Chapter 21: Troubling Developments

May 17, 1986, Columbus, Ohio

"Why me?" I asked Father Nicholas as we left the Cathedral. "It's supposed to be the most senior deacon!"

"I think," he replied, "and I'm only speculating, that the Holy Synod wants to give Father Jeremiah a free hand after his enthronement, and you are probably the only deacon who actually CAN'T serve as the permanent Protodeacon."

"You make a good point, Father," Viktor interjected. "I was as surprised as anyone, but what you say rings true."

"I think," Father Nicholas continued, "that it also sends a clear message that the Holy Synod approves of your behavior, despite the actions of Timofei Udalov and Bishop PAUL."

"That also makes sense," Viktor confirmed.

"Who from our parish is going to attend the enthronement?" I asked.

"That's a very good question," Viktor replied. "Obviously, you don't count against our limit of ten. Father, will you attend?"

"I face the same dilemma every priest faces — what to do about Sunday morning services. We were granted permission to close our churches, but that idea bothers me."

"You should attend, Father," Viktor said. "Mark Larson, the chanters, and the choir can lead a Reader's service. Mark is ready to be a subdeacon, and this would be a good way to expose him to his duties and for the congregation to see him perform them."

"I agree, reluctantly," Father Nicholas replied, "though my reluctance is about not serving the Eucharist, not about Mark. That leaves nine, then — one of them should be you, as Parish Council President, and I think Elizaveta should be another."

"I think we play dumb," I interjected, "and simply say she doesn't count against our limit because she's my Matushka, and I've been ordered to serve."

"I think she'd agree about you playing dumb!" my father-in-law teased.

"Not 'playing'," I chuckled. "Let's just say that she has the opinion that boys can be quite dumb at times!"

"She's not wrong," Father Nicholas chuckled. "I think you can finesse her attendance. There is no way anyone would refuse your Matushka entry to the nave if you are serving. And given the Metropolitan and two other bishops will be leading the services, a quick word with them would ensure she was permitted entry if someone did object."

"I propose a lottery," Viktor said. "I can't think of any other solution which wouldn't end up being political and have recriminations. We ask who would like to attend, then draw names from a hat."

"I'd actually modify that," I said. "First, Matushka Natalya should attend, and second, I think Father Nicholas should have two appointments. I don't think that creates a problem, and the other five could be done by lottery."

"That's a good idea," Viktor said. "I agree."

"I'm sure you do," Father Nicholas agreed, "because you aren't on the spot to choose!"

"I think," I said soberly, "that if you select Tasha, you've eliminated 90% of the risk someone would throw a fit for not being able to attend."

"When did you become a politician?" Father Nicholas asked.

"It's not politics, it's a survival mechanism! I dated her for a couple of years, so I know! Trust me!"

Both my father-in-law and my priest laughed.

"She apparently trained you well," Viktor observed, chuckling. "Elizaveta seems satisfied."

"Seems, being the key term!" I replied. "But in all seriousness, she doesn't have to correct me TOO often."

"This sounds like a conversation for confession," Father Nicholas said.

"Not sinful, Father," I replied. "Just small philosophical disagreements."

"May I ask?" Viktor inquired.

"She wasn't happy when I suggested that Frank Bush should have a chance to get out of prison after a lengthy sentence if he were to repent and show appropriate remorse."

"I think you'll find quite a few members of the congregation who would agree with her," Father Nicholas said. "There are some who support the death penalty as well."

"Theology aside, I've never understood how committing a second homicide is an appropriate response to a homicide."

"You might want to phrase that differently if you speak publicly."

"No problem," I said flatly. "Judicial murder is not an appropriate response to murder."

"That's not exactly what I had in mind, Deacon."

"I realize," I replied, "but what I said accurately reflects the situation. In the end, it is not for any man to take a life, no matter what his position of authority might be. But you know what? I have a bigger problem. I'm supposed to leave for Seattle on the morning of the 31st, the day before the enthronement."

"I don't see that you have a choice, really," Father Nicholas said. "You'll have to change your travel plans."

"I'm going to assume that there will be a banquet on Sunday evening," I said.

"That's a good assumption, as it's usually the case. I fully expect there to be a banquet, but we won't know for sure for a few days. You should plan on it."

"That means I can't leave before Monday morning," I sighed. "I lose basically two whole days of my very limited vacation."

"As I said, I don't see that you have a choice, Deacon."

"Mike, I'll cover the cost of changing your tickets," Viktor said.

"Thanks, but that's not the real concern. Fundamentally, I have no other time off for the next four years. There's a good chance I'll end up working on holidays, too. But Father is right," I sighed, "I've made my bed."

"Let's discuss this tonight after Vespers," Father Nicholas suggested.

"OK," I agreed.

May 17, 1986, McKinley, Ohio

"What's wrong, Mike?" Elizaveta asked when I walked into the cottage.

"That obvious?"

"To me, it is. Did something bad happen in Columbus?"

"I suppose that depends on your viewpoint. Father Jeremiah was elected on the second ballot and was accepted by the Synod. He'll be enthroned two weeks from tomorrow."

"That's good, right?"

"Check the calendar," I replied.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "We leave for Seattle on Saturday! You'll miss the enthronement."

"That would be disappointing, but that's not the problem, it's the opposite. The Holy Synod named me acting Protodeacon for the enthronement."

"What?!" my wife protested. "You can't be!"

"Not permanently, Kitten," I soothed. "It makes sense. The problem, of course, is that there's also a banquet, which would mean the earliest we could leave for Seattle is Monday morning, and we'll lose two days of our vacation."

"But why would they ask you to do that?"

"They don't know about the vacation. Father Nicholas and your dad believe it's because I am basically the only deacon who can't be named Protodeacon on a permanent basis, and it shows that the Holy Synod has confidence in me, despite the problems with our former bishop and the locum tenens. It makes sense, and it's a great honor, but it depresses me that I have to give up a good part of my only vacation for the next four years."

"I don't think that's really fair to you."

I shrugged, "There's not much I can do about it at this point. We need a bishop, and I have my responsibilities."

"But your mental and physical health is important, Mike."

"Obviously, but I don't think there's a solution because nothing can change with medical school and Residency. I don't know what else to do, except suck it up and deal with it. It's just depressing. I need to speak to Jocelyn because we'll have to change our flights. That'll cost a small fortune at this point, but your dad offered to cover the fees."

"What about Jocelyn and Gene?"

"I was thinking they should just fly out on Saturday as planned, but it's up to them. Let me call them, then I'm going to change into sweats and chill for a few hours before dinner."

"Maybe a nice warm shower?" Elizaveta suggested. "And a nice warm wife to help?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea! Where can I find one?"

"Husband..."

"I love you, Kitten, you know that!"

"I do."

I went to the phone and dialed Jocelyn's number. Gene answered, and I asked to speak to her, so he called her to the phone. I explained the situation, and she commiserated, and after she had a brief conversation with Gene, agreed they would fly out as planned, and we'd follow two days later. Once I finished the call, I realized I needed to call Dale, so I retrieved my address book and dialed his apartment in Seattle.

"Melrose."

"Dale, it's Mike. Some stuff came up with church, and I'm not going to be able to leave until Monday morning."

"What did you do now?" he asked, chuckling.

"Nothing! Our new bishop will be enthroned two weeks from tomorrow, and I was asked to participate in the service. It's a tremendous honor, and I can't really turn it down."

"We'll still have six days. What's Jocelyn doing?"

"She and Gene will come out on Saturday."

"OK. I'm really looking forward to seeing you guys!"

"And I'm looking forward to seeing you too! See you in two weeks!"

We said 'goodbye' and I hung up.

"You were far more upbeat with Dale than you were with Jocelyn," Elizaveta observed.

"How much good will it do me to whine?" I asked.

"None!" Elizaveta exclaimed. "But you did whine to Jocelyn."

"I got it out of my system, I guess."

"Well, if you undress, you can get it into my system!"

"A splendid idea!"

The shower and lovemaking helped improve my mood, and after a light dinner, we headed to Saint Michael the Archangel for Vespers.

"You seem in a better mood than you did in the car on the way home," Father Nicholas observed as we vested.

"I spoke with Jocelyn and Dale and then spent time with Elizaveta."

"Say no more," Father Nicholas chuckled.

May 19, 1986, McKinley, Ohio

"You never do things the easy way, do you, Petrovich?" Clarissa asked, shaking her head.

"I prefer 'no good deed goes unpunished'."

"So what does that command mean?"

"That I'm the lead deacon assisting the bishops in enthroning Father Jeremiah. There will be three bishops, three deacons, and at least two subdeacons."

"No priests?"

"No. When the bishop leads the services, the priests literally have nothing to do. They were an accommodation introduced when congregations in cities became too large to attend the divine liturgy together. The option was appointing a bishop for each church, which would have made the synods of bishops ridiculously large. I've discussed the antimens with you — that's the cloth on the altar which gives the priest permission to serve a liturgy. Without it, he cannot do it.

"Biblically speaking, the two offices are 'episkopos' and 'diákonos' — overseer and servant. Our word 'bishop' comes from 'episkopos', and you know the term 'episcopal', which has the same origin. The Greek word has the prefix 'epi' meaning 'over' and 'skopos' meaning watch or see, as in telescope or microscope. The word 'priest' comes from 'presbyteros', which means 'elder', not 'priest'. In Greek, that would be 'hiereus', which is where we get 'hierarch' in English.

"There were groups of presbyters in the early church, whose job it was to oversee the day-to-day functions, but they didn't serve as clergy. The Parish Councils serve those functions now, though they are no longer all male. There's a bit of dispute about how that all worked out, but what I've given is, generally speaking, the Orthodox position."

"I should know better than to ask questions like that!" Clarissa declared, shaking her head.

"It was a valid question, and also a good one," I replied. "Most people don't understand the relationship of bishops, priests, and deacons, and their roles. One sees it clearly in a hierarchical service because the priests, if they participate at all, simply stand to the side of the altar table while the bishops and deacons lead the service, assisted by subdeacons, and if there are insufficient subdeacons, acolytes, who aren't technically clergy, but act as if they were in certain minor capacities."

"But no girls or women."

"I believe we've had this discussion before, about the bishop being a 'type' of Christ, and as such, the priest, as his substitute and representative, is also a 'type' of Christ. And by 'type', we mean symbol, though not in the nominalist, Western sense of the word. The Greek word 'symbolon', which means, literally, 'I put together', is an outward sign of an inward reality. The erroneous notion of a symbol being simply something which represents something else, without manifesting the presence of that thing, is from the 16th century.

"So, in the case of the bishop, he is standing as an outward sign of the inward reality of Christ's presence with us in our flock. The bishop is the head of the local church, or what the Romans call the 'Church Militant' — the church striving on earth for union with Christ. The bishop stands in, as a true symbol, for the Head of the Church, which is Christ. Because of that, we only enthrone men as bishops And because of THAT, we only assign men as priests to represent them."

"But you support the idea of female deacons, right?"

"At least in some circumstances, yes. The basic problem is that, in most cases, the diaconate is a stepping stone to the priesthood. That was not the case in ancient times, because there was no specific priestly function, except by the bishops. We do know there were female deacons, and we know they assisted in caring for women, assisting with baptisms, and performing other functions of community service.

"There is scant, if any, evidence they served liturgical functions, but it's also the case that most deacons didn't serve liturgical functions in ancient times. But now, with fifteen hundred years of tradition, it's difficult to see how they could be reintroduced without causing an uproar in the churches. I think you could ordain female monastics to the diaconate and limit their service to the monastery to which they are assigned, but I don't think our bishops are ready to do that."

"And they shouldn't!" Maryam exclaimed, having walked up from behind us.

"Good morning, Maryam," I replied. "I was simply explaining to Clarissa why no priests would serve at the enthronement of Father Jeremiah in two weeks. I merely expressed a private opinion on how the bishops might go about restoring something which we know existed in the ancient church."

She frowned, "I believe that's an awful idea."

I nodded, "You aren't the only one, which is why, before you walked up, I had said it was unlikely to happen. Shall we go in and have our breakfast?"

The three of us walked into the building, then went to the cafeteria, where Fran and Peter were waiting.

"No Sandy?" I asked, as she was usually the first one to arrive.

"I haven't seen her," Fran replied. "But she's been late on Mondays on occasion."

"True," I agreed.

By the time we were halfway through our breakfast, I was concerned enough to stop eating and go to the payphone to call Sandy. There was no answer, so I went back to the table.

"No answer," I announced when I sat back down.

"She seemed fine last night," Fran observed.

I nodded, "I agree. She seemed less stressed than she has been."

"I meant to ask earlier," Fran said. "What happened with your church meeting on Saturday?"

"Petrovich got himself into trouble, as usual!" Clarissa teased before I could respond.

"Now what?" Fran asked lightly.

"I was assigned to serve at the ceremony where we enthrone the bishop."

"Which is a great honor," Maryam interjected. "He'll be Protodeacon for the service."

She knew because Father Nicholas had made the announcement in Church the previous day.

"It is," I replied. "Though it's not a permanent role, because my duties would conflict with medical school in a way that I couldn't manage. The downside is that I lose two days of my vacation in Seattle, because I need to stay for the banquet which will follow the service."

"That stinks," Peter observed.

"As I said to my priest, I signed up for this. I could easily have told the bishop 'no' when he suggested ordaining me."

"Fat chance of THAT," Clarissa declared. "You would never turn down a request such as that."

"So what does that involve?" Peter asked.

"More or less the same things I do on Sunday mornings in our parish, though with three bishops leading the service rather than a priest."

"Does this finally resolve all your problems with the church leadership?"

"It should," I replied. "Unfortunately, it all came too late for Tasha's dad, though I fully expect him to be restored to the diaconate posthumously."

"What would the point be?" he asked.

"To restore his good name, and have him listed as a deacon on prayer lists for departed clergy."

We finished breakfast and Sandy still hadn't arrived, which concerned me. I tried to call her again, but there was still no answer. The five of us went to class without her, hoping that she'd turn up before too long. When she didn't show by our first break, I became very concerned. I tried calling for the third time, with no success.

"Now what?" I asked.

"I hate to say it," Clarissa suggested, "but call the ER."

"It's only been two hours," Fran said. "And we agreed she was less stressed last night."

"Sure," Clarissa replied, "but can you think of a reason she wouldn't be here? And Pete wouldn't be at home at 7:00am? And there might be a reason she was less stressed."

"Clarissa has a point," Peter said.

"Let me call Nate," I said.