Chapter 28: Friends and Family

August 6, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"I think that's a reasonable compromise," Father Nicholas said after I explained the plan to him at lunch on Tuesday. "I don't envy Viktor his current situation."

"Me neither, but I think once we settle into the rhythm, Yulia will be OK. I also had a talk with Father Herman about my parents, and I'm concerned."

Father Nicholas nodded, "You should be; both he and I are. First, we didn't discuss it on Saturday night, but how are things with your sister?"

"Just fine. As I mentioned, she did that for me, and it's a single step. I wouldn't expect, in the short term, regular attendance or anything like that. Father Herman and I discussed it briefly last night, and I said basically the same thing. His comment, one with which I agree, is that the first step is important, even if the second one takes a long time. He advised prayer and love, which, of course, was what I was doing."

"If she follows the usual pattern, her first child will bring her back to the church. I've seen it time and again, at least with regard to Orthodox who become unchurched rather than convert to a heterodox faith. As for the matter at hand, I agree with Father Herman about keeping in contact with your mom."

"The impression I got from Father Herman, though he didn't say it or hint at it directly, is he's concerned they're going to divorce, which was the concern I had a year ago and which I thought was countered when Elizaveta asked my dad to attend Liz's wedding, and he agreed."

"I can't say anything specific, but your thinking is not at odds with mine or with Father Herman's."

"My first thought is a word completely inappropriate for clergy."

Father Nicholas laughed and nodded, "Been there, done that, got the ryassa. As your grandfather said, we put our pants on one leg at a time like everyone else. We are expected to behave better in public, but when it comes right down to it, we're still just men in fancy clothes. And they aren't even fancy — our street clothes are the typical clothing for Constantinople, barring a bit of style change and adaptation to modern realities. Our liturgical clothing is formal wear, which would have been worn in government proceedings, again with some stylization. You made those points, if I recall."

I nodded, "I did. But none of that permits «некультурный» (nekulturny) behavior in public." ("inappropriate")

"No, of course not, but the fact that you didn't say it out loud is the key takeaway. Should our every thought be pure? Absolutely. Should we strive for that? Of course. Are we human? Yes."

"I might make an argument about that to which you would object."

"Yes, of course. And despite no one sin being worse than any other in the eyes of God, there are some which can easily disqualify us for ministry because they directly affect our reputation, and despite our rejection of Donatism, there must be some standards."

"I agree, of course. Father Herman and I talked about that last night, and he made the comment that he erred in his spiritual guidance with regard to me."

"As did I," Father Nicholas said. "And yet, the Holy Spirit eventually worked on you through a pair of young women and presented you to the bishop in a condition in which he could ordain you."

His comment about two young women HAD to mean Lara and Elizaveta, and I wondered exactly how much he knew from Lara from her confessions. It wasn't something I could ask, and it could have been as simple as her telling Father Nicholas that she had demanded I stay chaste without adding the condition that she had given, which allowed me to have sex so long as I was having sex with her. She'd very neatly taken my belief about sex with girls I saw as potential wives and turned it into a catalyst for behavioral change.

"God works in mysterious ways," I replied.

"And, as I think you will agree, very often through women when it comes to the most important things."

I nodded, "The Theotokos, the Myrrh-Bearing Women, wives, sisters, mothers, and grandmothers, many of whom are Saints of the Church."

"And your mother-in-law?" Father Nicholas asked with a knowing smile.

"I believe my wife would suggest her mother is working for the opposing party," I chuckled. "Though I haven't personally seen the horns nor where she keeps the pitchfork!"

Father Nicholas laughed, "You are quite the smart aleck."

"Tell me that you've never counseled a young woman in the position in which my wife finds herself!"

"I can't tell you that, and you know it!" he chuckled. "Though the usual metaphor has more to do with pointed hats and broomsticks rather than horns and pitchforks!"

"I believe I've met some of those mothers," I replied, holding back my laughter.

"That does tend, also, to be the opinion of many men of their mothers-in-law."

"I have no animosity for Yulia," I replied. "I just want peace between her and Elizaveta."

"Don't we all. Let me speak with her the next time she comes to confession. I'm sure Viktor, Mikhail Ivanovich, and you can make your joint decision stick."

"I hope so."

"Has Mark spoken to you?"

"Yes, on Sunday evening. Elizaveta and I are honored to be their sponsors."

"I assumed that would be the case. Did they talk to you about Alyssa's parents?"

"Yes. I can probably do catechism if it's done on Sunday afternoons following Sunday School. My plan is, generally, to take Sunday off from studying, so long as that remains possible."

"Then, if that works for them, I'll ask you to do the catechism. I have had nothing but glowing reports from your Sunday School class and from Mark and Alyssa. When we formally receive them as catechumens, which I expect to do in the next month, I'll have them speak to you."

"Sounds good," I said.

"I do have one pastoral concern I wanted to ask you about, if you're in a position to say anything."

I was fairly certain what he was referring to, but I didn't want to give away anything if I was mistaken.

"About?" I asked.

"Nikolas and Natalya. I understand they didn't join you for dinner as planned, and there seems to be some discord between them."

"Both of those things are true, but I'm not at liberty to shed any light on the situation."

"I won't probe further, and I'm not implying any error on your part, but I take that to mean you know the particulars."

"I do."

"In your judgment, how acute is the problem?"

"Enough," I replied. "I think I can safely reveal that Tasha has met with Elizaveta, and I think it's been very productive."

"Please tell Elizaveta that if she feels out of her depth to direct Tasha to her godmother. And to encourage Tasha to come to confession."

"I will relay that guidance."

"Good. These kinds of things aren't uncommon with newlyweds. The first time you live with someone, there are so many things you need to learn. How are things with you and Matushka Elizaveta?"

"They're good. We had our moment over my past behavior, but we had a couple of very frank discussions and worked through her concerns."

"Continue with the strategies I suggested," Father Nicholas said. "Get together with couples and develop some male friends who are as close as you and Clarissa were."

"We still are," I replied. "Elizaveta is comfortable with that relationship, and we've discussed the appropriate limits, including not being alone with her in private."

Father Nicholas nodded, "Good. Just be very careful."

"Understood."

"Do you have your ballot for Sunday's Parish Council elections?"

"I do," I said, removing a folded ballot from my pocket and handing it to Father Nicholas.

There were twelve names listed for election to the seven-member council. I'd voted for Tasha, of course, as well as my father-in-law. For the other five, I selected a mix of younger and older members of the parish whom I respected, including two who had never served before. I'd always felt that there needed to be some change with every election, and I wondered if it might be possible to formalize that.

"Father, when I was deciding who to vote for, I wondered if we might want to set some kind of term limits. At least two members of the Parish Council have served for twenty years."

"That's something His Grace has discussed with us, and it's a balancing act to have continuity and fresh blood."

"Would he allow staggered elections?" I asked. "Three one year, four the next, so that the two-year terms overlap? That prevents a worst-case scenario, which I think would be unlikely in any event."

"What kind of limits are you thinking about?"

"Maybe something along the lines of serving no more than seven years in a ten-year period. That leaves it up to the individuals as to when to not run for reëlection. I realize it could still work out that the same ten or eleven people serve, but the mix would change. I think if you make it something like consecutive terms or fewer years, you might run out of willing candidates. Other than Tasha, Basil, and Maria, all the other candidates have served recently. I think that ratio was true two years ago as well."

"We're lucky to have twelve candidates," Father Nicholas replied. "Some parishes resort to what amount to pastoral appointments where the pastor strongly encourages someone to serve."

"I recall one year Father Herman had to 'encourage' someone to serve to fill out the Parish Council at Holy Transfiguration. Did you reject any nominees?"

"Two on pastoral grounds."

That meant he knew something, from confession, that prevented those individuals from serving. It didn't have to be sin, as he would take into account their overall spiritual condition, as well as physical and mental health.

"May I ask if you voted in a way that reflects your thinking?"

I nodded, "I did. It's no secret that I support Tasha's candidacy, but I also voted for a mix of older and younger people based on how I thought they would lead the parish in non-pastoral areas."

"Sadly, too often, it's simply a popularity contest. I'm sure you voted for Tasha because you think she'll do a good job, not because of your past relationship with her."

"My past relationship with her is what makes me sure she'll do a good job," I replied.

Father Nicholas smiled and nodded, "Having you as my deacon is going to be VERY different from having Deacon Grigory. You're very good at analyzing your own behaviors and seem to know how to cut through the BS. You remind me of Doctor Evgeni in that way."

"A favorable comparison with him is a real compliment," I replied. "Thank you."

"I'd guess it's one of the key traits of being a doctor or a lawyer, though I think very often lawyers create more BS than they cut through."

I chuckled, "I'll let my friend Jocelyn know your opinion. She's pre-law."

Father Nicholas laughed, "And one of your female friends who helped you mature and grow, although I'm not sure I approve of the means."

"A fair point," I replied. "I think there's a fine line between a popularity contest and voting for someone you know well whom you believe would do a good job. I suppose my question, as someone who had not really participated in the inner workings of parish operations, is whether or not you've had Parish Council members who were unqualified?"

"I believe there have been members who were less than optimal, but remember, my ability to reject someone is limited to spiritual matters or, in some rare cases, health matters. One key thing which prevents problems is that the treasurer must have some kind of financial background, and does not need to be a member of the council. If they aren't, they're ex-officio, so they participate but do not vote. Mr. Malenkov has served as treasurer for the past five years despite not being on the Council."

"What would you do if you didn't have a banker or accountant?"

"Then someone who was an accounting clerk, or a businessman, or who had that kind of experience. I don't believe any parishes have nobody like that, though a couple of mission churches have had to ask the bishop for exceptions."

"Things I never knew serving in the altar."

"Why would you? I mean, you have zero interest in parish politics, I'm sure, and all liturgical matters are in the hands of the bishop."

"Unless someone proposes putting pews into the nave, I'm unlikely to say a word at the Parish Council meetings on any topic except perhaps almsgiving."

Father Nicholas laughed, "We're on the same page. That debate was had before I was assigned here, and I hope to never have to deal with it. May I ask your opinion on the Cathedral?"

The front half of the nave was open, with pews installed in the back half. That left plenty of liturgical room, plenty of room for the faithful to stand and do prostrations as necessary, and provided plenty of seating for those who wished or needed to sit. Saint Michael the Archangel, like Holy Transfiguration, had benches along the side and back walls, which was traditional and was my preference.

"I think it reasonably splits the difference," I replied.

"As we're talking about the Cathedral, how were things on Sunday morning?"

"Father James suggested that a three-week stint was probably unnecessary, but those were the bishop's instructions."

"I know Father James well enough that he'll say something to the bishop, who will confer with Protodeacon Seraphim. I'm not surprised, by the way; you know the liturgy backwards and forwards."

"I'm not sure I could recite the prayers backwards," I replied.

"One day, Mischa..."

I chuckled, "Get used to it, Father! I know lots of puns, too!"

"And I know the appropriate pun-ishment, should you elect to use them!"

We finished our lunch, and I headed home.

August 8, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

"My mom is really pissed," Elizaveta said, a bit too triumphantly on Thursday afternoon.

"Kitten," I said gently, "that is not a recipe for peace."

"But you and my dad made the agreement, together with your grandparents!"

"Yes, but you being happy about your mom being upset isn't the right response. Put away your scorecard and be a loving daughter. That's the way to ultimately win. When she views you as her equal, she'll stop. But she won't until YOU stop making it a contest. Let me fight the battles through your dad and the priests. You just relax and try to build a good relationship with your mom."

"Just like you're doing with your dad?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Hmm?"

"I keep putting out the olive branches, and they're swatted away. You keep looking for ways to piss off your mom. You've won, Kitten! You're married and a Matushka. She can't force you to do anything ever again. The only ones who don't know that are you and your mom. Please, just let it go."

"Why are you taking her side?!"

I took a deep breath and let it out.

"I'm not," I said gently. "I'm on your side; I've only ever been on your side. But there is no need to keep fighting when you've achieved your goal. Let HER keep fighting if she wants, and allow your dad and me to deal with it."

"Fine," she huffed, making it clear to me that she hadn't changed her mind but was acceding to my request.

I held out my arms and she melted into them, and I hugged her for a few minutes before she kissed my cheek, then went to the kitchen to make dinner. I hadn't made any progress on helping prepare meals, but I considered the most important thing to be ensuring 'peaceful coexistence', so that could wait. She did, at least, allow me to help with dishes in exchange for kisses, which was the camel's nose under the tent in dividing the chores at home along lines other than the presence or absence of a 'Y' chromosome.

After dinner, I called my parents' house as I'd promised Father Herman I would.

"Hi, Mom; it's Mike."

"Hi, Mike. How are you and Elizaveta doing?"

"We're both fine. I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to do more than say 'hello' on Monday night."

"I've seen how little time Father Herman and Deacon Vasily have for their families at church, so I'm not surprised. You were at the Cathedral on Sunday, right?"

"Yes. I'll be there for two more weeks. How are things at home?"

"About the same. Your grandfather mentioned you'd worked out a Christmas schedule with your father-in-law and him."

"Just trying to find a way to keep the peace between Elizaveta and her mom," I replied. "On that note, I should tell you that we invited Paul and Liz for Thanksgiving dinner."

"I assumed that would happen," she said with resignation.

"Not to start a fight, Mom, but that was the only realistic option once Dad banned Paul from your house in perpetuity."

"And you still can't see his point of view."

"Yes, actually, I can; I simply disagree with it. And whatever Dad's problems are, whatever your difficulty in dealing with them is, did you happen to notice that Liz received the Eucharist? And did you know she went to confession with Father Herman before she did that?"

"A gesture to you, no doubt."

"Whatever her reasons, it was a huge step for her. One you should accept simply at face value. Talk to her, Mom. Please."

"I'm not sure she'll be receptive, given our last conversation."

"Do it anyway. Please."

"You know the problem, Mike."

"May I be blunt?" I asked.

"And if I say no?"

"I'll tell you I love you, and we can talk again in a few weeks."

"No moralizing? No 'holier than thou' proclamations?"

"If you asked those two questions, I think you know what I was going to say. I'll hold my tongue, but don't expect your dad to hold his when you and Dad don't show up at the Christmas gathering because Paul and Liz will be there."

She didn't respond immediately, so I waited.

"Well, it's your decision," I continued after about a minute of silence. "How is Dad?"

"If you're asking about health problems, there aren't any."

"Which tells me there are other problems. I have a sympathetic ear."

"More like a judgmental one," Mom growled.

"I suppose all I can do is say 'goodbye' and say I'll call in a few weeks."

There was a brief silence.

"Wait," Mom pleaded, her voice quivering. "He's drinking. A lot."

I took a deep breath and let it out, then asked, "May I say something?"