’t have all the answers of course, but we do have some suggestions. Our support with Resonate is crucial to our ability to help over the long term, and we have still not reached 50% of our target goal, after about 70% of the fiscal year has gone by. We would ask you to prayerfully consider a gift to our account with Resonate. Our church, St. Columba’s Scottish Mission, which has been in Budapest since the 1840s, has donation information here, and is doing good on-the-ground work. The larger Reformed Church Aid is another possibility, with gifts marked for “refugee ministry” – information is available here. 

 In other news, we are still working daily on our Hungarian proficiency, with continued progress. We look forward to some upcoming visitors, with an international conference on Christian higher education being hosted in Budapest in early April, we will see quite a few colleagues then. This past week we were privileged to have the chance to get together with partner Resonate missionaries Joel and Hailey Altena who came to Budapest for their spring break from LCC International in Lithuania. Jeff has been working hard on the project of bringing one or two young adults to Budapest for a year starting in the summer, to serve as volunteers, and to help him further develop a potentially larger volunteer year program across Europe. Julie continues to volunteer twice a week at a local high school, teach one student English weekly, and together we have begun helping a colleague learn Spanish. We continue to enjoy poetry, podcasts, music, and developing friendships. Our son Bastian will join us in April and be here for Easter, which we also greatly look forward to. 

As always, we covet your prayers, and your communication. We would love to hear any short updates on your lives, how we can be praying for you as you pray for us. 

 Praying for peace, Jeff and Julie Bouman 

 Prayer points: * For wisdom and discernment in matching our capacity to the great need to care for refugees. * For a good friend, Maria, who is searching desperately for a way to stay in Hungary after a year of voluntary service here, and some heavy challenges. * For our ability to remain focused and disciplined in language learning. * For the redevelopment of the refugee ministry, and successful grant applications leading to resources that enable it put to work it’s many years of holistic ministry and service. * A national election is scheduled for Hungary on April 3 – please pray for a leader, and a government that has wisdom and soft hearts for justice and love.

One of Julie's Ukrainian-Nigerian friends' creations during her time with us.

A message for departing guests from our temporary shelter.

Pictured at the top: thousands of Hungarians gathered in historic 

Heroes Square on March 9 to agitate for peace.

Where are you coming from? Where are you going? Ash Wednesday 2022

It’s been a couple of days, friends. I began writing this yesterday, but finished today, on the evening of Ash Wednesday… It was the last day of Epiphany, or “ordinary time,” the day before Ash Wednesday, otherwise known as Fat Tuesday. No paczkis this year, or any other Mardi Gras type celebration. I thought it might be nice, or at least therapeutic for me, to write down the events of the past two days as I remember them, as they have been memorable in many respects. At six on Tuesday, as I was waking up, I was planning out my morning run. But as I ventured into the normal routine of checking out what’s happening in the world (online), I was confronted with the fact that I had missed something overnight. Even though I had been in close conversation with colleagues from church about what to do about arriving refugees, the last thought I had before sleeping was that we would tend to the question more in the morning. As it turned out, one of our international students (a Kenyan) had met several Nigerian students at the train station who did not have anywhere to go. He called our pastor, very late, and was able to get permission to bring a few over to our church, which is a five-minute walk from the train station. One thing led to another, and soon there were about fifteen, all medical students who had until last week been studying medicine at a university in Kharkiv, Ukraine. They had been traveling three days continuously, and therefore were happy with what we had to offer, which was basically a place out of the cold, with internet, toilets, warmth, and welcome. So when I woke up, I was greeted with a question, “can you get to church by 8am to open the kitchen?” Of course I could. So I got up, decided to forgo the normal routine of a 5-mile run, and went to church to open the kitchen. There I met our pastor, my friend Aaron, and then Edward, the leader/pastor of this group of Nigerian students in transition. He was grateful for the place to sleep, and very clear in his goal to see the younger members of the group fly home to Nigeria sooner rather than later. The more senior members of the group, especially the ones who are slated to graduate with their medical degrees this May, he was more circumspect about. They may hang around and hope for the ability to return in time to get their degrees. How long will it last? We wonder. I offered to reach out to an undergraduate student here in Budapest who is from Nigeria, and who has been a regular member of our Thursday evening fellowship, to see if she might be wiling an interested in serving the group as a sort of tour guide, to help them find local charity and second-hand clothing shops for their journey. I texted Julie to ask if she can put together a list of these shops, and within minutes I get a detailed reply with all of the shops listed neatly and helpfully. After this I went home, a short walk, and I got ready for the day’s Hungarian lesson, starting at 10. Today we looked at ways to say “I need to,” or “I have permission to,” in various ways, and it was fun, and it was hard at the same time, as it is every day. But today I was more distracted than usual. After class I had a quick lunch. We had bought a loaf of fresh bread on Monday from the Mexican-Hungarian bakery nearby. They are the ones who last week found Julie’s wallet in their shop, and they took the time to reach out to me on Instagram to return the wallet. We will be in their debt for awhile, and it’s a good thing their bread, and other pastries, are A-1 quality. After lunch, I went to the university where I taught the small group of intermediate English students, using a favorite poem of peace and hope by Lithuanian-Polish poet Czesław Miłosz “This World" It appears that it was all a misunderstanding. What was only a trial run was taken seriously. The rivers will return to their beginnings. The wind will cease in its turning about. Trees instead of budding will tend to their roots. Old men will chase a ball, a glance in the mirror– They are children again. The dead will wake up, not comprehending. Till everything that happened has unhappened. What a relief! Breathe freely, you who have suffered much.” Czesław Miłosz After the English class, I prepared for the second class, on service-learning, and when I got there I learned that one of the students is going to have to drop the class – his family are from Ukraine (he is from Hungary, but there are many connections between the two countries), and he is very busy and worried trying to help them find ways to safely leave. Even though he has to drop the class, he is still eager to complete the service-learning hours. An atheist, he is intrigued by the concepts we had begun discussing last week, about how service, justice, and faith can intertwine. Today was even more exhausting, and rewarding. We spent much of the day, beginning at 7am, at the church. There were 27 guests last night, and we helped get a breakfast ready, prepare and clean up the kitchen and common area. Around 8:30 or 9, we learned that a new family had arrived, with a 45-day old baby, and that they were trying to keep warm in a bus at the train station nearby. I quickly went there, naïvely expecting a mom, dad and baby. When I found them, I learned that there were two families traveling together, with a total of six adults and five children. As we walked the short distance back to the church, I carried the sleeping two-year old, and her weight reminded me of the physical exhaustion that so many have felt these past 6 days of flight (and many years for others). Traveling, especially forced traveling when you do not know your destination, is cruelly confusing and exhausting. We arrived at the church, and they were able to sit, clean up, charge phones, eat, and begin making plans for their next step. I later learned that the father in the family of the baby is a cardiologist, Nigerian born, but living in Ukraine – all of the children are Ukrainian citizens. By day’s end, they had made their way to a nearby hotel. Others have taken their places at church – Julie and I return there in a short while to spend the night. We have also learned that a neighborhood restaurant has offered to begin providing lunch for up to 25 each day for our guests, and that the neighborhood laundromat has agreed to offer discounts for our guests. We joined our regular on-line Bible discussion tonight and participated in a service of Ash Wednesday observance. My most poignant moment in the discussion came when our pastor and friend Aaron made the connection between our conversations with refugees that often centers around questions like “where are you coming from?” and where are you going?” These are the same questions that we are asked to ponder on Ash Wednesday. And the answers are that we come from dust, and we are returning to dust. And for the next six weeks, we have the opportunity to ponder how that grim reality of our “dustness” is shaped and given redemptive hope in the reality of the events of Good Friday and Easter, those most important of moments in the Christian experience. In these moments of crisis, we are witnessing moments of great human compassion and empathy. We are praying earnestly for weapons to fail, for hearts to change, for the resistance both within Ukraine, but also within the Russian people. Join us, won’t you? (photo of a museum photo at the Busó museum in Mohács, depicting the arrival of the Busós by boat)