Chapter 2: «Σκύβαλα»

January 23, 1986, Rutherford, Ohio

“Now what happens?” Elizaveta asked when I hung up the phone.

“The Metropolitan will appoint a special committee to investigate everything. According to my grandfather, Bishop JOSEPH will lead the committee, and it will include two priests, a deacon, and three laypeople, all of whom have experience with financial matters.”

“And what happens to Vladyka ARKADY in the meantime?”

“It’s tricky, because of the canons. He’s still titular bishop, but Bishop PAUL has been appointed locum tenens. That means he’s responsible for administering the diocese until such time as Bishop ARKADY is able to resume his duties or a new bishop is enthroned.”

“And Protodeacon Seraphim?”

“Has been suspended pending the completion of the inquiry.”

“What happens to Deacon Vasily now? Well, I know he’s deposed, but it’s difficult for me to call him anything else.”

“In the interim? Likely nothing. It’s technically possible that Bishop Paul could restore Deacon Vasily, but I suspect that would be left to whomever is elected as our new bishop. Obviously, if the charges are unfounded, then I have no doubt the bishop would restore him.”

“Elected?”

“That’s right, you weren’t even born when the bishop was enthroned. There would be a diocesan council consisting of all clergy and two lay members from each parish. A vote would be held, and anyone who was canonically eligible could be named on a ballot. Each person, clergy and laity, would write one name on their ballot, and if anyone received two-thirds of the votes, that name would be submitted to the Holy Synod for immediate election. If they reject that name, or if no person receives two-thirds of the votes, there is a second round of balloting, where two names are written by each person, and the two who receive the most votes are submitted to the Holy Synod, who would choose between them, or reject both. As far as I’m aware, it hasn’t happened that three candidates have been rejected.”

“And you get to vote?”

“Yes.”

“Who would you vote for?”

“I’m not sure. The first thing I’d do is gather the names of priests and deacons who are either widowed or are monks, as well as the names of monks from our monasteries, and then work from those. I’d also consult with the grandfathers about men they know who would be eligible. And technically, any unmarried Orthodox man is eligible, not just priests, deacons, or monks. Technically, the Slavic tradition requires the man to be a monk, but a man can take monastic vows after election. But we’re getting way ahead of ourselves.”

“You don’t think the allegations are true?”

“What I think isn’t particularly relevant. I’ll wait for the investigative committee to issue their report.”

“I know how you think and how carefully you speak, husband, but I want to know your opinion.”

“Kitten, it’s dangerous to speculate about allegations like this, even privately. That said, I think you can reasonably infer my thinking from what you know.”

Elizaveta nodded, “I think so. Will you have to serve at the cathedral?”

I shrugged, “I have no idea. That would be up to Bishop PAUL, and until he instructs otherwise, I’ll simply keep doing what I’ve been doing. Remember, as Saint Ignatius the God-bearer of Antioch said, ‘he who acts without the bishop’s knowledge is in the service of the devil’.”

“Which is what you were worried about when people were coming to you about the situation.”

“Among other things.”

“Did your grandfather say anything else?”

“No, just that the committee was being appointed under the leadership of Bishop JOSEPH, and who the locum tenens would be. I’m sure I’ll receive a letter from the Metropolitan and I’d say it’s quite likely Bishop PAUL will summon all the clergy for a meeting. Anyway, shall we go to dinner?”

“Yes!”

We left the house and headed for Doctor Forsberg’s house. As we drove, I considered the question Elizaveta had asked and admitted to myself that I was convinced that Bishop ARKADY was guilty of the things of which he was accused. I had no proof, but every bit of circumstantial evidence pointed in that direction. I was reasonably sure that Protodeacon Seraphim had «компрометирующий материал», or «компромат» for short, on Bishop ARKADY, and that he had used it to protect himself from the accusations made by Deacon Vasily and my grandfather. I was also reasonably sure it was the real reason behind Father Herman’s transfer, as I believed he had felt he needed to get out of the line of fire.

If all of that were true, to me it also meant that everything that had happened since then had happened because the bishop—MY bishop—had conspired with Protodeacon Seraphim to cover up financial irregularities. It was also extremely likely that the kompromat was exactly what my grandfather had said—that evidence of sexual impropriety committed by the bishop actually existed. I was in no situation to judge him, but I wasn’t called to do that; it was his brother bishops who would decide and who would judge.

I had tried to come up with another explanation which fit all the evidence, but I couldn’t. And that meant the bishop, MY bishop, had betrayed his flock. That made me wonder if there was some ulterior motive he had for my ordination. I couldn’t imagine what it might be, but that didn’t stop my mind from wandering into that thicket. In the end, though, no matter what the bishop’s intention might have been, I hadn’t done anything which violated the canons and which would invalidate my ordination.

I also wondered about the Spiritual Court. While I’d been Deacon Vasily’s choice, I had also served as cover for the Bishop with Tasha, my grandfather, and probably others. While he wouldn’t point to me, or to Father Nicholas, for that matter, our mere presence, at Deacon Vasily’s request, had served the bishop’s purposes. Of course, given I felt that the allegations my grandfather had made were true, the fix was in, and the appointment of Protodeacon Seraphim had ensured the report would turn out the way the bishop wanted. It was an unholy mess, as I’d said, and it was going to get uglier before it was over.

“Are you OK, Mike?” Elizaveta asked. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Sorry. I was just turning everything over in my mind and realized there really was only one conclusion. And I also realized that I haven’t been treating you as an equal partner in our shared ministry. You need to know what I’m thinking, even if I can’t reveal anything from the deliberations of the Spiritual Court.”

“You think the bishop is guilty, don’t you? And Protodeacon Seraphim?”

“That’s the only conclusion for which all the facts line up. Every single action and every single word fits the narrative that my grandfather has constructed. Every single bit, with no exceptions; and I can’t construct, despite serious effort over the past few weeks, any other narrative. It’s my opinion that Protodeacon Seraphim has been embezzling funds and that he used some sexual indiscretion by the bishop to blackmail the bishop. Deacon Vasily, who was on the audit committee for the diocese, discovered the ‘cooked books’ and that’s why he was deposed.”

“But nobody could know that Sasha was going to do what she did!” Elizaveta protested.

“Probably not, and it might well have been a coincidence which provided an opportunity to silence him.”

“Probably not?”

“I don’t trust anyone who is directly involved at the moment except my grandfather. For all we know, Father Herman’s transfer was also related, and, to be frank, I think it was. What if HE counseled Sasha about how to go about things because he was threatened?”

“I find that seriously hard to believe!” Elizaveta protested.

“Don’t you think that it’s all too convenient that he asked for release right before the bovine excrement hit the rotating air circulation device?”

Elizaveta giggled, “Cute. But we’re alone, so you can say ‘before the shit hit the fan’! You even pointed out Paul uses that word in his letter to the Philippians!”

I chuckled, “True. Most modern translations use ‘rubbish’ or ‘garbage’, though the King James used ‘dung’. The original Greek was, as I said in Sunday School, earthier. And, as I said, you can see that in commentaries and other writing in German and early English where they use the same basic vulgar word for excrement.”

“So, before the shit hit the fan!”

“Yes, Kitten,” I chuckled.

“Do you think Father Herman was aware?”

“I suspect Deacon Vasily discussed it with him, perhaps in the context of confession, and Father Herman, as they say in those corny Westerns, decided to git while the gittin’ was good. By moving to that parish in Kentucky, he seems to have avoided the shrapnel, at least so far. I suspect what he REALLY wanted was a release to another diocese, but those are nearly impossible to come by. The only ones I know of are a priest who retired to Arizona, and a deacon who was transferred by his job to Colorado.”

“What would happen if you Match outside the diocese?”

“That was discussed with Bishop ARKADY before I agreed to be ordained a subdeacon, along with the «ekonomia» to marry as a member of the minor orders. I’d be released to the diocese where the hospital was located.”

“Not that I expect this to happen, but what if later, when you’re an Attending, you want to work in another hospital that’s outside the Diocese of Ohio?”

“Then I’d discuss it with the bishop. Generally, deacons have significant leeway to seek jobs outside their diocese, though going back to what Saint Ignatius said—’he who acts without the bishop’s knowledge is in the service of the devil’—I’d absolutely speak to the bishop before I even explored my options. Bishop ARKADY was amenable to that, but if we get a new bishop, it will be up to him.”

“But didn’t Vladyka promise you?”

I nodded, “Yes, but his grant of «ekonomia» expires when a new bishop is enthroned. It’s up to the new bishop to decide if he wishes to continue to grant «ekonomia», and on what terms. If this all had happened while I was a subdeacon, but before we married, there would have been a chance that I’d have been forced to decide between being celibate or asking to be laicized. Not all bishops agree on marriage after being tonsured a reader or ordained a subdeacon.”

“That would have been really bad!”

“The choice would have been obvious, and given that, it’s likely a new bishop would have continued the grant of «ekonomia», but I know at least one circumstance where someone was forced to make the choice. He chose to remain clergy. And I suspect he’ll be a candidate for bishop.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always! If I can’t answer, I’ll tell you, as well as tell you why I can’t.”

“You haven’t called the bishop ‘Vladyka’ in this entire conversation, and you usually do.”

“I know,” I replied. “But right now, ‘Daddy’ or ‘Pops’ just doesn’t seem right. I’ll offer the respect due the office, but right now, I’m having an extremely difficult time thinking of Bishop ARKADY as my spiritual father.”

“That’s bad.”

I nodded, “The entire situation is bad. No, it’s worse than that, it’s «σκύβαλα».”

“I take it that’s the word Paul used in Philippians?”

“Exactly,” I said, as I pulled into Doctor Forsberg’s driveway. “The word is usually translated ‘dung’, but ‘shit’ is a better translation because this is an unholy mess.”

“Is there anything I shouldn’t say or do tonight?”

“Be yourself, Kitten, just please keep the claws retracted!”

Elizaveta laughed, “Because you said ‘please’, I will.”

I parked, we got out of the car, and walked up to the large, two-story house with a perfectly tended front lawn and garden.

“This is the kind of house I want to buy when we’re able,” I said.

“And if we have five kids?” Elizaveta asked.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it! We agreed on two, but as a lower limit, not an upper one! And we have to work out the timing because it’s still four or five years before I can have a significant income.”

We came to the front door, and I rang the bell.

“Mike and Elizaveta?” a good-looking man of about thirty asked.

“Yes. You must be Doctor John Smith.”

“I am. Come on in. Candace is just putting the finishing touches on the meal. We’ll eat in less than five minutes.”

We followed him into the nicely appointed house where he offered us drinks, which we declined as we’d be sitting down to dinner shortly. Doctor Forsberg called us to the dining room about two minutes later.

“I understand from Candace that you’re a deacon at your church,” Doctor Smith said. “And that led to what I suppose we’ll call an unusual situation.”

Elizaveta smiled, “Mike’s options were limited—marry or be celibate. I’m positive he believes he made the right decision, even if it defies social convention.”

“Not to give offense, but don’t you think sixteen is awfully young to marry?”

“Obviously not,” Elizaveta replied sweetly.

Doctor Smith laughed, “I walked right into that one! But I believe you know the point I was trying to make.”

“Yes, of course, but isn’t marriage, like a decision to have sex, one that is purely personal and is a decision that nobody else can make for you?”

“Yes, though age does have to factor into it.”

“And the State of Ohio says that sixteen is old enough to marry, as long as your parents give their blessing. Mine did. So did our parish priest and our bishop, as well as the marriage counselor we saw before we married. May I ask if you sought pre-marital counseling?”

Doctor Forsberg laughed, “And now I’m going to have to lie or admit something which will make me look bad. World’s shortest engagement—six hours.”

“No way!” Elizaveta gasped. “How is that possible?”

“We met at breakfast at a medical convention in Vegas two years ago. We got married that afternoon.”

“Excuse me,” Elizaveta exclaimed, barely controlling her outrage, “but you married the same day you met and you have the nerve to criticize my decision?”

“As I said, it would make me look bad. I judged you purely on your age, without knowing much about your situation.”

“There has to be more to this story,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

“We had breakfast, skipped the morning sessions to get better acquainted, had lunch, then ended up at a chapel.”

I chuckled, “Ended up, as in Fate dragged you there against your will?”

“Well, against common sense,” Doctor Smith said with a soft laugh. “And yet, it’s worked great.”

“I think,” I said carefully, “that’s the end of any questions about my marriage.”

Doctor Forsberg nodded, “I think so, too.”

January 25, 1986, Rutherford, Ohio

“I received a fax from His Grace, Bishop PAUL, instructing us to attend a meeting of the clergy at the cathedral a week from tomorrow,” Father Nicholas said when Elizaveta and I arrived at church on Saturday for Vespers. “He also instructs you to serve with him on Sunday morning. You’ll receive a letter from him, which, according to the fax, was posted on Friday.”

“What about our wives?” I asked.

“The meeting is solely for clergy, and the fax doesn’t say anything about Matushka Elizaveta.”

“I think it’s best if she’s at the cathedral. Do you have any idea how long the meeting will last?”

“It says that His Grace is hosting a dinner for us.”

“Then Elizaveta and I will need to drive separately. I can’t imagine she wants to hang out in Columbus for half a day. That’s going to mean I’ll miss a study group session.”

“I’m not sure His Grace is aware of your situation, but wait for the personal letter before you decide how to handle that.”

“I think it’s wise to cancel my study session and then discuss it with His Grace when I have a chance, either Sunday or early the following week. Do you have any idea of how long the investigation will take?”

Father Nicholas shook his head, “No. I spoke with your father-in-law to ask how long a complete audit might take, and he couldn’t really give an estimate because we don’t yet know how many years need to be audited. Fortunately, being tax exempt, there isn’t going to be a tax audit.”

“May I ask your private thoughts?”

Father Nicholas laughed softly, “If I tell you, they’re no longer private!”

“True. But do you have an opinion?”

Father Nicholas was silent for a moment, “I suspect, based on what happened during the deliberations at the Spiritual Court, that you and I are of the same opinion, or reasonably close.”

“Speaking of that, Tasha is fairly angry with me at the moment.”

“And me as well,” Father Nicholas commiserated. “But, unfortunately, there isn’t really anything we can do. Trying to take advantage of the locum tenens situation to voice disagreement with Bishop ARKADY would be highly inappropriate.”

“It just doesn’t seem right that we’re the target of Tasha’s ire when we did nothing wrong.”

“I may have heard a story about a man who was treated that way somewhere...” Father Nicholas said with a sly smile.

I chuckled, “A line I’ve used before. I’m curious about something.”

“What’s that?”

“If we do get a new bishop, as it appears you and I both think to be likely, and Vasily Antonov petitions for restoration, could we sign his petition?”

“I don’t know of any rule or canon which would prevent us from doing so.”

“But wouldn’t that be disagreeing publicly with the bishop?”

“If what you and I both believe is going to come to pass does come to pass, I don’t think that’s going to bother anyone in the entire church here in America.”

“Hopefully, that will restore our relationship with Tasha and Nik. They begged off the last several dinners with Mark, Alyssa, Elias, and Serafima.”

“I would hope so. How are those going, otherwise?”

“Quite well, I think. And you’ve met with Alyssa’s parents recently, so you know catechism is going well. Fortunately, both of them are fairly voracious readers, so I don’t have to meet with them every week. They’ve read just about everything available, including Schmemann and Lossky. I think they’re ready, and the timing is perfect, as we’re coming up on the Lenten cycle in a few weeks. They can spend Lent praying, coming to church, and fasting.”

“Which is the ancient pattern. How did your dinner go on Thursday?”