One Weekend, Four Flags, and Sixty Hearts: Ukrainians Gather at Eagle’s Wings Camp

When we started the Ukrainian church in Riga a year and a half ago, we hoped to learn more about who else was working with Ukrainians in the Baltic States. For example, at camp this year we didn’t have enough leaders and needed help — but we didn’t know who to ask. There were people in Ukraine we could invite, but it was very difficult for them to come. We were sure there must be others in the Baltics who could help; we just hadn’t met them yet.

That need led to the idea of gathering people together — to meet, connect, and learn what everyone is doing across the Baltics. We already knew of a Ukrainian church in Tallinn, Estonia’s capital, which started its ministry before ours. Two years ago, a group of us went up to visit them, but we were only there briefly and didn’t get to know them well enough to work together.

We also had a positive experience in Tartu, Estonia. Some people we’d been working with in Latvia — who weren’t yet Christians — told me they were moving there. I went to Tartu to find believers who could welcome them and help them settle. I found contacts by calling friends in Ukraine and asking if they knew anyone in that area of the Baltics.

I wanted this conference to be different. Usually, at conferences there’s a speaker, everyone listens, maybe takes notes — and it can get pretty dull. So when I planned the program, I added things to catch people’s attention: “We’re going to have volleyball. We’re going to have a surprise coffee break.” When the young people in Tallinn heard that, they said, “Yes, we want to come!”

But I wanted more than just fun and good food. The word conference comes from the Latin conferre, meaning “to bring together.” It originally meant a meeting for discussion or consultation, but over time it came to describe events filled with one-way presentations — more dissemination than dialogue. I wanted to bring back that original meaning. So while we did have speakers, I asked each of them to make their sessions interactive, leading discussions instead of giving lectures.

I’d planned to buy Ukrainian and Latvian flags for the conference, but when I went to the shop, I also saw Estonian and Lithuanian flags. I hesitated — should I spend the extra money? In the end, I bought all four.

When I got home, I unfolded the Lithuanian flag and realised I couldn’t remember which way up it went. The Latvian flag is simple — it doesn’t matter which way round you hang it. Of course, I know the Ukrainian flag very well: blue for the sky, yellow for the fields. But the Lithuanian one? I had no idea! I had to look it up online and print out a cheat sheet to remind myself.

When I looked at that printout, I thought, “They look so beautiful together!” All I had to do was add the conference theme — ‘Where are you?’ — and I suddenly had a ready-made header for the conference flyer.

The first goal of the conference was simply to get to know each other. We had a large group from all over Latvia, as well as people from  Tallinn and Tartu in Estonia, and a family from Klaipėda in Lithuania. We don’t yet have many contacts in Lithuania, but we believe that will grow.

The second goal was to share experiences — what we’ve tried, what worked, and what didn’t. We shared about our small group meetings in Riga, and the Klaipėda group decided to start the same. Their first meeting is already planned for this Friday.

Finally, we wanted to learn how to support one another — to understand each other’s needs and plan future events together.

Along with the participants from Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, we also had guests from Poland, including one from the Ukrainian Baptist Union who oversees all Ukrainian Baptist churches outside Ukraine. We didn’t have a Polish flag, but we promised our Polish guests that next time we would add theirs. Maybe next time, some will also come from Finland!

One pastor asked why the conference was only for Ukrainians. He said we should be sharing the gospel with everyone — Latvians, Russians, Estonians… I replied that, of course, we must share the gospel with all people, but right now, in the current situation, Ukrainians are best placed to reach other Ukrainians.

We had several coffee breaks, but one of them was extra special. Thanks to generous donations, we ordered 60 Latvian fruit tartlets — crumbly pastry shells filled with sweet cream and topped with fresh fruit — from the Ērgļi bakery.

When we announced the break, everyone went upstairs expecting the usual coffee, tea, and store-bought cookies. But when they saw the beautiful tartlets, they were delighted! That break was half an hour, but we quickly realised we needed a full hour for the following ones. With delicious cake, good coffee, and warm conversation, nobody wanted to leave.

I asked one of the young women from Tartu to bring her violin. She asked, “Can I really do that?” I said, “I NEED you to do that!” She added a beautiful touch to our musical times together.

Oleksandr Serhiichuk came to Latvia from the part of the Kherson region now occupied by Russia. Back home, he was an art teacher, a farmer, and a pastor at his local church. During his first year in Latvia, an EU scheme funded his work as an art teacher at the Ukrainian school in Riga. When the scheme ended, he became an assistant teacher at the Latvian Art Academy. The pay was very low, so he now works as a supermarket security guard. The manager loves him — he’s remarkably good at catching shoplifters.

When teenage boys try to skip scanning items at the self-service checkout, Oleksandr gives them a choice: he can call the police, or they can go back and scan the items he saw them hide. He tells them he doesn’t know what else they might have stolen, but that God does — and each item will rest on their conscience before Him forever. Yet he does it so kindly that those same boys greet him warmly every time they come shopping.

For the conference, Oleksandr prepared a canvas covered in thick black paint. If you looked closely, you could see hearts hidden all over it, but from a distance it just looked dark. His session began with the idea that our world is often dark — but Jesus did something extraordinary: He gave Himself, and His heart. As Oleksandr spoke, he took gold paint and brushed it over the largest heart, the one with a cross through it.

Then he invited each person to come up, find one of the sixty hidden hearts, and paint it gold — uncovering their own hearts. Oleksandr reminded us that Jesus, through His light, has had a huge influence on this world, and that we too should let our light shine.