
I love stories, and life has given me plenty to tell. It has long been my plan to put them down on paper. My path has taken me through 15 years of entrepreneurship, travelling, and finally, immigrating. I found myself again in a new place as an employed software engineer, and now, five years onwards, I am transitioning back to independence.

I was born in soviet Moscow and went to school in a new, unknown country that had yet to define itself. I belong to the single, non-indoctrinated generation of Russians around: we were taught that anything was possible and that our only limits were those we set for ourselves. This played some bad jokes on me: Once my childhood was over, the country decided to make another turn, this time back to authoritarianism, and together with its people, happily embraced the old and familiar soviet dogmas.

So, a year after graduating high school, I jumped on the website development bandwagon that has carried me for the last 20 years.

My experience was not purely virtual: my severe first \[ad]venture was an e-commerce website that sold shoes and accessories (my friend brought the idea, not a passion for shoes!). The next one was even more grounded: a chain of gadget repair stores. The third I would call 'Chinese adventures', as I was involved in trading activities for many small-scale entrepreneurs like me in China. These adventures, spanning from 2000 to 2014, were thrilling but ended abruptly as Russia took a turn I couldn't follow.

That time, my country decided to be, once again, the bad guy and no one asked me if I wanted to participate, so I quit.

The word 'quit' is nice and short! Applying it to reality was a grilling experience. It took me several attempts and struggles to acquire a new true home: Israel. Most of my current stories are related to this land and its people.

I'm practical, so I write about entrepreneurship, technology, business, and ideas in general. I have never been short of ideas, and I believe in the power of sharing them to make the ideas a part of reality, to let them sprout and witness the fruits.

To set the record straight, I am a Christian, so my viewpoint is not so common in Israel or the world of tech. This lens offers a distinctive angle to my experiences and reflections.


Twitter

Linkedin

Facebook

Immigrant, Enterpreneur, Husband, Father and Son

Rodion Kuprin


*Delivered at Immanuel Church, Tel Aviv — August 16, 2025*

**Readings:** Luke 11:1–13 · Genesis 18:20–32 · Colossians 2:6–15

---

## Opening

Brothers and sisters, today's readings invite us to think about how we pray, how we trust, and how we forgive.

Jesus' disciples once asked, "Lord, teach us to pray," and what he gave them was a formula and a way of life: a prayer that touches our deepest needs and transforms our outlook on God and our neighbour.

The words of this prayer are familiar, yet in Luke's Gospel the prayer is shorter. It begins simply with **"Father."** In Matthew, however, we find the longer version beginning with _"Our Father."_ Early Christian writings like the _Didache_ also preserve this prayer, showing how central it was from the very beginning of the church's life. Whether Luke or Matthew, the spirit of the prayer assumes that it is communal. We never pray alone; whenever we call upon God as Father, we are standing alongside countless others who call Him by the same name. From the first pages of the Bible, beginning with the story of creation, we see that humanity is one family — descendants of Adam by flesh and, through faith, children of Abraham.

---

## Boldness in Prayer — Abraham and the Friend at Midnight

In Genesis we hear Abraham's bold intercession for Sodom. Notice how daring he is: he bargains down from fifty righteous to just ten. And he does so not for himself but for strangers. He already knows God, and therefore he dares to ask. Prayer, then, is not timid; it is a wrestling with God's justice and mercy. Abraham calls himself "dust and ashes," yet he still speaks — because God has chosen to listen.

Jesus echoes this boldness right after teaching the prayer. He tells the parable of a neighbour who knocks at midnight until he gets bread. Shameless persistence, Jesus says, is how we should approach the Father. _"Ask, and it will be given; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened."_ This parable becomes even more vivid when we read it alongside how Abraham welcomed the three visitors, going to great lengths to serve them. In both stories, the request is not for personal hunger but for hospitality — for the sake of others. Abraham prepared a feast for strangers; the neighbour in the parable begs for bread to welcome a guest.

We are called to pray with that same audacity: not shy, not selfish, but brave enough to ask for others as well as ourselves. And when we pray for one another, we are no longer just individuals bringing lists before God — we are becoming the church, the family of God, bound together in intercession.

---

## A Childhood Memory — Desire and Blindness

When I was a little boy in Russia in the early nineties, I longed for things we did not have. Advertisements on TV showed a different world: children eating Snickers bars, families enjoying Uncle Ben's pasta. I wanted those things desperately, without noticing the struggle of my parents, who were working hard simply to provide bread on the table.

Just like that, we can be so consumed by our own requests that we do not notice the needs of others. Abraham teaches us a different way: pray not only for yourself but for those you may never meet. Ask for your brother, and your brother will ask for you. In this, our prayers intertwine, and we become a family under God.

---

## The Practice of Interceding for Others

There is a saying I once heard from a Russian monk who practised hesychasm (a repeated prayer). Struggling with pride, he was advised to change his repeated prayer. Instead of always saying, _"Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner,"_ he began to pray: _"By the prayers of those who love me, have mercy on me."_ It is a strange and humbling shift. Instead of focusing only on his own voice, he learned to lean on the prayers of others.

This practice comes from a different theological framework than ours and is shared here as an illustration, not as something we adopt. But it carries a truth: we should not stop praying ourselves, yet sometimes we must trust others to pray for us. Jesus himself, in the garden of Gethsemane, asked his disciples to keep watch and pray with him. They failed, falling asleep, but their presence shows us something important: if possible, prayer is not meant to be carried alone. Even the Son of God wanted the prayers of his friends. And though those disciples failed that night, perhaps our brothers and sisters will not.

When our own words run dry, when we feel desperate or too weary to pray, we may rest in the assurance that others are carrying us. This is what "Our Father" truly means — we are sustained by the prayers of one another. And when we say _"Our Father"_ together, we may think of the great cloud of prayer that surrounds us: brothers and sisters in every part of the world, some of whom we will never meet.

One of the important missionary efforts of Immanuel Church is very simple: we keep our doors open and we talk to people who enter. Sometimes a visitor comes into Immanuel Church, saying he was here twenty years ago, or served as a volunteer, and that he still prays for us. We are blessed by hundreds, perhaps thousands, who are lifting us before God even now. Think about that when you say _"Our Father."_

---

## Daily Bread — Trust for Today

Having reflected on Abraham's intercession and on how others may carry us in prayer, we now turn to the most basic of petitions in the Lord's Prayer. After speaking boldly for strangers and trusting the prayers of our brothers and sisters, we are reminded that prayer is also simple: asking God for what sustains life today.

Bonhoeffer once warned that hoarding shows a lack of trust. The manna in the wilderness spoiled if people tried to save it overnight. In the same way, our worries about tomorrow rarely help. If we can act, we should act — finish the task, help a neighbour. But when we cannot, anxiety only traps us in a circle of helplessness, as we are trying to control what is not ours to control.

Daily bread prayer brings us back: it is God's world, God's time, and God's provision.

---

## Forgiveness — Receiving and Sharing Mercy

Next, Jesus teaches us to pray, _"Forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us."_ This is perhaps the hardest line. Forgiveness is not a simple feeling, but a hard choice and a process. It may begin in our hearts, but it should eventually manifest itself outwardly through actions.

Paul in Colossians reminds us that God _"forgave us all our sins, having cancelled the charge of our legal indebtedness; he nailed it to the cross."_ This is the source: we forgive because we have been forgiven. We forgive not because others deserve it, but because God's mercy has first reached us.

Forgiveness is a command, not an option. Jesus underlines this again and again: _"If you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you."_ (Matt. 6:14). To love is to forgive, and love in Scripture is always action, never mere sentiment. Two weeks ago, we reflected that love is not only a feeling but a force that transforms action. Forgiveness works the same way — it moves us from resentment to generosity.

And forgiveness can manifest itself through many actions. My personal touch is this: if you are struggling to forgive someone, ask yourself how you can help that person, how you can ease the burden for him or her. By doing so, you promote love, and forgiveness becomes one of the fruits of love, as Paul wrote.

---

## Core Message

**Because God is our Father, we may pray with bold trust for today's needs, and we are called to extend the forgiveness we have received.**

This is the identity we carry: children of God. It means to pray with boldness like Abraham, to depend daily on God's provision, and to forgive as those whose debts were nailed to the cross.

---

## Conclusion

So let us pray as Jesus taught — not rushing, not hoarding, not clinging to grudges, but living as children of a generous Father. As we go from here, let us carry these images with us: Abraham daring to plead for others, the neighbour knocking until bread was given, the manna reminding us of daily trust, and the cross where our debts were cancelled. When worry rises, recall the prayer for daily bread. When bitterness stirs, remember the forgiveness we have received. When fear holds you back, remember that God welcomes bold prayer, even from dust and ashes.

And remember too: it is **Our Father.** We do not walk this road alone. We carry one another in prayer, and others carry us. That is the mystery of the family of God.

Let us close by saying together the Lord's Prayer, as both our plea and our practice, as it is recorded in the Gospel of Luke:

> Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come.
> Give us each day our daily bread.
> Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us.
> And lead us not into temptation.


A sermon on the Lord's Prayer — bold intercession, daily bread, and the forgiveness we receive and share.

Our Father


*Delivered at Immanuel Church, Tel Aviv — April 26, 2025*

**Readings:** John 20:19–31

---

## Peace Be with You!

שלום עליכם!

These are the first words Jesus says to his frightened followers after his resurrection. His disciples, eleven minus Thomas, are hiding away in the upper room, where all twelve were present less than a week ago to hear "This is my body."

A lot has happened since the disciples were in that upper room earlier in the week:

- Jesus was betrayed by one of his disciples, and twelve became eleven.
- Jesus was then put on trial, and Jerusalem, which had welcomed him as a king a few days before, shouted, "Crucify!"
- Jesus was raised on the cross, died and was buried.

Then, some women told them all that they had seen Jesus alive again. Peter saw the empty tomb, and finally, Cleopas and his companion rushed in to say they had met Jesus on the road to Emmaus.

And now, back in this upper room these frightened, confused followers of Christ hear the words שלום עליכם, Peace be with you. It must have felt overwhelming!

These words aren't Jesus just saying "hello"; these words fulfil a promise Jesus had whispered to his disciples only four nights earlier:

> "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you… Do not let your hearts be troubled."

## Peace Forged in an Empty Tomb

The peace Jesus gives to his disciples is not the tranquillity of always having safe circumstances: Jerusalem is still dangerous, and Pilate and the Sanhedrin are still hunting for them.

But instead, it's the peace, the shalom that comes from having already broken the spine of humanity's oldest enemy, Death:

You may know the wonderful quote from one of St John Chrysostom's sermons,

> "Christ is risen, and death is overthrown!
> Christ is risen, and life reigns!"

But if death itself has actually been defeated, what power do lesser threats truly hold for each of us here this morning?

## Peace for Ordinary People

The room where the disciples are sitting could be described as a catalogue of human inadequacy — fishermen, a former tax collector, men who fled at the critical hour, two dusty travellers fresh from Emmaus, and likely some of the women who first saw that the tomb was empty, and all of these people weren't powerful, but they were hiding away in this room scared and frustrated. Weeks later, the Sanhedrin will go on and publicly dismiss this crew as "unschooled, ordinary men," yet even the council had to admit: "they had been with Jesus."

So what makes them special? Their only credential is Jesus himself. Jesus is the One who chose them. This collection of people will later become known as the ἐκκλησία, the Church.

And to that assembly, Jesus gives three things: peace, a commission, and the Holy Spirit.

## Peace Be with You Today

The time has passed, and in our turn, Jesus called us to join his ἐκκλησία.

The Church that Jesus founded is a new kind of community. And it's built on different foundations than any other community in our city. Here in Tel Aviv, this reality stands out quite well. It's not built on human foundations. It's built on Christ. Where else in this city can you walk in, enjoy a coffee or a snack, and feel safe just as you are? It's a space without demands, welcoming everyone coming in good faith.

For many of us who grew up in Christian cultures, we might take this for granted. But in our context, this sacred space becomes something extraordinary — a place where we meet our brothers and sisters in Christ. It's a place where we meet our family. It's a home. Our church is the one room where everyone can breathe the words that Jesus still speaks:

> "Peace be with you."

Even today, Jesus proclaims peace over the fearful, footsore, and the penniless, over men and women alike in his church. Our sole qualification for receiving this peace, like it was for those disciples back then, is that Jesus has called each one of us. This is both our blessing and our responsibility. Jesus has given us his peace to go out into the world and to offer God's peace to everyone we meet, by inviting them to come into his new community of peace, which is his church.

## The Great Commission

This is what Jesus said to his very first disciples:

> "As the Father has sent me, I am sending you."

Jesus didn't merely comfort his frightened disciples with peace — he immediately gave them purpose and a commission. They are "to go and tell the people about this new life." They are to proclaim the peace that only a risen Lord can give, and they are not to go alone.

Before his crucifixion, Jesus promised his disciples, "I will not leave you as orphans" and spoke of sending the Comforter. This giving of the Holy Spirit fulfils that promise — Jesus didn't just commission them to go and then leave them to do it all by themselves but instead he equipped them with his very presence.

When we became part of Christ's church, we have inherited both that same mission and that same promise. The words Jesus spoke that evening are for us: "As the Father has sent me, I am sending you."

Think about this: the same authority that sent the Son into the world now sends us. The same purpose that guided Jesus — to seek and save the lost, to proclaim good news to the poor, to set the captives free — now guides us.

The same Father who sent his Son now sends us through the Son.

But how can ordinary people like us fulfil such an extraordinary calling? The same way those first disciples did — not through our strength or wisdom, but through the gift that Jesus gave immediately after commissioning them, His holy Spirit.

## The Gift

Have you experienced the presence of God's Holy Spirit in your own life? The Holy Spirit comes as a gift in the purest sense — not as a reward for courage or faithfulness (which had faltered) but as freely given grace. Jesus doesn't list prerequisites or demand qualifications. He simply breathes on them and says, "Receive." This gift requires no conditions, just the willingness to accept it.

In that moment, Jesus reverses the disciples' spiritual poverty. They have nothing to offer except their need, precisely where his gift meets them. The Spirit comes not because they are worthy, but because Jesus is generous.

## What Does Receiving the Spirit Mean?

The disciples were fearful; the Holy Spirit made them courageous. They lacked understanding; the Spirit enlightened them. This pattern continues with us today — the Spirit completes us precisely where we fall short. As Paul discovered, God's power is "made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Our inadequacies become the very spaces where God's Spirit works most visibly.

As many of you know, I'm looking for a new job. I hate this process. I opened LinkedIn and saw that some companies boast of hiring only "the top 1% of engineers" or "the best of the best."

This got me thinking about our human tendency to measure worth by ability. Society tells us that everyone must be "good at something," which simply isn't true. Some people struggle with nearly everything they attempt. Others may excel in areas the world values, but these supposed talents are merely temporary conditions, not intrinsic qualities.

The truth is, none of us created whatever abilities we might temporarily possess. Any skill we have today could be gone tomorrow through injury, illness, or simply the passage of time. As the apostle Paul reminds us: "What do you have that you did not receive?" (1 Corinthians 4:7)

If you've seen my car, you understand that I'm not the best driver, yet I'm the right person to drive my son to school. I require the Holy Spirit even when dealing with a knife at home — I lack precision with my hands.

My prayers are quite primitive. I need the Holy Spirit when cutting vegetables, driving my son, and working with a computer. I must admit I need the Holy Spirit every moment of my life.

I don't trust myself in anything, but I trust the Lord and His promise.

This is the beautiful paradox of Christian life: we're most useful to God when we recognise our complete uselessness apart from Him. Our culture's obsession with excellence and achievement directly contradicts the economy of God's kingdom. The world says, "Discover your talent and leverage it." God says, "Recognise your emptiness and let me fill it."

Our omnipotent God could accomplish anything without us — He spoke the universe into existence without assistance. Yet He chooses to work through our inadequacies and limitations, making us co-workers in His kingdom precisely when we acknowledge that we bring nothing of our own to the table.

## From Receivers to Messengers of Forgiveness

This brings us to perhaps Jesus's most astonishing gift in that upper room — the authority to forgive sins.

> "If you forgive anyone's sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven."

At first glance, this seems impossible. Who are we to forgive sins? Only God can do that. Yet Jesus entrusts this proclamation to imperfect messengers like us.

The key is recognizing that we don't generate forgiveness; we announce it. The forgiveness itself was accomplished at the cross when Jesus said, "It is finished." What we carry is the responsibility to proclaim this truth that has already been won.

Through the Holy Spirit, we become living temples where God's wisdom about both forgiveness and judgment can be expressed. This is both a profound gift and a sobering responsibility.

For each of us, there will be moments when the Holy Spirit will ask us to speak difficult truths — sometimes to those we love, sometimes to those in positions of power. The hardest application comes when we look in the mirror. Sometimes we must learn to forgive ourselves when shame binds us to failures Christ has already covered. Other times, we must withhold easy self-forgiveness when genuine repentance hasn't taken root. Both require discernment that only the Spirit can provide.

What qualifies us for this ministry? Nothing except that Christ has called us and breathed His Spirit upon us. Our inadequacies don't disqualify us — they create the spaces where His power is perfected.

So today, as we carry Christ's forgiveness into a world desperate for reconciliation, remember that we go with His peace. Not a shallow tranquillity dependent on circumstances, but the deep שלום of knowing that death itself has been defeated. In our weakness, His power. In our inadequacy, His sufficiency. In our fear, His peace.

Peace be with you. !עליכם שלום

Amen.


A sermon on the peace Christ gives to ordinary, inadequate people — and the commission that follows.