A Lifetime of Regrets
While visiting my wife's native Romania one summer, I learned that
there had been an anti-communist insurgency there back in the 50's. It
was eventually crushed in the early 60's.
I began
to imagine a family in Transylvania who fought as anti-communist freedom
fighters. I imagined that this family's motivation was largely in defense of the Church that the communists were suppressing.
And in particular I found myself dwelling on the regret and
disappointment such people must have experienced when their hard-fought
effort came to nothing and they were forced to either flee the country
or form a life within the communist system.
And so it was
that I began writing the novel A Place of Brightness. It shares the saga
of such a family of freedom fighters as they experience the end of the
rebellion. It continues to a second generation who must unexpectedly
take up the torch and face their family's enemies.
In the
very first chapter, I describe how a brother and sister team have
resolved that their current operation against the communists would have
to be their last. They dare to share with each other dreams of the life
they will fade into as they now set their rebellion aside.
But
things don't go according to plan on that final mission and what follows are lives deeply and
tragically wounded by the regret of what never came to pass.
What Brought Me There
Like you, so many things I had once perhaps imagined my life could include and would mean—just didn't happen as I planned.
Lofty dreams of my youth never materialized.
More reasonable dreams of my young adulthood came true in only mixed measure.
Safer plans in my full adulthood evolved into a comfortable life.
And then my world was turned upside down.
You see, I had a PhD in Biblical Hebrew, with a minor in Arabic. That was a safe plan, since it had followed accepting a scholarship. And I loved the study.
But then, on the evening of Tuesday, September 11th, 2001, I saw appeals on the news for people with expertise in Arabic to submit resumes to the intelligence agencies in response to what had happened.
Quick version. Submitted. Accepted. Suddenly I was an Intelligence Officer at the National Security Agency.
What followed was a whirlwind of adventure and emotion. I would serve in Iraq, for which I was awarded the Global War on Terrorism Civilian Service Medal. I would serve in the Office of Counter Terrorism, helping to foil plots against our nation.
I served at the NSA for four years, longer than the US was in WWII. I came to a point where I was ready to move on—and to a quieter life.
As I resigned my position and became a mild-mannered Latin teacher, I needed a way to process all that I had been through.
A Place of Brightness
I wrote my novel for many reasons. As a boy growing up in Wisconsin, I never imagined I would ever stand in a war zone. Some of the more intense battle scenes of the novel allowed me to process the chaos and insanity of it all.
As I look back on my life, I certainly have some regrets. The experience of going to war and working in the Top Secret world of espionage had a toll on me. A part of me wonders, with understandable regret, what my life would be had I not gone down that path.
At the same time, I would not change anything were I given the chance to do it all over. I am what I am today because of the choices I made.
My novel is primarily a story of family and faith. I come from a close family and the bonds the characters in A Place of Brightness share are real. They are practicing Christians because I would dishonor myself to write them any other way.
But a most important matter explored in the novel is the tremendous burden the brother and sister will experience as the dreams of a future life which they hoped for on that final night—are crushed.
What do you do when everything you ever dreamed your life would mean is suddenly gone?
As you will learn in the novel, the answer is—you pick up a new dream and you move forward—in faith.
The Romanian Orthodox Church is facing a bit of a quandary today. One of their own, but one they once disowned, has turned up, well, having failed to decay after seven years. And in Catholic-Orthodox circles, that's a pretty big thing.
We're talking about Fr. Gheorghe Calciu-Dumitreasa.
He lived a remarkable life. For the fullest description of his journey, you can read the Washington Post article published upon his death in 2006. But I'll briefly summarize it for you as follows.
He was a medical student when the Communist regime seized control of Romania after WWII. He spoke out publicly against the Communists and went to jail for 16 years. During that confinement, he seems to have had a faith experience and when he was finally released, he secretly pursued theological education. He was ordained a priest in 1972. The Communist government tolerated his anti-Communist preaching for five years but finally the Church itself, probably under significant pressure from the Communist government, defrocked him.
He was jailed again and was tortured while in confinement. The US President Ronald Reagan eventually demanded his release from prison as a condition for favorable trade with Romania. The Communist government released him.
He and his wife Adriana and their son Andrei were allowed to go into exile to America in 1985. They settled in Virginia. Having been defrocked by the Romanian Orthodox Church, he was accepted into ministry by the anti-Communist Romanian Archdiocese of the Orthodox Church in America.
He lived to see the end of Communism in Romania. But, being defrocked by the Romanian Orthodox Church, and serving with a Church body that had described the Romanian Bishops as nothing but Secret Police lackeys, in the few trips he made to Romania after Communism, he was not allowed official recognition or access to Churches for the saying of Mass.
I want to say, that, having spent quite a bit of time in Romania and getting to know people that had to survive the brutal Communist regime, including people of the Church, I don't judge the hierarchs of the Church. I believe that they did what they thought was necessary for the survival of the Church there in Romania. And the men who defrocked Fr. Gheorghe did so out of fear, fear for their own lives, and also fear for the survival of the Church in Romania. It was what it was.
That does not make Fr. Gheorghe any less brave for the outspoken stance he took.
He fell asleep in the Lord in 2006. He had spent his twilight years serving a Romanian parish in Virginia. But his body was sent for burial to the Petru-Voda Monastery in Romania.
Now, it is routine at monasteries to disinter bodies after seven years. That's the point after which we expect to find nothing but bones. There's a ritual for it. Monks and Nuns spend their lives looking forward to having their bones gathered into the community collection after those seven years.
I have often kissed glass cases of hundred of monastic skulls, venerating the lives of prayer that these men and women led for the Church.
But when they disinterred Fr. Gheorghe they found something strange.
He had not decomposed.
There is an ancient teaching in the Great Tradition (the Catholic and Orthodox Churches before they sadly split) wherein a body that does not decay is held as proof of sanctity, meaning, such a person should then be proclaimed a Saint.
So, Fr. Gheorghe presents a quandary for the Romanian Orthodox Church. He was officially sanctioned, defrocked, by the Church at a time when they were fighting for their lives.
Now, he presents himself as a candidate for sainthood. How do you canonize a defrocked priest?
The solution may be that perhaps the Orthodox Church in America could canonize him. Reciprocally all Orthodox Churches accept the canonization of each Church.
At any rate, pray for us, Fr. Gheorghe. Let me tell you, Fr. Gheorghe, the Churches in Romania today are full every Sunday. I have no doubt that leaders in the Church committed sins against other members of the Church during Communist times. You were one of many people wronged. But the Church leaders erred while trying to preserve the Church. I know that hurt you. You are before the face of God now. And I know you forgive, just as you have been forgiven.
But, in Romania, the Church did finally win.
May God bless the Orthodox Church in Romania.
Here is a Romanian news article about the finding of his incorrupt body:
