Chapter 24: Father Deacon Michael

July 27, 1985, McKinley and Wapakoneta, Ohio

On Saturday morning we’d slept late, had breakfast, said our prayers, showered, dressed, and headed out to the car for the two-hour drive to Wapakoneta for Fran and Jason’s wedding. We couldn’t stay past 3:00pm, which meant we’d basically have to eat and run from the reception, as we had to be back in McKinley no later than 5:00pm. We’d each brought a change of clothes, and we’d change when we got to church. I’d wear my new cassock for the first time for Vespers, and then for my ordination which would take place in the morning.

The three previous days had been calm and quiet. Elizaveta and I had spent time with Jocelyn and Gene, Clarissa and Abby, and Mark and Alyssa, and had also spent a lot of time fooling around. I’d had a golf lesson Thursday morning and played a round of golf, poorly, with Viktor that afternoon. He and I had dinner at the club and Elizaveta went out with the girls from church.

Elizaveta’s new Apple Macintosh 512K and Epson dot-matrix printer had been delivered on Friday, and she’d set them up on a desk in the smaller bedroom, which was now very crowded with her sewing space, her computer desk, my study desk, and a bookshelf. That would present a problem when we had our first child, but that was a few years away, and something to worry about when Elizaveta was actually pregnant and a child was imminent. And on Friday evening, Elizaveta and I had dinner with my godparents, the Vikhrovs, and Elizaveta’s godparents, the Sokolovs, who were also our wedding sponsors.

“It’s strange that you could be one of Jason’s groomsmen but not one of Gene’s,” Elizaveta said as I turned onto US Route 33.

“I know, but it makes a weird kind of sense. Technically, in Jocelyn’s wedding, I’d be participating in a heterodox ceremony, which is forbidden. Back in the day, there was either a Christian, Jewish, or pagan ceremony, so nobody thought to ban purely secular weddings. It’s similar to why we can eat shellfish on fasting days - nobody thought to ban them because nobody ate them.

“In any event, they’re going for a simple ceremony - just a best man and one maid of honor. And Fran and Jason are doing the same thing, albeit with a judge rather than a Lutheran priest. It’ll be Pete today, and Gene’s brother next month. And there is absolutely nothing in our bishops’ application of the canons which prevents me from attending a Christian ceremony.”

“What about others?”

“Going into a mosque or synagogue would be problematic, though I know of «ekonomia» being granted in the case of a synagogue for a priest whose family was Jewish when his sister was getting married. Our bishops are not evil men, and they allow for the very different situation we have here in the US from pretty much any Orthodox country. If the canons were enforced strictly, I couldn’t even attend Jocelyn’s wedding. And, depending on how you read the canons against ordaining actors and actresses, they could technically include musicians. But you know the bishop has given permission for me to play in Code Blue, so long as we don’t play in inappropriate places.”

“When are you meeting them?”

“Not until José comes back full-time next month. He did say he’d be at my ordination, but the other members won’t. José and I will do the concert, but Code Blue will play one song at the end of each set, plus the third encore. Fortunately, our ‘White Coat’ ceremony is on Friday morning, so José and I can practice on Friday afternoon.”

“What are you going to do about the Wednesday night mandatory dinner?”

“They offered a vegetarian option, so I selected that. I don’t mind a plate full of vegetables! I do have one dilemma.”

“What’s that?”

“In yesterday’s mail, I received six tickets for the ‘White Coat’ ceremony. In the past, everyone got eight. Not sure why they reduced the number, but that means I really can’t invite Liz and Paul.”

“I can’t see how you can not invite our parents. What about extra tickets from Clarissa?”

“Her parents and Abby take three, and she planned to invite Sophia, Robby, and Lee. Fran is inviting her parents, Jason’s parents, her brother, and his sister. Sandy is in the same boat, basically.”

“You don’t have a choice, Mike.”

“Oh, I have a choice,” I replied. “It’s a question of whether or not I pour gasoline on the already burning bridge.”

“What happened to being nice? You know, like you told me with my mom?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to invite them,” I replied. “I simply said I actually had a choice. I’ll need to tell Liz and Paul they can’t come.”

“Maybe Dad could do something; he’s on the hospital board.”

“But is it fair for me to get extra tickets when nobody else can? I wouldn’t feel right asking for special treatment. So, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I think sometimes you’re too focused on others and not on yourself.”

“Exactly the opposite of what several people told me when I was in High School and after I first arrived at Taft.”

“You mean being obsessed with becoming a doctor?”

“Yes. It took a lot of effort to moderate the obsession into simply being focused. And that let me make new friends, and through those friends, I developed my ideas of equality.”

“Because of that dean you told me about?”

“She did force me to think about how to best treat everyone equally.”

“I totally get that, and I agree, but are you really going to turn down any advantage you might have because you know someone or have a friend who can help? That doesn’t make sense to me, at least so long as whatever you’re doing isn’t illegal or unethical or immoral. This doesn’t seem to fit into any of those. And nobody is being hurt. Let me ask my dad, OK? I know you really want Liz to be there.”

“I do,” I replied. “OK.”

“Good. I’ll do that when we get to church tonight.”

“I forgot to ask about today - is Tasha friends with Fran?”

“No. I don’t know that they’ve even spoken, except perhaps briefly at church or one of the parties. They weren’t invited today, but given they’re driving back this morning, it really didn’t matter. They’ll make it to McKinley just in time for Vespers.”

“It’s going to be very crowded tomorrow with basically everyone from Holy Transfiguration at the church!”

“Just like the wedding,” I replied. “It’s rare that the bishop authorizes a parish to not have services on Sunday morning, but given Deacon Vasily has to be here, and most of the parish was coming here, it made sense. So we’ll have the bishop, two priests, two deacons, and two subdeacons. It’s going to be VERY crowded in the altar!”

“Three deacons!”

“Well, yes, but not until after the anaphora, which is when the ordination occurs.”

“Will you serve Eucharist?”

“That is the usual practice,” I replied. “But given how many people we’ll have in the church, I suspect all three deacons will serve. After that, it’s up to Father Nicholas, but the usual practice will be for both of us to serve. At Holy Transfiguration, it’s usually just Deacon Vasily because the church is much smaller.”

“I find it so strange that when the bishop is serving at the church the priest really has nothing to do.”

“The priest represents the bishop, and that’s not necessary when the bishop is actually in the church. Remember, it’s the bishop’s church, and that’s why his antimens is on the altar. Without it, we couldn’t celebrate the Holy Mysteries.”

“You should do a talk to the High School and college kids about all this stuff, you know, what’s on the Holy Table, and so on. I bet most of them have no idea.”

“That’s actually a good idea for Sunday School when we start after Labor Day. I’ll check with Father Nicholas, but I’m sure he’ll be OK with it.”

Fran and Jason’s wedding was very short, though unlike Liz and Paul, Fran and Jason exchanged vows they had written themselves. I was surprised that they had decided on completely casual clothing - he was wearing slacks and a polo shirt and she was wearing a floral sundress. The reception began immediately after the ceremony, as they’d done all the photography beforehand, except for the ‘candid’ shots taken during the brief ceremony. That meant Elizaveta and I could eat and mingle for better than an hour before heading back to McKinley.

When we arrived, we went into the church and changed clothes in the conference room, and I put on my new blue cassock which was now my default outer clothing, though I would wear a ryassa over it when I was outside.

“That looks very good on you, Mike,” Viktor said when Elizaveta and I walked into the narthex.

“Thanks,” I replied. “And thank you, and everyone else who contributed, for the vestments.”

“You’re welcome!”

Vespers was normal, as the bishop elected not to serve, sitting instead in his throne on the kafedra. When the service ended, Elizaveta and I joined Vladyka ARKADY in Father Nicholas’ office.

“Are you prepared, Subdeacon?” he asked once we’d received his blessing.

“I’m not quite sure how to answer that,” I replied.

“Truthfully is usually a good place to start,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

“I’m not sure I could ever be truly prepared for something I’ve never done. I trust in your discernment that I am properly prepared.”

“You have no reservations?”

“Beyond my own concerns about my unworthiness? No. Again, I trust your discernment.”

“And there is nothing which you’re aware of that would disqualify you?”

“Nothing of which I’m aware, Your Grace.”

“And Elizaveta, you know of no reason why Michael should not be ordained?”

“None, Your Grace.”

“And you’re prepared to take on the shared portion of his ministry?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good. I see no reason not to proceed with your ordination in the morning, Mischa.”

“As you command, Vladyka.”

“Then I will see you in the morning.”

Elizaveta and I both stood, asked the bishop’s blessing, and having received it, walked out to the car. I didn’t take off my cassock as I usually did, instead, I simply got into the driver’s seat.

“How do women drive in dresses?” I asked Elizaveta as I shifted, moving the material around so I could work the pedals comfortably.

“Practice!” she replied, laughing. “You should try it in heels!”

“No thanks!”

“I keep a pair of flats in my car for when I need to wear heels, which isn’t very often.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in heels.”

“I don’t think you have. They’re not appropriate for church, and we haven’t done anything ‘dressy’ that required heels. And honestly, I can’t imagine when I’d wear them in the future. I’ve seen how Matushka Natalya and Matushka Anastasia dress and I should dress the same way - dresses or skirts which reach my shins, flat shoes, and conservative blouses if I’m wearing a skirt.”

“And bikinis?” I asked.

She smacked my arm, “In private! I’ll wear jeans or shorts around the house, just as you will.”

“What about school?”

“I’ve always mixed and matched, so nobody will be surprised to see me in skirts and blouses or dresses. And gym class isn’t a problem because of what Vladyka said about going to the beach.”

“I’ll leave those decisions up to you,” I replied. “With the caveat that you give your mom the respect you demand from her.”

“I still don’t agree with you!”

“On the fact that she’s due respect?”

“No, of course not! But she has to respect ME! And our marriage!”

“Yes, and that’s something for your dad and Father Nicholas to deal with. Why make their jobs harder by provoking her?”

“Because you’re letting her win!” Elizaveta protested fiercely.

“No, Kitten, I’m not. I’m simply looking at the long-term. If you do things my way, the problem will simply cease to exist. If you fight the way you want to, it’ll turn into an all-out war. If you don’t fight, and follow my plan, she’ll surrender in fairly short order.”

“Which means?”

“I can’t promise specific timelines, but give your dad and Father Nicholas some time. And YOU make the decision as to what we do with regard to holidays. My suggestion is we invite Paul and Liz to our house for Thanksgiving, and for Christmas, we celebrate on our own together, then go to my grandfather’s house in the afternoon. That has the double benefit of not pitting our parents against each other. But I’ll leave it up to you; just think about it, and come up with what you want to do. But do it because it’s the right thing to do, not because you want to prove anything to your mom.”

“My mom will pitch a fit!”

“Yes, she will; and you’ll tell her that we’ll celebrate with them next year.”

“What about not fighting?”

“It’s all a matter of balance, at least as I see it. By going to my grandparents’ house, we support Liz and Paul, and put my parents on the back foot, as it were.”

“Wait! Now you’re saying fight with BOTH sets of parents?”

“It’s called strategically picking your battles, something my karate instructor often spoke about.”

“You’re confusing me! And why do YOU get to pick which battles we fight?”

“Didn’t I say I would leave it up to you? I gave my opinion, and asked you to consider it before you decided.”

Elizaveta didn’t respond until after I had pulled into the driveway about five minutes later.

“It’s a trap!” she protested.

“OK, Admiral Akbar,” I chuckled, “What’s the trap?”

“If I decide, I can’t complain about the decision! And if I don’t do it your way, I can’t complain to you!”

“The secret of a long and happy marriage,” I chuckled. “Courtesy of Mr. Sokolov!”

“Men!” she huffed.

“Doesn’t it stand to reason that, over the centuries, Russian men have learned how to live happily with Russian women? And that they might pass on that advice just as the «бабушки съборъ» passes on THEIR collected wisdom on how to control the world? Be glad I’m not resorting to the usual method of coping and rebellion - vodka!”

“You’re saying Russian men have to be drunk to be happy?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Evidence does suggest that,” I chuckled. “At least for the married men!”

“And what about YOU, husband?”

“Our generation is different. We aren’t immigrants or the children of immigrants, and have purposefully and intentionally rejected Russian values for American ones, save those which are a part of Church tradition. That means proper equality in our marriage, sharing the tasks and sharing the decisions.”

We got out of the car, grabbed our gym bags which held the clothes we’d worn to the wedding, and headed around the main house to the cottage.

“But you told me to decide!” she protested as I unlocked the door and we went inside.

“Well, in the end, somebody does have to decide if we don’t agree, and on this particular issue, I’m leaving it to you. There will be plenty where I have to decide, especially when the decision impacts my studies or our ministry. I promise to listen to you, and make the best decision I’m able to make. And the same should be true for you in areas where we agree you should make the decisions.”

“And if we can’t decide who decides?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“I’m hoping that the times when we can’t reach a compromise position are few and far between, but if they do arise, then we have access to the resources of the church, including our godparents, our sponsors, Father Nicholas, and Vladyka ARKADY, as well as secular counselors. I can’t imagine there’s a problem for which we won’t be able to find a solution, either for ourselves, or with help from others.”

“It would be easier if you just let ME decide!”

“Yes, because all-out war with your mom is conducive to a healthy marriage, especially given where we live.”

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Marriage?” I asked, doing my best to sound serious, though I was teasing.

“No, you idiot! Living here! I want to be married. I want to be married to you!”

“Oh,” I replied flatly.

“Don’t try to be smart with me, husband!”

“But it’s so much fun!” I replied with a grin. “Anyway, we can make living here work, and, honestly, not having to borrow any money actually makes us more free.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We’ll have no debt when I graduate, and in the meantime, we have enough money to do the things we want to do and buy the things we want to buy. And, if you follow my plan, your mom will be in no position to control anything. You will be the mistress of your own domain.”

“I’m not sure ‘mistress’ is the best term for a matushka!”

I chuckled, “That word does have other meanings, just as ‘madam’ does. But you understand my point, right?”

“That if I calm down and let things progress, I’ll be in control the way I want.”

“With regard to your mom, yes. I do not intend to be a normal Russian husband!”

“Care to bet on that?” she asked with a smug look on her face.

“Is that REALLY what you want, Kitten? Truthfully?”

“It would make you unhappy, so, no, I guess not.”

“It’s all about compromise, which I know is a dirty word amongst certain segments of that older adult female contingent at church.”

“And you think you are singlehandedly going to fix it?”

“Only my little part of it. It’s up to the other men to either fix or deal with their situations!”

“So, I need fixing?”

I chuckled, “No, just a bit of tempering and experience.”

“You think I’m volatile?”

“That word might have crossed my mind once or twice when you’ve been upset!”

“How do you stay so calm?”

I shrugged, “I’ve mostly always been this way. It takes a lot to get me seriously worked up. It took YEARS for Dean Parker to make me upset enough to actually do something about it other than try to ignore her. The same was true for that pastor I debated. I don’t want to stop the conversation, but do you mind if I change?”