Chapter Forty- Six
Chapter
Forty-Six
“We’re just going to listen,” Daniel Cohen
said. The lawyer sounded as if he’d said the same thing to
countless clients countless times. “We don’t decide anything right
now, and we don’t give them any information. Okay? You can exchange
greetings, talk about the weather a bit, but that’s it.”
Mark nodded. He understood the strategy. The
church had come to a preliminary conclusion about Mark’s situation,
but nothing was formalized yet. Nothing was final. Mark needed to
keep his mouth shut and let Daniel do his job.
“We walk away, discuss their offer, and get
back to them with a counter-offer if needed.”
“It’s definitely going to be some sort of
offer? You’re sure they aren’t going to just apologize for being
paranoid and ask me to get back to work as soon as possible?”
“That would be lovely. And it’s not
completely impossible. But I don’t think it’s the most likely
outcome, no.”
Mark nodded slowly. This was all so far from
what he wanted the church to be about. They should be helping
people and serving God, not negotiating the minutiae of an
employment contract. Mark wanted it all to be over so he could get
back to what was important.
But he tried to look serious, if not quite
penitent, as they were shown into the conference room where the
others were already waiting. Amanda Tisdale, the church’s lawyer;
Dr. Berton, the bishop’s lapdog, or maybe his pitbull; and several
others, all wearing suits and looking businesslike. Mark was
wearing dress pants and a blazer with an open necked shirt. He
hadn’t worn his collar in months and hadn’t missed it at all, but
suddenly his neck felt bare, as if he needed some symbol of
authority and respectability. He tried to ignore his discomfort and
sank into the chair beside Daniel.
The meeting started with paperwork. It was
ridiculous, all of them sitting there and watching Amanda Tisdale
passing sheets of papers across the table to Daniel. He glanced at
each set, said he’d review them and get back to her, and waited for
the next set. They were here to decide the future of Mark’s career
and he was yawning with boredom.
Finally, Tisdale nodded toward Dr. Berton and
he gave Mark an oily smile. “We’ve managed to settle things with
Mr. Wilson. Obviously there was some damage done by the publicity
in this case, but we’ve managed to contain it.” He seemed to be
waiting for congratulations but Mark couldn’t bring himself to
oblige.
“So now we need to move forward,” Berton
finally said. “We think it’s time for you to return to a more
active role in the church. Terry Groban has spoken very highly of
you. He says you are at your best when serving parishioners
directly. He also says that you’ve had a loss in your family—our
condolences—and that this is consequently not an ideal time for you
to relocate.” Berton frowned. “We’d prefer that you did. We think
you could benefit from a fresh start. But Father Groban is a
well-respected member of our organization and he has considerable
influence. So against our better judgment, we’re willing to let you
return to your former post. Is that the position you’re most
interested in?”
“It is,” Mark said quietly after receiving
Daniel’s nod of permission to speak.
“You need to be aware,” Berton said, “that
you will have less personal freedom in that position than you might
have if you were working elsewhere. In the city, or in a post that
doesn’t involve working with young people, there would be more room
for you to…express yourself. You would still be expected to behave
with dignity and self-control, but there wouldn’t be as much
scrutiny of your…relationships.” Berton paused and fixed Mark with
a knowing gaze.
“I think you need to clarify what you’re
saying,” Daniel said firmly. “Are you suggesting that Mr. Webber’s
acceptance of this position is conditional? And what form of
personal expression is it that you’re trying to limit?”
“We’re not trying to limit any form of
expression,” Tisdale said quickly. “But a significant part of Mr.
Webber’s former job was parishioner relations, and to a lesser
extent, community relations. In order to perform that job well, he
may need to make compromises in his personal life. The limits
aren’t imposed by the church, but by the community.”
“I thought the church was supposed to
lead the community,” Mark said quietly. He could feel Daniel
looking at him worriedly, but the lawyer didn’t try to interrupt.
“I would have thought that as long as I lived my life in accordance
with the church’s teachings, we would take community disapproval as
a learning opportunity for them, not a sign that I need to change
my behavior.”
“You can’t teach people if they refuse to
listen,” Berton said. “We can’t race so far ahead of our
parishioners that they can’t see us anymore. We can’t take big
steps if they’re only ready for little ones.”
“I’m hearing a lot of what we can’t do,” Mark
said. “What can we do? Because I’m gay, and I can’t hide that. I
refuse to. Can I live my life as an openly gay priest?”
“Gay, yes,” Berton said carefully. “But
you’re aware of the church’s teachings on premarital sex.”
“And I’m aware that I can’t get married, at
least in this diocese. So I’m expected to be celibate?”
“A restriction that does not apply to
heterosexual Anglican priests,” Daniel interjected with a pointed
look in Tisdale’s direction. The lawyers were clearly laying
groundwork of some sort but Mark wasn’t concerned about that. He
was looking for something deeper.
“Not necessarily celibate,” Berton said. “But
discrete. And you’re expected to find a partner who will not
outrage the members of your congregation, not to mention the
members of your own family.”
“Yes, let’s not mention his family,”
Daniel said firmly, “since they have nothing to do with any of
this.”
“We can debate the church’s policies at some
other time.” Berton leaned back in his chair as if physically
demonstrating his new distance from the discussion. “For now, we
just need to make it clear that, like every other parish priest,
gay or straight, Mr. Webber will be expected to live his life in
accordance with certain rules and in a way that does not offend his
congregation. We would not approve of a heterosexual priest who was
carrying on an affair with a convicted criminal, and we do not
approve of those actions from a homosexual priest. The relationship
between the crime and Mr. Webber’s family is also something that
would certainly create doubt about Mr. Webber’s judgment, both in
the minds of the parishioners and in the eyes of the church.”
Mark tried not to wonder how the church knew
about Lucas, whether his mother had been the one to tell them.
Instead he searched his mind for a reaction to the words he was
hearing. “What are you saying? I need it spelled out for me.”
“I don’t think you do,” Berton said primly.
“I think you need to search your conscience and ask yourself
whether you can perform your role as a spiritual leader without the
support of those you lead. And then I think you need to ask
yourself what is likely to get in the way of you receiving that
support. And then you need to do something about it.” He smiled
gently. “I don’t think your relationship is public knowledge. Not
yet. The church can understand that you were under considerable
stress and made a mistake. But we can’t approve of a decision to
continue any further along the wrong road. And your congregation
will likely be even less understanding about it, should they ever
find out.”
“You’re asking me to choose between Lucas and
the church,” Mark said. He was almost talking to himself. Lucas.
The church. The church and Mark’s mother, the only family he had
left. He’d contemplated the choice before but it had always been
distant, theoretical. Now that it was being placed before him and
he was actually forced to pick one side, things weren’t as easy as
they’d been before. He thought of the peace he found in his
prayers, the serene joy he felt when he listened to the choir sing
words of praise to God. And the work he did for the church—the
sense of purpose that had imbued itself into every aspect of his
life. And then he thought of Lucas.
“No,” he said. “I won’t make that choice. I
can love Lucas and love God. I know that to be true. And I believe
that I can love Lucas and serve the church. If you don’t believe
that I can, you’ll have to decide what to do about it. But I won’t
give him up.”
“And I think that’s a good place for us to
leave things,” Daniel said smoothly. “You’ve offered Mr. Webber his
previous position. We accept that but reject any special provisions
that go along with the position, any rules that apply only to him.
He’s done nothing wrong and does not deserve to be placed on any
sort of probation.”
“It’s not a special rule to say that priests
work within certain boundaries and are held to a higher standard,”
Berton retorted.
“Well, that’s something we can discuss at a
future meeting. In the meantime, should Mr. Webber return to work
tomorrow?”
Berton frowned at the lawyer. “No,” he
finally said. “Not until this is resolved. If it can’t be done at
this meeting, he can just sit on the sidelines until it is
resolved.”
“As you are the ones delaying his return, you
will continue to pay his salary.” Daniel was gathering up his
papers.
“For a little longer,” Berton replied. “But
not indefinitely. We want this taken care of.”
“As do we,” Daniel said with a calm smile. He
waited for Mark to stand and they went through the ritual
handshakes before making their way out of the room. They didn’t
speak until they were right outside the building.
“Can they make me choose?” Mark asked. He was
pretty sure he knew the answer and his suspicion was confirmed when
he saw Daniel’s expression.
“There are special rules for priests. For
teachers, lawyers…pretty much every profession demands that its