In His Eyes
Susan Topa
Utica College
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They always said it was his eyes. Whenever asked what attracted them to him, that is what they would say, as if it explained everything. How could it be? How could his eyes entrance them so that they gave themselves to him so easily? I will tell you. You can see in the photographs of him, Grigori Rasputin, that his eyes caught your eyes, that it was difficult to stop staring into them. Even now I look at his photograph and can remember him and how his eyes would twinkle, almost as if they had their own source of light somewhere inside those grey lenses set so deeply under his brow. That was enough for some of them, enough to dissolve their hesitation and to set them free, but for others it was the life inside of those eyes, a spark of love for life and the need to enjoy life. For others, it was more. It was how his eyes suddenly became bright and a sense of pure happiness would infuse them, as if to say that life is good, God is good and as we suffer so do we revel. Still others would hold back, letting their minds overcome their hearts, but when he spoke and smiled, touching them gently and filling their minds with a loving sense of warmth and healing, they gave in.
This was his charm, and many women fell under his spell and many men were jealous of him and some men themselves fell.
I loved him and he loved me. I was one of the first to love him so fully as to be lost without him, to have to see him and touch him every day or to spend much time in prayer and fasting. How can it be explained properly? God was in his eyes. He was, like Christ, a son of God. He was our Christ on this cold and unloving earth and we loved him with the entirety of our souls.
One afternoon as we drank tea and he sang hymns to us and we praised God, he told us how it came to be that he realized that God made us to love things that made us happy and that there is no sin in enjoying our bodies.
"I wandered," Father Grigori said. "Since I was fourteen, I knew God was calling me and so I wandered and I sought him in the wilderness. I came across a small farm and asked for shelter and was admitted. The farmer was a rough Siberian peasant, with a large beard and a withered leg. His wife was also coarse, but the moment my eyes rested on hers, I felt something inside of me stirring. I closed my eyes and prayed to God and as we shared a meager meal, I refused to look her in her eyes for I knew that inside of her was Satan. The farmer was kind and offered me a place by the fire. I wanted to run away, to flee for I knew Satan was tempting me, but I could not insult the farmer and so I lay down. A white sheet hung to separate me from the bed of the farmer and his wife and my eyes would keep drifting over to it as it glowed in the light of the fire. I could not sleep. Satan was singing to me. Soon, the sounds of snoring came from behind the sheet and then a small hand pushed the sheet away. The farmer's wife emerged, smoothing back the sheet. She went to the sink and her eyes never left mine. She poured water into a basin and slowly pushed her nightgown down to reveal her large and beautiful breasts. Even more slowly she began to wash them, taking great care and lifting them as she rubbed the water upon them, softly rubbing her nipples to make them stand hard. She watched me to see if I was watching and as I prayed to God, I could not take my eyes away from her. I felt the natural stirrings a man would feel at this enticing scene and I sat up slowly. She smiled and unfastened her nightgown which fell to her feet, proudly displaying her naked body to me. I could not look away, but as she began to wash her belly, I knew I could overcome Satan and remember that I was a good man, that I was not a sinner anymore and that I would resist this temptation. I closed my eyes, pulled the blanket around my head and lay down, pushing the pain behind me."
Here, he hesitated and gazed at each and every one of us with his perceptive grey eyes and his hand went to the place between his legs and he smiled as he cupped himself. Dehn made a small squeaking sound and moved to replace his hand with hers, but he pushed her away.
"No, " he said softly, then returned to his tale. "She gave a sound of disgust and dried herself, then dressed and joined her husband once more. To make me suffer, she woke him and I could hear the sounds of their lovemaking as I lay on the floor trying to pray to God to deliver me."
"I left as soon as I could without sharing breakfast. My duty dictated that I had to thank the farmer for his kindness and to bless him and his home and so I did, but as soon as I blessed him, I fled into the woods nearby where I flung myself to my knees and began to pray with much serious love for God and his mercy. I prayed for God to tell me why I suffered so, why the lust in my body would not be quelled with the ardor of my soul. Why could I not be holy, why does the beast rage inside of me so terribly?"
Some of us whimpered at this statement and he nodded to us then continued.
"Then God spoke to me. He spoke to me through the singing of the tiny spring birds which danced in the branches of the golden green trees surrounding me. The birds sang, the tiny little birds were calling for their mates to come to them. One little bird was quite near to me and she sang beautifully. Soon her mate flew down to her and they sang together as he mounted her and joyfully they were entwined. This, I knew, was a message from God. God gave us our bodies to enjoy and there was no sin in the act of sex. There is joy in it and God wants us to be happy and so God loves us to enjoy each other. The church was wrong to tell us that when we make love we sin, that when we drink we sin, that when we enjoy ourselves in any way, we sin."
He smiled upon us at that point and to emphasize what he was telling us, he poured a glass of madeira and drank it down, handing the empty glass to Yrybova who kissed it and his hands then refilled it and handed it to him. "Then I heard more singing," he continued. "This time it was the voices of angels, in this instance, three angels who were swimming in the river nearby. Young peasant girls, taking a brief rest from their labors and washing the soil from their bodies. I rose to my feet. God was sending me this gift, the gift of my epiphany and a gift for my flesh. I ran to them and they squealed when they saw me running to them, stripping off my clothing to join them in song and to wash the dirt of Satan from my soul. Their squeals were of joy to see me. We washed each other, sang hymns and gypsy songs and then made love all day, one after the other, on the soft green banks of the river, joy in all of our hearts and God smiling over us."
He laughed a hearty laugh and slapped his knee. "This was how I learned to become a Holy man, a Staretz, and let no one tell you that I am not filled with God. Let no one tell you I am filled with Satan. Look at them and tell them they are mistaken. God is good. God is love."
I was proud to be chosen that afternoon. He took my hand and led me to his blessing room where we undressed and then we made love to honor God.
They were right. It was his eyes. Inside of his eyes I saw God.
