Last Sunday I officiated a wedding at the Audubon Woodend Sanctuary in Chevy Chase. Beautiful bride. Handsome groom. Beaming parents. Gorgeous day. And lots of chirping birds.
I’ve officiated the marriages of brides and grooms for more than 40 years. Sometimes it’s two brides; sometimes two grooms. Sometimes indoors; sometimes outdoors. Sometimes simple; sometimes extravagant.
The particulars of a ceremony may vary, but the result is the same: the creation of a covenant between two people witnessed by family and friends. A covenant is like a yoke. It keeps you working together, even when you’d rather wander off or quit.
Through all of life’s vicissitudes, I will be with you. I will. I promise.
The covenant is sealed with vows, rings, and a kiss. And then the couple scurries up the aisle to majestic music.
Last Sunday the grinning bride and groom scurried up the aisle to the theme from Star Wars. I’ve officiated more than 250 weddings. That was a first.
And come to think of it, it’s not a bad idea to introduce a battle motif into a wedding ceremony. It might not be romantic, but it’s realistic. After all, marriage is not all bliss. It’s been called “a crucible of change” for a reason. Which is why my last word to couples is always: Learn how to forgive.
I signed the marriage license, slipped it into my liturgy folder, and then forgot to hand it over. The next day, I put it into a large, flat, manila envelope, and took it to the Shepherdstown Post Office. The clerk set it on the scale and asked me: Does this package contain anything liquid, hazardous, perishable, or breakable?
He pointed to a screen with two buttons: YES. NO.
My finger flickered back and forth over the buttons. I stopped, took a deep breath, and stepped back.
Is there a problem, sir?
Yes, I think there may be. That envelope contains a marriage license.
Thank you for this Randy. Today marks my 35th wedding anniversary; one of your earlier ceremonies— no Star Wars but a bit of Grateful Dead. There were many hazards over those years, the greatest being the devastation of death doing us part. Marriage is not for the faint of heart.
You got that right. Not for the faint of heart or those without a sense of humor! You and Greg were blessed with both. Wishing you many fond memories on this special day.
Hah! Yours is the voice of experience, a thing newlyweds can’t really hear. I sometimes think this may be more broadly true, that the voice of experience cannot be heard by ANYONE who hasn’t already had the experience that the voice of experience is talking about.
You got that right. School of Hard Knocks is hard but it does offer wisdom and I’m pretty sure no one actually graduates. Colors are black and blue. Mascot is a banana peel.
Dear Randy (another blog Dandy)
I read this one looking out on a Maine ocean view from the Deer Island cottage we’ve come to celebrate our 30th anniversary.
Reading your latest epistle I recalled an MD I was acquainted with in a past life. When I walked into his office he was elegantly attired in cummerbund tux adorned with silk bow tie. I said “Doc, have you gotten all fancied up just to see me?” No he said, it’s my anniversary, and I’m off to a celebration dinner after finishing you off. “How many years you been married? I asked. Happily married for 7 years, he replied. Thought you’d been married longer than that, I said.
“Oh I have he said, “but the other 30 have been hell.”
When pausing over your “Yes” or “No” button, I thought about the old Doc’s message, and decided that the happy versus hell question could not be answered in years, but rather in moments.
I love the millions of happy moments Pat and I have shared in our 30 years.
You got that right! “Love does not keep a record of wrongs.” (I Cor. 13). Congratulations to you and Pat. The next 30 should be clear sailing.
30 years today for dave and me. ? we were married in a sanctuary under reconstruction (a foreshadowing?), by an 80 year old eccentric woman (i have a few years before at least part of that applies), and adjourned to our house for the reception, where an upstairs toilet overflowed and water poured down through the chandelier onto the dining room table. Two friends were meanwhile entertaining everyone by mimicking us at our ceremony, while another set up a wishing well on the table. since we were embarking on a blended family, that was only the beginning of our fun. LOL. and i wouldn’t trade it all for a minute (okay, maybe a few).
It takes a sense of humor to turn a near wedding tragedy into comedy. And that works in marriage too.
Thanks. As a current, constant caregiver [of my wife] it gets worse but love and forgiveness help.
Funny how small the world is. Carol and I attended the wedding of our old friends daughter at the Audubon Sanctuary the previous week. It was a Jewish wedding; with the appropriate rituals, including the hava nagila with the bride and groom riding chairs above the heads of a dancing family/tribe/community. I thought of you, having married all four of our children; and how the day so perfectly matched their- mutual vibration; and how your ministration so perfectly fit. I am pleased to know you are still at work. Bradley
Small world indeed. I just wish it were a little smaller so I’d bump into you more often, old friend. Randy
Phil Bufithis
“Marriage is the only adventure open to the cowardly.” Oscar Wilde
Not standing behind Wilde’s statement, just sending it out as a fly ball worth a chuckle.
“Leah, you may now kiss your husband,” you said. 🙂 That was 24 years ago last Monday. It may have been more dangerous for Karl than for me, but I’ll give you that it is a totally transformational experience. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s probably been more dangerous for me. I didn’t realize love deepens more and more with each experience you have together, good and bad.