A Priest on a Train

I’m writing this on a train going from Moscow to St. Petersburg. For the first couple of hours, until we reached Vyshniy Volochok, a Christian Orthodox priest sat next to me.

I debated myself lazily and silently: I was curious to find out what he thinks, but wasn’t sure I had the energy to carry on what would probably be a surreal and depressing conversation. I prepared a question—”What do you think of that new military temple?”—but kept it to myself for the first hour and a half.

Finally, he said, “Next stop is mine.” I asked if he wanted to trade seats—he’d be closer to the door then—using the polite, formal version of “you,” вы¹. He agreed and started his Orthodox small talk:

— You know, nobody used вы in the old days. Peter the First brought this habit from the West. There’s a simple test for what is appropriate: how do we address God?

— Ты².

— Exactly. Same with the Tsar.

I thought: I’m in this conversation already, so what the hell.

— You’re a priest, aren’t you?

— Do I look like one?

— T…