How much do you know about Siberia?  Although thanks ((obliquly) former Soviet dictator Josef Stalin and the writings of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn about the so-called "Man of Steel's" Gulag of labor camps, Siberia tends to generate uncomfortable feelings for many of us, the land itself remains magnificent.  Remote, largely pristine, and perched on the edge of forest and tundra, an enduring gateway to the deepest Arctic, Siberia is a spectacular place.
     As I have been reading George Kennan's (yes, he is related to the twentieth century American diplomat) account of his journey through the region in the late nineteenth century, I have thought much about the irony of how sometimes places of the most remarkable beauty become places of the most chilling horror.  For Kennan, traveling through Siberia was a journey of wonder, one in which he daily encountered new and interesting things, one in which he saw displays of wilderness which he could not find anywhere else.  It was life changing.
     On the other hand, Siberia has been life changing for others, too, in the most unfortunate of ways.  It's tragic.  It's tragic that humans who fail to grasp the deeper meaning of this world and its splendor pervert it to their dark satisfaction, overturn any metaphysical notions of worth, and reduce the planet to a personal whim.  What are they thinking?  How can creatures of contingency suppose that they can shape it to their wishes?
     Throughout his travels, Kennan returns to a fundamental point:  while he realizes those he meets will always be different from he, he also realizes that they, like he, are simply fellow travelers on a planet which will forever be God's gift to all of us.
     And a planet which, through God's work, in Jesus, on the cross, will always be good.