Journey Of Faith Pastor Hopes To End Battles From The Past

An ambitious young Ukrainian pastor is trying to end a feud among Spokane’s Russian Baptists that began in the former Soviet Union.

At age 33, Alexandr Kaprian is a father of eight, a full-time social worker immersed in the troubles of Russian refugees and now pastor to a growing congregation.

He founded Pilgrim Slavic Baptist Church on a guiding principle: There would be no discrimination based on nationality, nor on whether a person belonged to a registered church or an underground church in the former Soviet Union.

“There is no more KGB, no more persecution. We should forget the old fights,” he says.

“I declared we don’t have to recognize who is Ukrainian, Russian, Armenian. The Bible says we are all one people. Let’s build a new church as the Bible says.”

The idea caught fire with Russians weary of old battles. More than 300 adults and teenagers attend Sunday services, with two to four new families joining each week. They fill the rented sanctuary at Central Baptist Church, W19 Shannon, and some must stand along the walls.

Kaprian also works at the Department of Social and Health Services with Russian and Ukrainian welfare recipients.

The former electrician and boxer worries about his cholesterol level and the stress of his two jobs. He sees himself as a community servant, rather than a leader.

All day, every day, people tell him their problems. There are Russians in Spokane on visitor’s visas who now refuse to return home, a newly arrived refugee who must miss her son’s funeral because she cannot go back without losing her right to be in this country, couples whose marriages suffer from the strain of starting from nothing in America.

“I have people tell me they are ready to suicide,” he says, looping an imaginary rope tight around his neck.

“They’re dreaming to work. They want to improve their style of life. They don’t want to stay on welfare. They hate it.”

He sees his eight children only late in the evenings when he tells them Bible stories, tales from his childhood and accounts of Russian Christians imprisoned by the Soviets.

“The first and most important thing is to keep our children Christians,” he says.

Kaprian’s faith taught him children are God’s gifts. His five girls and three boys range from 2-year-old John, born in the United States, to 14-year-old Vyacheslav, a student at Glover Middle School.

Building a future for them that includes their heritage is immensely important to him.

“We ask our children don’t speak English at home. We don’t worry about their English. We worry about their Russian.”

Kaprian’s wife, Vera, 33, stays home to care for them. But she would rather be employed, he says. She was a boiler operator at a factory in Ukraine where there was free government-operated day care.

Kaprian was a youth pastor of an illegal, underground church in Ukraine. When church members encouraged him to leave, he prayed for guidance.

“I prayed and fasted. I don’t always believe in fasting because we have to live by our minds too. But I asked God `Please show me what to do.’

“God showed me the future.”

In his vision, he saw himself working among refugees in the United States.

Tuesday marks the sixth anniversary of his arrival in America. He feels he did right to take God’s challenge.

When he looks into the future now, not after fasting but during lunch at a restaurant near his office, he sees his congregation buying a large church building with a library, gym, classrooms and a music school.

“Russians are not satisfied,” he says. “All the time they want to improve their life.”