Chapter 29: The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

October 20, 1984, West Monroe, Ohio

"Please do not let my parents bait you into an emotional response," I said to Elizaveta as I turned off Route 50 in West Monroe.

"You think they will?"

"I have no idea; I just wanted to warn you."

"Paul seems really nice," Elizaveta said. "And yes, it was bad that he broke the law, but he and Liz are getting married. So, in the end, they're doing the right thing. You're five years older than I am, and right now, I'm only about a year older than Liz was."

"Which is why we're waiting until after we're married; well, part of the reason. The other part is not wanting to try to explain to Father Nicholas why we couldn't be chaste."

"Because it's fun and feels good?" Elizaveta smirked. "At least according to Marjorie!"

"She's the one you mean when you say 'girls talk'?"

"One of them. I know the boys at school talk about it, too!"

"I did," I chuckled. "All the time. And I hadn't even done it!"

"She's jealous because we'll be able to sleep in the same bed together every night. Her boyfriend has a pickup truck. They have a private place they park."

"That has to be cold during the Winter!" I chuckled.

"They just started doing it in May!" Elizaveta countered. "She said they use blankets, but if it's cold and snowy out? Brrr!"

"You seem to know a bit more than you let on," I grinned as I turned onto the road which led past my parents' house.

"We're a couple now, so I can be freer with what I say. And my mom and grandmothers aren't where they might hear!"

"So, the prim, proper, faithful Elizaveta talks about sex all the time with her friends?" I asked with a grin.

"Not ALL the time, silly! Girls are just as interested in sex as boys are. But people think we're not supposed to be, so we're careful. Boys will talk about it in the hallway at school or wherever."

"True, though I was more like you. Mostly, I only talked about it with my friend Dale. Jocelyn would get really upset with us if we talked about it when she was around. That was especially true if her boyfriend Carl was there."

"You were dating the girl from High School then, right? The one you were steady with, but who wouldn't go to church with you?"

"April? Yes."

"You dated for the entire school year?"

"Yes. She, Jocelyn, Carl, Dale, Stacey, and I had triple dates just about every week. The other couples broke up by the end of the Summer because Carl went into the Navy and Dale went to UW-Madison."

"And you dated your sister's friend, Emmy, right?"

"Until her dad found out that I had a black roommate, and then he forbade her from seeing me or hanging out with Liz, despite them being best friends."

"Would Emmy have gone to church with you?"

"It never got that serious. Basically, I needed a date for the Summer with our group, and she asked if I'd take her out."

"So, like me?"

"Not quite," I chuckled. "She specifically said she wasn't interested in getting married or having kids until after she graduated and went to college. You heard her say she's working on an Associate's in Criminal Justice so she can apply to the Sheriff's department. She's dating, but she still isn't thinking about marriage and kids for at least two more years, which would make her twenty-one or twenty-two. That's more common than what we're doing."

I pulled past my parents' house as usual, then backed into the driveway. I shut off the engine and put the car in first gear, then set the parking brake. Elizaveta and I got out, and she walked around the car, and then we walked up the front walk together. Because of the situation, I briefly contemplated ringing the bell but decided it was OK to just walk in. I opened the door and let Elizaveta in, then followed her and shut the door behind us.

"Hi, Mom," I said.

Mom got up from the living room couch and came over to us.

"Hi, Mike; hi, Elizaveta."

"Hello, Mrs. Loucks."

"Where's Dad?" I asked.

"His workshop."

"Does he plan to stay there?" I asked.

"I don't know. I've made some tea — your grandfather's special blend. Come sit in the kitchen, and we'll talk."

We followed her to the kitchen and sat down, and she poured tea for the three of us.

"Did you kids get lunch?" she asked.

"We ate at Skyline Chili in Cincinnati after we left Angie's house."

"How is she doing?"

"Good, actually. She's almost back to what amounts to normal for her. But she's not cured if that's what you're asking."

"I was hoping."

"I've held out that hope since her first meltdown. Anyway, how was your talk with Liz? It's OK to talk in front of Elizaveta and say whatever you want. Consider her my wife, for all intents and purposes."

"Mike..." she said, her voice implying a warning.

"I'm not an idiot," I replied gently. "And I also have to answer to Father Nicholas and the bishop."

"We're not going to make love until we marry, Mrs. Loucks," Elizaveta said. "We agreed with each other, and we promised Father Nicholas."

"About Liz?" I prompted.

"She's stubborn."

"She comes by that naturally," I replied. "Russian culture, chrism, and a pair of X chromosomes, one of which is Dutch and one of which is Russian."

"What are you trying to say?"

"That you can be just as stubborn. So can I. So can Dad. It's the one trait everyone in this family shares, including both grandfathers. Mostly, it's good because it means we don't give up easily. In this case, it's a disaster because we won't budge from our positions."

"And you think your dad and I are the only ones who should budge?"

"I think the bottom line is that Liz and I both need to make our own way in the world, chart our own course, and be who we want to be. Just as I'm sure you did. Dad is a bit different because of the straitjacket his old church put on him. I understand the need for parents to control at least some aspects of their kids' lives when those kids are living at home, but once they move out, it's not up to the parents what happens."

"You don't think parents have an obligation to protect their kids?"

"Yes, but it's different once the kids are adults in their own right. And society says that's at eighteen. Elizaveta and I need permission from the government to marry. Paul and Liz don't. Well, they need a license, but that's granted automatically if they're both single and aren't first cousins. We need a judge to sign off, and that means Mr. and Mrs. Kozlov have to agree. That's not the case with Liz and Paul."

"But you think she's making a mistake, right?"

"I think she's taking a risk," I replied. "Only time will tell if it's a mistake. I advised against it, remember. She knows I don't approve, but she also knows I love her enough to set my disapproval aside in favor of her choice. In a sense, it's like my friends Robby and Lee. I can't sanction their relationship, but I have to set aside my disapproval in favor of their choice. Is it a sin? Absolutely. Do they know I believe that? They do. Do they know I love them? Absolutely.

"What are my options at that point? Refuse to associate with them? Then I lose all my other friends, too. What kind of witness is THAT? And, may I remind you, YOU taught me to be loving, kind, tolerant, and non-judgmental. And I'm going to remind you about something you said when we were discussing Katy a few years ago. You said that perhaps the most difficult thing for a parent to do is to NOT interfere in the lives of their adult children."

Mom was quiet for a moment.

"I guess I'm having trouble with my kids growing up and that I couldn't protect Liz from what happened."

"And I couldn't protect Jocelyn from her accident or Angie from her mental illness."

"It's different with your own kids."

I nodded, "I won't argue with that, and I saw how Mrs. Stephens is feeling. But, in the end, it's all about how we deal with the fact that we can't always protect everyone. And, to be honest, at this moment, Liz doesn't need protection; she needs love. Paul is doing his best to put his life back together after a serious lapse in judgment. He's working hard, following all the rules set by his parole officer, and from everything I can see, he loves Liz. She loves him, too, which actually puts them a step ahead of Elizaveta and me."

"You do understand the situations are very different, right?"

"Yes, Paul and Liz are both over eighteen and free to do as they choose."

"Mike, stop it! You know that's not the point."

"But it is," I countered. "That is completely the point. What happened in the past is in the past. It has to be. Paul isn't Orthodox, but if he repents and turns from his sins, God will forgive him just as he forgives us when we go to Confession and then receive the Eucharist. There is no salvation outside of Jesus Christ, but the Orthodox Church, unlike the Romans, does not claim to be the exclusive source and font of God's grace! Our bishops are icons of Christ, not his designated spokesmen. A bishop without his congregation is nothing. True repentance is the same, inside the church or outside it, and as such, Paul should have 'no further care' for his sins, and neither should you nor I."

"You sound like Father Herman."

"I should! You took me to church to be baptized, and my first memory of anything, is you holding me up to kiss the icon of the Theotokos when I was about two. From the time I can remember homilies, which I guess was when I was about six, I've listened to Father Herman, and to the bishop. And now, to Father Nicholas. I really OUGHT to sound like them, and if I don't, then someone should tell the bishop he's making a grave error with his decision to ordain me.

"But you know what? I don't actually sound like Father Herman, or Father Nicholas, or Vladyka ARKADY. Do you know who I sound like? You; I sound like you. I'm not saying anything to you that you haven't said to me from the time I was little. You taught me to love God, to be faithful, and to live my faith. I'm doing that exactly the way you taught me. I know bad things have happened, and I brought them to your attention, though perhaps I could have done a better job. But we can't let those bad things control our lives. If we do, then Satan wins because we despair of God's power to cause all things to work together for good. It's through adversity that we find our true strength.

"Fundamentally, the Russian saying 'Life is suffering' fits quite well because we use our God-given freedom for our own selfish purposes, driven by our uncontrollable fear of our mortality. That is the root cause of sin of any kind. Christ died to conquer death, and by death, sin. It wasn't a battle with sin; it was a battle with mortality. If it was just about living a sinless life, then the Resurrection was completely unnecessary. If the battle was with mortality, then the Resurrection is the key to everything. Guess where Orthodox theology is focused? I seem to recall a big party in the Springtime celebrating something important."

"Mrs. Loucks," Elizaveta asked quietly, "what happens if, at some point in the future, Mike and I make a decision you don't like? Will you refuse to see your grandchildren because of that?"

"That's the same question my dad, Mike's grandfather, asked me," Mom replied.

"Does Dad know you saw Liz?" I asked.

"No."

"OK. I'm going to talk to him. You should stay here, «Котёнок» (katyonak)." ("Kitten")

My mom rolled her eyes, which I was sure was about the use of the pet name. I got up and went down to the basement. I took a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly, and then went to my dad's workshop and sat down on the stool in the corner.

"Hi, Dad," I said.

"Mike," he replied flatly, not looking up from his lathe.

"Elizaveta is here with me. Would you at least come up and say 'hello' to your future daughter-in-law?"

He stopped what he was doing and turned to look at me, arms crossed and a sour look on his face.

"To give approval for you doing the same thing Paul did?"

"Is THAT what this is about? That's your REAL issue?"

"She's fifteen, for God's sake!" my dad protested.

"Yes, she is. She'll be sixteen in April, and, as she made clear to Mom a few minutes ago, we won't consummate our relationship until we're married. She's six years younger than I am, and when I'm thirty, and she's twenty-four, nobody would blink at the age difference. The same is actually true for Liz now — she's eighteen, and Paul is twenty-eight. Nobody will blink. Was she too young to do what she did at fourteen? Probably. Was Paul wrong? I think so, given the circumstances, which are fundamentally different from Elizaveta's and mine.

"As I said to Mom, past sins, once repented, are forgiven, and we're to have 'no further care' for them. And if we have repented, and God puts those sins from his memory, then who are we, as individuals, to hold that sin against someone? Yes, in certain circumstances, grave sin disqualifies us from ministry, but that's actually an acknowledgment of how the WORLD sees us, not how we as Christians are supposed to see ourselves."

"So you think it's OK for a serial fornicator who marries an underage girl to be a deacon?"

"I think that's up to Father Nicholas and Vladyka ARKADY to decide. I've confessed and repented of my sin."

"After enjoying it for a few years."

"I am making no excuses for sin, and I have no belief I'm anywhere near her level of holiness, but Mary of Egypt is a Saint of the Church, and I'm sure you know her story. So is Blessed Augustine of Hippo, despite his problematic theology and his desire to postpone chastity. I believe you know his story as well.

"My point is that repentance is the key. And Paul — Reynolds, not the Holy Apostle — has repented and turned away from his past sins just as his patron did. Paul Reynolds pled guilty, served his time, and is completing his parole. He's employed and working hard. He loves Liz, and she loves him. She made her mistakes as well, and she's repented of them. She has a job and is going to school."

"And you see absolutely nothing wrong with marrying an underage girl?"

"She won't be underage when we marry. The age of consent in Ohio is sixteen. And we'll need a judge's approval to marry, the same as Sasha Antonova needed to marry Yaroslav. Elizaveta's parents and grandparents approve, as does Father Nicholas, as does the bishop. And as I've said before, in a few years, the age difference will be completely irrelevant."

"Pedophilia is OK so long as it's sanctioned?"

"In psychology class, and in my reproductive physiology class, it was made clear that 'pedophilia' refers specifically to interest in pre-pubescents, NOT teenagers. Remember, Paul was convicted of statutory rape, which means the state agrees Liz willingly had sex, but that legally she couldn't consent. If she hadn't passed puberty, or if she hadn't willingly had sex with him, it would have been a regular rape charge, and he'd be doing twenty years to life. And, again, Elizaveta will be sixteen when we marry, which the state says is old enough to consent."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" he said with disgust.

"Not even close," I replied. "But I do have answers to questions which are important in my life. What are you going to do when Liz and Paul have kids? Refuse to see your grandchildren? Refuse to let Mom see them? Refuse to have a family Christmas celebration because you've decided Liz is beyond redemption? You know where I'll be on Christmas if that happens."

"Giving your full approval and support for her behavior."

"We're going to go around in circles, which makes no sense to me. All I can say is I love her, and I'm acting out of love. What you do at this point is up to you. I am grateful that you're coming to my wedding and ordination, and I hope, somehow, you can see your way clear to let Liz know you love her."

"I'm dealing with her the way I am because I love her!"

I suppressed a groan. One of the basic tenets of his brand of Protestantism was that God's righteous anger and judgment were displays of love, and that God hated sins and sinners so much, that only judgment was possible, though he relented, barely, for the 'elect'. That was the exact opposite of what the Orthodox Church taught, whereby judgment was the last resort and only came about if the sinner rejected God's love. In other words, we judged ourselves. There was no notion of 'sinners in the hands of an angry God' in Orthodox soteriology. Sinners were in their OWN angry hands when they rejected God's love.

"Dad," I said carefully, "that's not the Christian approach. I know that's what your old church taught, but it's wrong. God's love is so overwhelming, so infinite, that as the Scriptures say, He 'so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son for us'. God's justice is tempered by His love; justice doesn't override love. Christ came to call sinners to repentance, not for the self-righteous."

"That's how you see me? Self-righteous? You, the one who's preaching at me and acting 'holier than thou'?"

"I have never once said I'm not a sinner. You know I am. I know I am. So do the priests and the bishop, and most importantly, God knows. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't live my life according to my faith as best I can, even if I stumble and fall, which I do. I guess at this point, my only question is whether or not you'll come upstairs and talk with Elizaveta."

"No."

"Then I'm going back upstairs. I love you, Dad."

I got up from the stool, waited a few seconds for a response, and when he turned back to his workbench, I left the workshop and went back upstairs.

"You look unhappy, Mike," Mom said.

"No progress," I replied. "And he tried to make it worse, actually."

"His objection to you and Elizaveta?"

"Yes. He voiced it quite clearly and, in a way, intended to get a rise out of me. I didn't take the bait. Do YOU object?"

"That question doesn't have a simple answer."

"Sure it does," I replied. "Either you object, or you don't. Forget Dad's opinion for now."

"It's not black and white, no matter what you think," Mom said. "If you were steady with a plan to get engaged in a few years and married when Elizaveta was eighteen or nineteen, that would be different from the idea of marrying in May. You're basically rushing into something to which a lot of people will object simply because you want to meet the bishop's timeline."