Lower Columbia United Methodist Connection

12/08/2025

12/07/2025

I never thought I would read in America about detainees in “Alligator Alcatraz” facing treatment that reads like a page torn from my childhood memories of Soviet gulags.

My mother used to warn me:
“Не плюй в колодец — пригодится водицы напиться.” — Don’t spit into the well—you may need that water someday.

A society that mistreats the most vulnerable is poisoning its own well.
The water will come back to us.
And Scripture never lets us pretend otherwise.

So we hold our communities close, pray for courage, and choose not to look away.
Justice is not a political stance—it is a spiritual posture.
And silence in the face of suffering is never the way of Christ.

11/04/2025

Core Group

11/04/2025

🌉 Welcome to the Lower Columbia United Methodist Connection (LCUMC)! 🌊
Five congregations — one shared mission.
From Kalama, Longview to Castle Rock in Washington to Rainier, St. Helens in Oregon, we’re crossing bridges and building community together.

Our new name, created by the Core Group of leaders representing their congregations, reflects what we already live out every week — faith in action, love in motion.

Follow this page to stay connected with worship services, local outreach, and stories of grace flowing across the Columbia River region.

11/04/2025

What If... There Is No Heaven? ✨
Our All Saints Sunday at Longview Umc was filled with light, remembrance, and a brave question: What if there is no heaven?
We Methodists need to rediscover what it means to live heaven now.
And then, something beautiful happened… our Longview congregation lifted their voices together in John Lennon’s Imagine. 🎶
For a moment, faith and hope met right here on earth. "Do good..." Heaven isn’t only a destination—it’s a daily calling. 💜
🎥 Watch and listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzOhjwqKJLU

07/21/2025

Thinking of Rev. Frank Dorsey today and missing him deeply. Frank and Nancy were two of my dearest friends. Frank and I met in 1993 when I served as Director for the General Board of Global Ministries for Russia, and he represented Kansas. I regret not having the chance to say goodbye to Nancy before our move to the PNW.

Frank and Nancy moved to Kansas City, KS in 1968 to serve Central Avenue UMC — the same church I served in 1996. Frank was deeply involved in the civil rights movement, even working with the Black Panthers to bridge divides, and standing up to the local mafia to help build affordable housing at 12th & Central. Bold, fearless, and humble — that was Frank.

He invited me to preach at Asbury UMC in Lenexa, KS in 1994. The photo of us is from that day. Frank later blogged about science, faith, and the environment at www.ToThinkAgain.com, taught classes at St. Paul School of Theology and Grace UMC, and stayed active in justice work to the end.

Nancy gave me a beautiful bell and cross in 1999 — the first things I unpacked in our new home. I’ll always be grateful for their friendship. https://www.greatplainsumc.org/

06/23/2025

It just hit me—today is June 22.
After the long move and all the unpacking, I almost missed it. This date may pass quietly for many, but for those of us who grew up in the former Soviet Union, it carries a weight that still echoes through generations.

We all knew the song:
«Двадцать второго июня, ровно в 4 часа, Киев бомбили, нам объявили, что началась война…»
(“On June 22nd, at exactly 4 a.m., Kyiv was bombed, and we were told the war had begun…”)

My mother was just seven years old in 1941 when she heard those words: “Hitler attacked our country.” Her father was in the military. She remembered the fear, the silence, and the grief that came after. My father added two years to his age and got drafted—still just a boy. He flew American B-25 Mitchell bombers, delivered to the Soviets through the Lend-Lease program, from Alaska to Russia.

The Soviet Union lost over 20 million lives during World War II.
Not twenty men—twenty million souls. Soldiers. Children. Mothers. Entire cities and villages erased.

Before you go to bed tonight, pause for a moment.
Remember them.
And don’t forget what made it all possible.
Fascism begins by dehumanizing others. By dividing people. By lifting up one nation, one race, one voice—while silencing the rest.

Let’s never let that happen again. Not here. Not anywhere.

06/20/2025

🐾 What was our biggest fear before our 1,800-mile move to the PNW?
Packing? Nope. We’ve moved before. It was the dogs.
Luna—our dog—isn’t exactly a social butterfly. Alma—my son’s dog—barks at anything that moves outside her window. Now we were bringing Luna into Alma’s house and backyard. What could go wrong?

Everything. We expected barking battles, sleepless nights, and a rotating shift schedule just to keep the peace. My son installed gates on every floor. We even planned detours so Luna wouldn’t walk past that window—the one that turns Alma into a full-blown security alarm. And yes, we had Grisha the cat to consider—especially his sacred food bowl. Ironically, that was the one thing Luna and Alma had in common: they both loved the cat’s food. So even more gates went up.

Then one day, the dogs ended up in the backyard together—accidentally. We braced ourselves ready to act. They sniffed. Paused. And then… they played. No barking. No aggression. No fear. Just play. Acceptance. All our careful plans and barriers dissolved in one moment of curiosity and grace.
(Except Grisha’s. He still guards his food).

It made me think: we humans build fences too—out of fear, assumptions, control. But sometimes, peace finds us the moment we stop trying so hard to force it. Sometimes the real miracle happens when we simply let others in.