Chapter 22: Preparations

July 20, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"What did you decide about next week?" Elizaveta asked as we showered after an afternoon of lovemaking.

"I'm not sure it's the best idea to add additional tension to this coming week. Let's just stick to the extra prayers and leave it at that."

"But if you think it's wrong..."

"Remember what I said about Great Lent? The same thing applies. And neither Father Nicholas nor Vladyka ARKADY has suggested following that rule. Or have you had enough?"

"No way!" she giggled. "Never!"

"I'll remember that when you're eight months pregnant!"

"THAT'S DIFFERENT!" she protested.

"You did say 'never'. I heard that quite distinctly!"

"Are you always going to be this difficult?"

"Only for the next seventy or eighty years!"

We finished our shower, dried off, dressed, had a light dinner, and then headed to church for Vespers. I put on my black cassock, Elizaveta went to the parish office to see Mrs. Sokolov, and then I joined Father Nicholas in the vestry.

"How are things?" he asked after I received his blessing.

"Europe was great, just as I said when we chatted briefly yesterday. Unfortunately, there are 'parent problems' all around."

"I can't imagine you and Viktor have any problems."

"Only the women we're married to! The actual conflict is between Yulia and Elizaveta, with Viktor and me caught in the crossfire, if you will."

"Do you have time to talk after Vespers?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then let's vest and prepare for Vespers."

"Father, just so you know, there are conflicts with my parents as well."

"OK," he replied, a look of resignation on his face.

I retrieved my vestments, asked Father for his blessing, then put them on and began setting up for Vespers. Mark had already lit the votive lamps in the nave, had refilled the candle box, and was standing quietly near the north Deacon Door. I lit the votive lamps on the altar, something I could only do with «ekonomia» from the bishop, as only a bishop, priest, or deacon was permitted to touch the altar or anything on it. The votive lamps were the one thing I was permitted to touch, though that would change in a week's time.

An hour later, when Vespers had ended, I spoke briefly with Tasha, was greeted by the Sokolovs and others, and then Elizaveta and I went to meet with Father Nicholas in his office. We spent the first ten minutes recapping my talk with my mom, my talk with Liz, and Elizaveta's interaction with her parents, the last one causing a minor eruption of Mount Kitten.

"What?!" she demanded fiercely. "You think I SHOULD have called her?!"

"Elizaveta," Father Nicholas said gently, "please relax. Subdeacon Michael's solution was meant to keep the peace, not allow your mother to control your life. It was, to be honest, a very wise and reasonable compromise."

"But she would have felt like she won!" my wife protested.

"But would she, really?" he asked. "A pair of phone calls seems polite, respectful, and eminently reasonable. Please don't take this the wrong way, but you are still sixteen, and I am sure your parents worry about you."

"I have Mike! He'll take care of me! And my dad doesn't seem worried!"

"He is, Kitten," I replied gently. "He's just wise enough not to interfere."

"He trusts you, Mike," Father Nicholas said, "and that's key. If he didn't, he'd never have agreed to your marriage nor recommended you for the diaconate. And, to be honest, in my experience as a pastor, I've found that dads let go easier than moms, at least once their daughters are safely married."

"EXCUSE ME!" Elizaveta objected vehemently. "What am I? A piece of property?"

"Relax, Kitten," I soothed. "Dads are concerned about protecting their daughters; well, their sons, too, but not in the same way. It's why my dad has gone completely off the deep end, and, to be honest, with some good reason. The problem, if you will, is that he's unable to see that Paul has always loved Liz despite his completely sinful behavior."

"And our Christian walk is made difficult by our sins," Father Nicholas said. "And also by seeing the sins of others, especially when they hurt the ones we love. That's where Mike's dad is struggling."

"I just don't see why I should give an inch to my mom," Elizaveta protested. "She'll take a mile!"

"I don't remember for sure whether it was Ann Landers or Dear Abby who wrote it," Father Nicholas said, "but people can only take advantage of you if you let them. You two had the locks changed on your house, which stopped the invasion of privacy, and your father supported that move wholeheartedly. Calling your mom the way Mike suggested would have made it on your terms as a couple.

"There would be nothing your mom could have forced you to do beyond that, but you could point to it to say you understood her concern and so you made those two calls. In a sense, it's no different from Mike calling me to say he was home safely and me relaying that information to His Grace."

"But still!" Elizaveta objected, continuing her protest. "She thinks she can run my life!"

Father Nicholas nodded, "Yes, she does. And the way to reduce or eliminate that thinking is to conduct your life properly as an adult and, as Mike put it, kill her with kindness. Give her absolutely no legitimate reason to complain. What do you think would have happened if you made those two calls and she came to me to complain?"

"You would have told her I was married," Elizaveta admitted begrudgingly. "And you would have told her that Mike was looking out for me and that she knew I was safe from those calls."

"Yes. And at that point, if she continued to make an issue of it, it would be a pastoral concern, not a family squabble, so to speak. Think about what your dad would have said, too."

"I get it," Elizaveta replied evenly, the magma bubbling just below the surface.

"I think, ultimately, that it's going to quiet down on its own, so long as you follow Mike's lead. The situation with his family is far more complex and, frankly, leaves me baffled and at a loss as to what to do. It's really a pastoral concern for Father Herman, but it affects our parish as well, especially given Mike's upcoming ordination. I'm afraid that Father Herman and I might have to take this to His Grace, though not until after next Sunday. They are going to be here, right Mike?"

"That is what my mom said."

"OK. I'll discuss this with Father Herman. I'm sure you've said something to Liz, but it might help if they came to church and Paul was chrismated."

"That is, at least for now, a non-starter. I do think Liz will have her kids baptized when she has them, merely because she knows how much that means to me. It's a start, but I don't know how much further it will go. And I can talk to my nieces or nephews when the time comes. Liz will do her best to counter what I say, but she won't be angry with me saying it."

"Keep that relationship with your sister healthy, Mike," Father Nicholas advised. "A quiet, loving witness is probably the only way to change her heart. And even if not, it's the Christian thing to do."

"Saying that is what really set off my mom," I replied.

"Understandable, given the predicament in which she finds herself. For now, Mike, just be polite and let Father Herman and me handle this."

"Yes, Father," I agreed.

"Are you two having any trouble?"

I looked to Elizaveta because it really was up to her to answer that question with regard to the revelations I'd made to her.

"No," she said carefully. "We're getting to know each other and learning how each of us thinks and reacts."

"One of the difficulties with a short engagement is not knowing the other person as well as you might want, which is why we went through some of those exercises in pre-marital counseling. I think I'd like to hear both your confessions now, if you're willing."

I nodded, and Elizaveta agreed, so the three of us went to the nave. I sat in the back while Father heard Elizaveta's confession, and for the first time in my life, I found myself wondering what someone was saying during confession. I'd had stray thoughts like that before, but this was no stray thought, and it was something I really needed to avoid doing, or I'd forever be suspicious of my wife. After she finished her confession, she walked to the other side of the nave, and I went forward to stand by Father Herman. After the usual prayers, he asked what was on my heart.

"The first thing is that while Elizaveta was confessing, I couldn't help but wonder what she was saying."

"Not uncommon, but also not spiritually healthy. There are two levels of trust here — one, your trust in your wife to not hide anything important from you; and second, your trust in me to counsel married couples to be open and honest with each other. Among other things, it serves as a check on our willingness to fall into temptation. Your spouse should be your first 'accountability partner' before you even approach the sacrament of penance. And one thing you'll discover in a decade or so is that there are no better 'sin detectors' than our own children. I think you've experienced that from the other side."

"Yes, though that, too, tempts me to sin."

"The subtle traps are the most dangerous, Subdeacon. To put it in terms of your own weakness, it's not the girl who throws herself at you or blatantly offers to go to bed with you who is dangerous; it's the one with whom you become too comfortable, and before you realize it, sin is staring you in the face. That's where you need to be most careful, Michael."

I nodded, "I understand, and I agree with you. Elizaveta has a legitimate concern, obviously, based on my past behavior."

"There are no slip-ups, Michael. No mulligans."

"I'm well aware. His Grace wouldn't have the opportunity to laicize me unless it was done in the same way the Romans did with Pope Formosus at the 'Cadaver Synod'."

"Russian women do not get any less feisty with age!"

"So I've noticed," I replied with a wry smile.

"What else is on your heart, Michael?"

"The situation with my mom," I replied. "I can't help but think I made it worse simply by not talking to Liz first."

"There's hardly a sin in a decision like that."

"And yet, it had a detrimental outcome."

"You'll find, Subdeacon, that even the best spiritual advice and the best intentions may fail."

"The road to Hades?"

"That was the implication. All I can say is that within the bounds permitted by your ordination, consider carefully any advice you give and any actions you take. You'll still fall short because we're all dealing with, and subject to, mortal flesh. Failure is going to happen as a doctor as well, and I strongly, strongly encourage you to seek counsel from Doctor Evgeni in addition to coming to me, or to His Grace.

"The first patient who dies under your care is going to create tremendous spiritual and emotional difficulty because of your nature. And it's no different in the spiritual realm as it is in the medical realm — we can't save everyone, no matter how determined we are. That's not an attempt to minimize the pain and loss, but to remind us that even when we do our best, with the help of God's grace, we will still fail."

"I'm going to assume you had a situation like that?"

"About twelve years ago, one of our college students committed suicide, despite the best efforts of her secular counselor, her doctor, her parents, and myself."

"I remember that vaguely; there was a lot of gossip."

"There always is," Father Nicholas sighed, "And it's a tiresome task combatting it. More harm has been done to parishes over the years by gossip thinly disguised as a 'prayer request' than anything I can think of; the Holy Apostle Paul had to deal with it, and it's been a problem down to our day."

"I'm curious if you think there's something else I could have done? Or something different?"

"Hindsight is 20/20, but in this case, and given what's going on, I'm not sure anyone could have done better. As I said in my office, allow Father Herman and me to work on this."

"Yes, Father."

"Anything else?"

"I had incredibly few opportunities to sin in Europe because I don't think I was out of Elizaveta's sight for more than perhaps two hours over the five weeks we were there!"

"Yes, and it's when you aren't in her sight that the temptations will pile on, and not just from young women. Your studies and your ministry will provide ample opportunity to fall."

"Thanks for the pep talk," I replied with just enough sarcasm to make my point.

"I know you know, Subdeacon, but you also knew you were sinning in the past. I'm not recalling the sins but the mentality which led to them. If there's nothing else, then I'll say the prayers of absolution."

"No change in my rules?"

"I don't think that's necessary from what you've said, do you?"

"No. But I might not be the best judge."

"You've always been your own harshest critic, though I think that might have changed."

I fought the laughter that threatened to break out, "You think?"

He smiled, and I bowed my head. Father Nicholas put his epitrachil over my head and shoulders, said the prayers of absolution, made the sign of the cross on the epitrachil, and then bade me to 'depart in peace and have no further care' for the sins which I had confessed.

"See you in the morning, Mike," he said.

"Thanks, Father."

After receiving his blessing, Elizaveta and I left the church. I took off my cassock, and we got into my new Mustang.

"That felt weird," Elizaveta said as I pulled out of the parking lot.

"So it wasn't just me!" I replied, reminding myself to turn left to head home rather than right to head to Taft, something my muscle memory and neural pathways wanted to do.

"You felt the same way?"

"Yes. To be honest, I was wondering what you were saying."

"You were concerned I might say something that got you in trouble?"

"Actually," I said with a slight smile, "it was more about what would happen if we said things which contradicted each other."

"But if we both tell the truth, how could that happen?"

"If we don't tell each other the truth, especially about how we're feeling."

"You don't think I've been honest with you?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"I don't think that at all," I replied. "But my mom told me that the two most dangerous women in the world were Miss Understanding and Miss Communication."

Elizaveta laughed, "That's cute!"

"It's also true. It's very important that we make sure we tell each other if we're unhappy or dissatisfied or upset; if we don't, we'll end up with serious problems. And, before you say anything, you've been doing a good job of that."

Elizaveta smirked, "And you've been doing a good job of keeping me satisfied!"

"I shall endeavor to continue to do my husbandly duties in a satisfactory manner."

"Good!" she giggled.

July 21, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

Sunday morning was, for all intents and purposes, the same as every other Sunday stretching back twenty-two years, albeit with the variable hymns for July 21st sung at Matins and during the Divine Liturgy. The homily was about the Prophet Ezekiel, who was commemorated on the 21st of July of each year.

When the services ended, we had a short fellowship time with coffee and bagels, and then Mark and I set up the nave for the wedding. There wasn't a lot to do, really, though we had to dodge the women who were bringing in flowers, candles, and lace bunting, very similar to what had been done for Elizaveta and me. When Mark and I finished, we went to get more coffee.

"Would you speak to Mr. Sokolov for us?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I replied. "You'll both want hours, right?"

"Yes. If we can have jobs lined up, I think we can convince our parents to help cover our costs of renting the apartment over the Quick Mart, if it's available."

"I'll speak to Mr. Sokolov at the reception. It's not quite the same as asking a Sicilian on the day of his daughter's wedding, but he and his wife are Elizaveta's godparents and are also our sponsors."

"I'm curious, but do you think Father would allow you and Elizaveta to act as our sponsors?"

"That's up to him, and I can't speak for him, but generally, that's a free choice by the couple without much interference. Technically, only one of the sponsors even needs to be Orthodox. That's a concession to couples in mixed marriages, but I've seen it even for those who elect to convert before they marry. But you do need to follow Father Nicholas' counsel on the matter."

"That seems so easy for you to do," he replied.

"I'm not sure that's the right word, but in my experience, following the advice of the bishop and my parish priest has never put me in a worse situation than the one in which I started; following my own will, has. That said, having been baptized and chrismated as a baby has the advantage that my parents selected my godparents, just as Elizaveta's did, and that made our choice of sponsors fairly simple. Similarly, I never really considered serving as an acolyte until I was asked when I was seven. The same is true for my ordination — it was my priest and my grandfather who suggested to the bishop that I be made a subdeacon; it wasn't something I'd actually considered. The diaconate was the doing of my grandfather and Elizaveta's dad, along with the Parish Council."

"But didn't you know it was possible?"

"Sure, but that didn't mean I thought it would happen, and certainly not this soon. The sequence of events that led to what's going to happen next Sunday was completely unpredictable. If Deacon Grigory, God rest his soul, had not reposed, it's unlikely I'd have been ordained before I was in my fifties, if even then. But that's idle speculation because nobody knows what would have happened, just as nobody knew when Deacon Grigory would die."

"Is that because you were so fixated on being a doctor?"

"I take it Tasha mentioned that?"

Mark nodded, "Yes. She said you had really mellowed in that regard."

"Yes, and no," I replied with a smile. "I don't show it nearly as much, and I don't worry about it nearly as much, but I haven't changed my focus. I can't be that fixated without doing harm to my marriage. That was a lesson I learned at Taft — the difference between being focused on a goal and fixated on a goal."