CHAPTER 30
The interior of Saint Peter’s Church glowed with the light of numerous candles. The electric lights had been shut off for the evening, and the church was filled with a festive air as the children rushed to and fro, getting ready for the pageant. A handful of adults were there to keep them in line, but by and large their attempts at keeping the confusion to a minimum were unsuccessful.
Father Dunn stood at the rear of the church, silently praying that none of the scampering sheep and angels would tip over a candle and catch something on fire. The church was made primarily of stone, but there were draperies and pews and all manner of other things that could easily combust should an errant flame touch them. Still, despite his low-level worry, he was as enchanted by the beauty of the evening as everyone else.
Christmas Eve services always had their own special magic to them. This particular night the weather was lending a hand, contributing a light snowfall, just enough to be pretty but not enough to raise concerns about driving. The church was filled with people, many of whom Thomas had never seen before. The Once-a-Yearers, he and Joseph had called them, those who made an annual appearance, always at Christmas or Easter, never to be seen again. Thomas didn’t care why they were there, though. He had much to be thankful for on this Christmas, the full pews being just one of them.
He looked out into the crowded parking lot, searching for a sign of Mike. He had promised he would come, and Thomas was looking forward to seeing him. But so far he hadn’t come, and it was nearing time for the pageant to begin.
“Father, five minutes.”
He turned to see the anxious face of Gavin Bettelheim looking at him, his brows knitted up in worry. He knew the music director’s nerves were on edge, so when he spoke, he kept his voice low and soothing.
“I’ll be ready, Gavin,” he said. “And I saw your dress rehearsal this afternoon. It’s going to be wonderful. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Gavin, reassured, brightened considerably. Clutching a roll of sheet music, he turned and hurried off in pursuit of some rogue choristers who had gone by, giggling into the sleeves of their robes.
“Are we on time?”
A figure stepped inside and Mike’s face was lit up. Thomas, seeing him, resisted an urge to kiss him. Instead, he took Mike’s hand and held it for a long moment. “You’re right on time,” he said.
“I brought some friends,” Mike told him. “I hope that’s okay.”
Thomas was delighted to see that Simon, Russell, and John were coming up the steps behind Mike. Thomas greeted each of them warmly and ushered them inside.
“We’re about to start,” he said. “I’m afraid the back row is the only one with any room in it.”
“That will be perfect,” Simon whispered to Russell as they went in. “This way we can escape if it becomes too much to bear.”
Thomas, too excited about having Mike there, failed to notice the lack of enthusiasm. After making sure his friends were situated, he strode up to the front of the church and ascended to the pulpit.
“Good evening,” he said. The church grew silent as the murmurings stopped and everyone looked toward the front. “Welcome to Saint Peter’s and our Christmas Eve service. Instead of our usual service, tonight we’re presenting the children of Saint Peter’s in a pageant celebrating the season.”
Thomas nodded at Gavin, who was sitting in the first row. As Thomas stepped down and walked to the back of the church to take his seat beside Mike and the others, the music director stood up and walked over to stand in front of the assembled choir of young people. Dressed as angels, they wore white robes and had rings of golden tinsel on their heads. The youngest ones played with the hems of their costumes, looking out at the audience in search of their parents’ faces.
Gavin held up his hands. When he brought them down again, the singers launched into “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.” At the same time, a group of fifth graders, dressed as shepherds, emerged from the darkness, herding in front of them several small children wearing sweatshirts glued all over with cotton balls. Seeing them, the audience laughed. One of the sheep bolted, making for her mother in the front row, but was stopped by a keen-eyed shepherd, who collared her and dragged her back into place.
The singers’ voices faded out as one of the boys stepped from the back row and took center stage. “And an angel of the Lord appeared unto the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night,” he said, his voice carrying throughout the church. “Unto you is born this night a savior, which is Christ the Lord.”
The shepherds stared at the angel for a moment before filing offstage. The angel chorus resumed singing as the shepherds were replaced by the three wise men, each dressed in an elaborate robe and long fake beard. One of them carried a telescope, through which he looked into the distance.
“And a star appeared unto them,” a voice from the darkness informed the audience. “A sign that in the city of David a child had been born. And then did they set out upon a journey.”
The wise men followed the shepherds into the darkness. In the last row, Simon leaned over. “I believe I smell a Tony,” he said drolly.
Thomas, sitting beside Mike, reached over and took his hand. As Mike accepted it, Thomas felt a surge of joy fill him. Ever since telling Mike about himself, he’d been happier than he ever had been. The burden he’d been carrying around for so long had been lifted from him. He didn’t know what road his life would take now, but he felt confident that everything would be all right. As he sat in the darkness of the church, listening to the greatest story of hope ever told, he understood how the shepherds and the wise men might have felt hearing the words of the angel of the Lord. He, too, had received wonderful news, and his heart resonated with the impact of the message.
At the front of the church a new scene was unfolding. Mary and Joseph, looking tired from their journey, arrived in Bethlehem, seeking shelter. The choir serenaded them with “Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem” as the invisible narrator told of their fruitless search for a room. When finally they found an innkeeper willing to give them space in his barn, the blue-robed Mary seemed genuinely relieved to sit down on the hay bales put there to represent the stable.
“And there, in a stable surrounded by horses, cows, and sheep, she gave birth to the Christ child and laid him in a manger.”
“I can’t wait to see this part,” Mike whispered to Thomas, who stifled a laugh.
The birth was discretely handled, as Mary reached into her robes and removed a baby doll, which she placed in its makeshift bed as the congregation, unable to contain itself, applauded gently. Mary, blushing, bent down to attend to the newborn’s needs.
A rustling behind them caused the five men to turn around. There, standing in the vestibule, were the shepherds and wise men. They peered into the sanctuary, awaiting their cue to enter. When it came, in the form of the angel choir’s rendition of “Away in a Manger,” the shepherds darted forward, filling the aisle between the pews with bleating sheep as they made the long pilgrimage through the church. They were followed in short order by the three wise men, who marched solemnly to their signature tune as they carried their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, which they laid around the manger as Joseph and Mary nodded appreciatively.
The entire nativity scene having been assembled, the tiniest angels enjoyed their moment in the spotlight, warbling “Silent Night” in various keys and tempos. When they were finished, Gavin turned to the congregation. “Will you now join the angel choir in singing some carols,” he instructed them.
Thomas opened the program tucked into the hymnal rack in front of them and held it so that Mike could share it with him. As the first notes of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” began, he listened to Mike’s voice, a deep, rich sound that melted into his own. On Mike’s other side, John, Russell, and Simon formed a trio, their voices fainter but no less important to Thomas. Surrounded by his friends, he looked toward the nativity scene and was almost overcome by the emotions running through him.
He wished Joseph could see him now, see how far he’d come since those days when the very thought of revealing himself to anyone filled him with terror and shame. How had he ever convinced himself that God, in his infinite capacity to love, would turn away from him for reflecting that same ability? How had he not seen, as Joseph had even in his sickness, that to truly serve God he was obligated to welcome life in all its complexity, all of its contradictions?
Now, viewing a children’s pageant, he realized the truth. God could not be contained within the teachings of any church, was not waiting to sit in judgment of him. He had been judging himself based on false assumptions, on what he feared others might find wanting in himself, and in the process he had failed in his duty to the one he professed to serve. But no more. Whatever it brought, he was going to live as the man he was. The thought thrilled him, and as he sang, his voice rose up in joy.
Gavin led them in several more carols. Throughout the singing, Thomas held on to Mike’s hand, not wanting to let go. But as the final words of “O, Holy Night” faded away, he let go. “I’m on,” he told Mike as he stood and walked to the front of the church.
He looked out at the people seated before him. A serenity had settled over the church, a peace and warmth that radiated from the faces looking back at him. In the last row, Mike, Simon, John, and Russell were watching him.
“As our children have shown us tonight, the message of Christ’s birth is one of love and wonder,” he said. “Hold this message in your hearts as you celebrate the season. Thank you for joining us tonight. As our angel choir sings for us one more time, please join us in the hall for refreshments. May the peace of the Lord and the blessing of the Spirit be with you and yours.”
The congregation gathered itself up as the older angels dutifully followed Gavin’s direction of the much-debated Brahms piece. Thomas, giving them an appreciative nod, descended into the mass of people making their way to the adjacent hall. He was stopped several times by those wishing to give him holiday greetings, but eventually he made it back to Mike and the others.
“I guess we’ll go,” Mike said. “We’ll see you later at Simon’s, though, right?”
“Go?” Thomas asked. “Why?”
Mike looked at the people streaming past them. “You know,” he said. “It’s not like we belong here.”
“Yes, you do,” said Thomas firmly. “Now get in there and eat some cookies.”
Mike looked back at John, Russell, and Simon for their reaction.
“I, for one, would love some eggnog,” said Simon.
“Cookies sound great,” Russell seconded.
“I guess we’re staying,” Mike told Thomas.
“I’ll see you in there in a minute,” Thomas said happily. “I have some priest stuff to do.”
Thomas disappeared into the sea of departing figures, leaving them to find their way into the hall. Mike followed the crowd, and moments later the men found themselves standing beside a table heaped high with cookies, fudge, and candy. They each got a glass of punch and a small plate of goodies and stood to one side, munching and observing the people around them.
“Do you think they know we’re from the dark side?” Simon asked.
“What makes you think some of them aren’t queer?” Russell said.
“Can you say ‘queer’ in a church?” joked Mike as he nibbled on a cookie.
“You can, and I’m sure some of them are,” John announced firmly.
The others looked at him in surprise.
“What?” he said as he popped a piece of fudge into his mouth. “They’re Episcopal, for Christ’s sake. The entire church owes its existence to the fact that Henry the Eighth wanted a divorce so he could marry Anne Boleyn and the Pope wouldn’t give it to him. They’re practically founded on deviance.”
“While not entirely true, that’s essentially correct,” Simon opined. “Although ‘deviance’ is perhaps not the word I would use.”
“What would you say?” Russell asked him.
“I prefer ‘openness,’ ” Simon answered. “Both in mind and in sexuality. It is true that gays are quite prominent in the church now, although not everyone is happy about it.”
“There’s a shock,” remarked John. “Religious people not liking us.”
“Spoken like a true scientist,” Simon said, patting him on the back.
Before they could continue the conversation, they were confronted by a beaming woman dressed from head to toe in red. She carried a plate of cookies, and she smiled at them broadly. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before,” she said.
“It’s our first time,” Mike told her.
“Well, welcome to Saint Peter’s,” the woman said. “I’m Beth-Ann Milliman. I’m in charge of the deaconesses.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” said Mike.
“Are you here alone, or are your wives with you?” Beth-Ann inquired.
Mike looked at his friends for help. Simon stepped forward and smiled at Beth-Ann. “I’m afraid we’re all single gentlemen,” he said.
“Not all of us,” John said.
Simon gave a small smile. “That’s right,” he said. “I forgot. Mr. Harding and Mr. Ellison are companions.”
Beth-Ann looked at John and Russell with a perplexed look, not comprehending. “You’re friends?” she said.
“That’s right,” Russell replied. “Special friends.”
“Well, we’re happy to have you here,” Beth-Ann said after a moment. “I hope we’ll see you again.”
“Oh, I think you just might,” Simon said. “We’re quite taken with your pastor.”
Before Beth-Ann could respond to the remark, Thomas appeared.
“Father Dunn,” Beth-Ann said, sounding relieved. “We were just talking about you. These gentlemen—”
“Could you excuse us for a moment, Beth-Ann?” Thomas said, taking Mike’s arm and pulling him away.
“What’s going on?” Mike asked when they were away from the crowd. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I just spoke with one of our members who knows the Darby family,” Thomas said.
“Stephen?” Russell said. “I’ve been calling him all week, but he never answers.”
“He’s in the hospital,” Thomas said.
“Is he all right?” asked Russell.
Thomas shook his head. “He’s alive,” he said, “but he’s not all right. He overdosed on pain pills.”
“What?” Russell said. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know,” said Thomas. “It was probably accidental. But it sounds like he’s pretty badly off.”
“We have to go see him,” Russell said. “Right now.”
“We can’t,” Thomas told him. “He can’t have visitors. Not until tomorrow.”
Russell looked at the plate in his hand. “What a way to spend Christmas,” he said sadly. “Poor guy.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” John said, putting his arm around Russell and pulling him close.
“This sort of puts a damper on things, doesn’t it?” Mike said softly.
“It’s still Christmas Eve,” Thomas reminded him. “And we’re all still together.”
“That’s true,” said Simon cheerily. “And tomorrow we will all have Christmas dinner together. As a family,” he added, stressing the last word.
Thomas looked around the room. “I should go mingle,” he said. He turned to Mike. “See you later?”
“Come over when you’re done here,” Mike told him. “We’ll wait up for Santa.”
“I’ll see you boys tomorrow,” Thomas said to the others. “Merry Christmas.”
When Thomas was gone, Mike put his plate and cup on the table. “Shall we?” he asked.
They left the hall and went out into the night. The snow was still falling, and over the church the moon shone pale and round against the sky.
“All is calm, all is bright, indeed,” Simon said as they walked to their cars and prepared to head for home.