The train chugs along the seemingly endless Trans-Siberian Railroad,* every one of the 54 berths in our wagon occupied. It reeks of sweaty feet, cheap alcohol, and Ramen noodles. The stifling heat and din of humanity keep sending me to the far end of the train for some semblance of fresh air. Everything in me wants out…back to where we came from 15 hours ago.
We’d been traversing frozen Lake Baikal** covering 600 kilometers (373 mi.) in 24 days. Beneath us lay 20 percent of the world’s freshwater, 336 rivers and streams flowing in, and the one great Angara flowing out. Every morning we’d crawled out of our tents, harnessed ourselves to a sled loaded with a month’s worth of provisions, and pushed northward. Surrounded by vast expanses of ice and snow and with massive mountains stretching along the entire western shore, we faced bitter winds, snowstorms, pack ice, exhaustion, cracks wide enough to swallow sleds and men… and ourselves.
For a decade, we’d been navigating the icy expanses of this lake from different directions every March and April, covering from 60 – 200 miles. These weren’t tourist hikes or survival training; they were a key part of the character training called Men’s Forge. We went beyond discussing masculinity in theory over breakfast. We tested it in extreme conditions and then lived it out in practical ways.
Over the years, the lake and its challenges have required many men to face themselves: their fears, strengths and weaknesses, moral standards, wounds, passivity, addictions, revealing what they’re truly made of and made for. The trail is the relentless teacher, sparing no one its demanding lessons.
Why is all this necessary? In the last century, Christianity has boxed itself into comfortable rooms: buildings, churches, classes, conferences – much of its life lived out behind walls. Jesus taught in the synagogues, but mostly He walked with his disciples along dusty roads, across hills and fields, through villages and towns, crossing lakes and rivers, teaching Eternal Truth in nature and through the unexpected circumstances, radical people, and extreme difficulties they encountered.
Here’s what God says about a much-neglected training ground: “Remember how the Lord your God led you through the wilderness these forty years, humbling you and testing you to prove your character and to find out whether or not you would obey his commands.” Deuteronomy 8:2
The wilderness of life forges us into men who don’t cave in under pressure. Lessons that cut to the bone and marrow as we face the rawelements leave a lasting impact on our character. Is conquering such extremes the criteria for masculinity? No. God has His way with each of us. Our goal wasn’t to hike across a frozen lake. The lake is just the means to the goal. The goal itself is always character. Like squeezing toothpaste, challenging times work like a vise, squeezing the real deal out of us, and what comes out calls for attention. Is it the untamed reaction of my flesh showing up or some measure of the Spirit’s control?
I’d come to know the men on the team long before they knew Christ. Like me, they’d grown up under communism, a system that brutally tried to stamp out Christianity, trampling masculinity and the value of family in the process. Most of the guys carried a deep father wound and needed a man to fill that role, to teach them the way of a man. With those who wanted to follow Christ, I started down the long road of discipleship. As they grew stronger in faith, the physical challenges and distances of our hikes grew. That’s how life is. As we prove faithful in small things, the Lord entrusts us with bigger and more responsibilities.
In time, those men became servants and leaders in their families, communities, and churches, overcoming generations of male passivity and self-destruction. After years of life together, they were shouldering their God-given responsibilities well, and the time came, as Paul with Timothy, to say goodbye. And so we undertook our last, longest, most challenging endeavor together, the 600 km trek sealing the bond of brotherhood.
As we closed in on our destination, spring weather caught up with us. Warm temperatures melted the snow and flooded the ice. Under extreme physical exhaustion, we made less progress through the slush each day, eventually abandoning the sled, hauling our gear in increments, and then coming back for the sled. When the ice became too dangerous, we called the Coast Guard to get us to shore. Just 40 miles, and we’d have reached the northernmost tip of the lake. Though we didn’t quite reach our destination, we did reach our goal.
With each clatter of the rails, the train carried us further from the pristine world of clean air, biting wind, and crackling ice, where the disconnect from cyberspace awakened our senses to the wonders of Creation. Having faced the daily challenges that shaped our characters like iron sharpens iron, we’d been changed and headed back into the good, bad and ugly of civilization, equipped to live out the refining work accomplished on the Icy Anvil of God.
On a journey that takes you through the elements and adversities to face yourself and your Maker, you begin tapping into strength that forges your character and unlocks your God-given potential.
*Trans-Siberian Railroad, the longest single rail system in the world, stretches 9,288 kilometers (5,771 miles.)
**Some expeditions come here to train before traversing Antarctica.