A Party on Good Friday

Several years ago - well before the boys were born - I came to Utah on business. I had meetings the Wednesday and Thursday prior to Greek Easter, so I took a vacation day on Friday and stayed in Salt Lake to celebrate the holiday with my family.

I wanted to make the most of this unexpected visit, so I made plans to see my friend, Aimz. Only thing was that she was only free on Friday, so we agreed to go out for drinks after dinner.

That afternoon, my Theia Sophie called me (for those non-Greek readers, Sophie is actually my dad's cousin, but in Greek that makes her my aunt...it's confusing to you, I know, but makes complete sense to us!) She asked me if she would be seeing me at church that night. Maybe I should have been non-committal and said "I'll try." Instead, I told her about Aimz and drinks.

That's when she let me have it: She was horrified that I would even consider going out and enjoying myself on Good Friday. She reminded me that Jesus had had only one chance and he didn't use it to have a good time. When I was unconvinced by her arguments, she made me promise not to go dancing and instructed me not to have a good time. (That evening, the irrepressible Aimz - a devout non-believer - told every bar tender and server we met that we were not having a good time.)

Well, my Theia Sophia must have influenced me. Saturday I was shocked to learn that Niko had been invited to a birthday party on Good Friday. A birthday party...on Good Friday!

The invitations posed a great conundrum for me: Do I let my son go to the party or do I tell him he cannot attend? I know many people - perhaps even some who read this blog - who without hesitation would keep him home. And I know people, who would smirk at me for even considering not sending him to the party.

But I think it's a greater issue that many ethnic and religious minorities probably also deal with: the conflict between personal "traditions" and the activities of a larger society.

The birthday boy's family are wonderful, loving people. But they have a different tradition. One in which Good Friday doesn't have quite the impact it does in Orthodoxy.

I want my kids to understand and embrace their dad's culture, but I also want them to be typical American kids. I remember what it was like to pull a blood-red egg out of my lunch sack weeks after "American" Easter, and have the entire table stare in disbelief - assuming the egg had long gone bad (or was a pink PAAS aberration.)

So we compromise: The Easter Bunny visits our house...even when American Easter falls during Orthodox Lent. My kids can have fun during Lent...even on Good Friday.

This whole situation reminded me of something I heard from Fr. John Bakas of Saint Sophia Cathedral in L.A.: statistics repeatedly show that people are more likely to attend church services as adults if they attended them as a child with their father. My boys will get their religious cues from me. The choices I make will influence their choices. The way I handle the conflicts of a 1st-century religion in a (thankfully) secular 21st-century country will determine how they deal with them.

So in the end, Kelly and I decided that he'll take Niko and Gus to the party. A three-year old won't understand why he's not having cake and playing games at his buddy's party. I will not attend. If asked by other parents or the boys, Kelly will smile and tell them I'm preparing for Good Friday services, and if pressed that in my religious tradition a party on Good Friday isn't appropriate.

As the boys get a little older, they will attend Friday-night services with me. And when they're men, I hope they'll follow the example I've tried to set - just like the example my much-loved Theia Sophie set for me. I hope they'll have a foot planted squarely in both cultures, will compromise on the insignificant differences, and stand firm on the bigger questions of our faith. Kalo Pascha.