The Curious Effects of a Car Accident (On the Death of a Bishop)

God, I hated Andrew Pataki.

For those of you who don't know who he was, Bishop Andrew Pataki was one of the most controversial figures of the Byzantine Catholic rite in America. He wanted the Byzantine Catholic Church to become as Roman Catholic as possible, and went after it with a gusto that I wish I had about my own life. He was strong-willed to the point of stubbornness, and helped put through a translation of the Liturgy that still makes the Orthodox laugh because of its inclusive language. He closed churches on a whim's notice. One of my best priest friends has memories about arguing with Pataki about shaving in the seminary because clean-faced priests are Catholic, and only do those damned Orthodox have beards. Most people whom I associated with in the Byzantine Ruthenian Church were his most avid opponents and critics. Heck, when I was in high school one of my best friends had a falling out with the man over a few things and had to drop out of seminary for a short time (he is now an ordained priest, thank God!) Everything that I wanted the Byzantine Catholic Church in America to be Pataki was against. So I had a few things against the man, on a few levels. Some were quite petty, and some were ideological.

Yeah, I say I had those issues. Past tense.

Bishop Andrew Pataki of the Byzantine Catholic Ruthenian Epharcy of Passaic died in a car accident. And I can't shake the guilt.

I've only had one actual interaction with His Grace. I was 17 years old, and had just begun iconography. I had just completed an icon for my friend Chaa, and brought it to her at the ByzanTEEN rally in Maryland. It was my ninth icon, and I was so excited with it! I had learned a lot in writing and praying this icon, and I couldn't wait for Chaa to see it. Here it is:

 

Gosh, I was so proud of those robes, and I couldn't wait for Chaa to see how much I'd done. Now, I've always been a rather... precocious... person. I knew that if I was going to give something to one of my friends, I was gonna do this right. So I decided that not just anyone was going to bless this icon. A bishop would bless it. But not just any bishop, my bishop, His Grace John Kudrick of Parma! So I served at the huge multi-bishop Liturgy, and waited for Bishop Kudrick outside the bishop's "office" where they were all un-vesting. And who should poke his head out to see who the annoying half-pint standing outside was?

I think you can guess. 

He asked me what I was doing, and I told him that I really wanted Bishop Kudrick to bless my icon that I'd written for a friend. Now, this wasn't the first time I had gotten an icon blessed by Bishop Kudrick. This was actually the second icon of mine I was going to present to him. So I was totally fine with waiting. Bishops are extremely busy people. They work days that are the equivalents of our weeks, and even at seventeen I knew I was imposing just a bit by standing outside and daring to get in the way. But, see, the problem was that there was a bus I needed to catch so I wouldn't be stranded at the cathedral. So, as respectfully as I could to the man whom I couldn't stand, I asked if Bishop Kudrick could see me now, if he pleased. He grinned in an unabashed, boyish, way and he vanished back into the office. Not even a minute later he brought out Bishop Kudrick, saying that a young man wished to see him and wasn't that a beautiful icon? Bishop Kudrick smiled a bit weakly (he had just gotten out of the hospital, if memory serves me right), and he blessed the icon. I thanked them both, and ran back to the bus. I was the last person on, and narrowly avoided being left behind. When I got on the bus Chaa was waiting by the door. After a brief scolding for playing it too close she took a look at the icon and grinned. She kissed the icon (a customary sign of respect), and an entire school bus's worth of Byzantine teenagers perked up. They all demanded to see the icon, and each and every person on the bus kissed it and called it beautiful. 

It's one of my most treasured memories as an iconographer, heck, as a person. 

And I ignored the man responsible for it. 

I spent  the rest of my time while Pataki was alive trying to not hate the man, and I mostly failed. When I found out he had retired I rejoiced, and said that the Church could finally recover. I didn't consider the fact that he was in poor health, and was (reportedly) disappointed by not being able to finish the job. And while I won't deny that what Pataki did was wrong, that doesn't excuse me for hating him, or for ignoring his act of kindness towards me. Bishop Andrew Pataki is dead, and I feel pain for losing a man who did so much for me. I also feel guilt that it took until he died to remember his one act of kindness to me. But at least I have one good thing to remember him by. Funny how humanity works like that.

The School's Trees: On Pessimism and Clannad

As most people who read this blog know, I used to write and lead a blog called The School's Trees, which is about the TV shows Clannad and Clannad: Afterstory (one of the writers was Carpe Guitarrem, whose blog I suggest checking out, if you love RPGs). I've said repeatedly this is my favorite show of all time. I've now watched the show 9(!) times, and consider it part of the reawakening of my Christianity; a vital part of who I am was formed watching this show. I'm one of those nuts who thinks that people should watch good TV shows, and I heartily recommend what I think is the best of the best. So of course I recommend Clannad to people, and most of the time I get a "the scruffy hobbit with a foul mouth just recommended something to me and said it was really good, I'll pass" look.

But sometimes someone decides to take me up on my offer, albeit with the same look on their face. Two of my friends finished watching the show this Sunday while I was completing an icon of the Resurrection (which is amazing, I'll get a pic uploaded for ya'll later!). One of the friends (we'll call her Mary) loved the show, as well as the ending. I don't know if she "got" it, but I don't think anyone fully gets the ending of this show the first, second, or even third time around. But my other friend (we'll call him Raphael), didn't like the end. When I asked Raphael why he didn't he said that the show had been set up for tragedy since the beginning. I told him that wasn't so, and he looked at me like I was a bit nutty. Which is understandable, I suppose. There are warning signs. But I told him that there had been indications that the ending was going to be happy, that things would end well for Tomoya.

Then he looked at me like I was a real nutcase; that took me aback. I told him to watch it again, and that he could borrow my DVDs if he wished. But that look's stuck with me, and here I am trying to write about it. Because I know I would have given that same look to anyone who had told me that after watching the show for the first time. I went and watched it again, not because I liked the ending, but the exact opposite: I hated the ending, but loved the show so much that I figured I had to have missed something. A show that's this amazing doesn't screw up like this at the end.

I found out that I was right.

I had completely glossed over every single time the writers had foreshadowed that goodness was at the end of this show. It wasn't even that I ignored it, it had completely gone over my head. I had found all the workings of a tragedy, so that's what I focused on, I let situation blindness get to me, and only looked for what I wanted to find. It was then that I realized something really awful.

I wanted Tomoya to fail. And why shouldn't I? Why should Tomoya get a loved one back when I can't? I don't have an orb of light, children really aren't made of light orbs, wishes usually aren't granted like that, and damnit to hell that's just unreal! I wanted Tomoya to move on, marry Kyou, and be in the same sobering and depressing reality that I live in: that we can't get what we want, but must settle for something else. That'll shut him up, having to labor in a life that's the second choice that's... wait...

I love my life. I'm in a good place, and have everything that I could possibly want and more. I'm doing art and enjoying it for the first time in years. My iconography is finally becoming what I'd always wanted it to be: a personal source of inspiration, giving, healing, and love. I have an amazing girlfriend, someone who came up and out my childhood in a story of hope and love that would put this show to shame. I have friends who I could whistle for and they'd help me. I have an amazing family. All against odds that really are a snowball's chance in hell.

Everything I've asked for I've received, and then some.

So what am I so bitter about?

And that's just it. That's the joke. There's nothing right now that I'm in want for.

Nothing.

Absolutely. Frickin. Nothing.

Well, a car would be nice... a teleporter machine, if I could get my hands on it.

Anyway.

I don't think I've ever asked for a miracle that bends the laws of physics, time and space, so why should I get one? I don't need something like that, and I don't know of anyone who does. And the only people I know of who have gotten such a wish got it because they needed it. A widow had her son returned to her, people die for over an hour, see Heaven, and come back home. The largest religion in the history of the world teaches that we get our bodies back at the end of time because they're so fundamental  to our existence that even God won't let us go without them long.

Come to think of it, reality's a pretty nice place to be! The people who need stuff have it given to them in the time it's needed, in the right amount. As a Christian that's my avowed creed, something that I profess every single day in the Nicene Creed, every Sunday with a whole bunch of people I don't know but am brother to. We get what we need, God sees to that. He is good.

So why be so jaded about Tomoya? He asked, he got. So have I. So did the widow. So did the centurion. So did Francis of Assisi, Peter the Apostle, Saint Padre Pio, Saint Seraphim Rose, Saint Photini, my father, my mother, my girlfriend, my friends at Franciscan, Benedictine, wherever, and whoever's reading this post, even if they don't realize it. We've all got what we need.

So why does it bother us that Tomoya got his wish?