In September of 2011, I married a Pakistani Muslim groom and an Irish Catholic bride. They created much of the script themselves, careful to emphasize the similarities between their religions. Many of the points they made were powerful in a way I hadn’t thought of myself.

Halfway through their script at the wedding I realized it was September 10th — the eve of 9/11′s 10th anniversary! Phew, when it hit me as I looked out at the bride’s side (Irish) and the groom’s side (Pakistani), I almost mentioned my realization — but the couple had not referred to it as part of their planning process so I felt I had no right to bring it up.

After the wedding, the groom’s grandfather came up to me — he and other family members had traveled from Pakistan to be present. He asked if I had seen him listening intently during the ceremony. “Yes, sir, I did notice, you were very attentive at both the rehearsal and tonight,” I responded. “Well, you see, I have to be honest — I was listening for a sour note. It’s so difficult to avoid them when two religions are coming together. But I didn’t hear one, not one. Thank you.”

I immediately gave credit to his grandson and bride who originated much of the script, and he accepted, then said: “I know, but you were the one saying the words, and I didn’t detect any hesitations on your part. I want you to know his mother and father and I would be very pleased if you would come and visit us in Pakistan.” WOW! I thanked him profusely, and said we could chat about it later.

What happened when I got into my car was a revelation. The valet handed me the keys, I drove to the exit of the parking lot and had to turn off the ignition. I was sobbing too hard to drive. It suddenly hit me that on the eve of 9/11, I had united two very different groups of people, Muslim and Catholic — and things had gone so well.

I looked back to the parking lot of the Notebaert Museum where the event was happening, and saw about a dozen young men dressed alike, standing around, smoking and chatting. They were the valet parkers — with time on their hands until later that night.

I got out of my car and called them together. “Did you all notice that there were two very different groups of drivers tonight?” I asked them. “Yes,” they agreed. And with tears rolling down my face, I shared with them what had just occurred.

“Wow, that’s awesome!” was what many of them said, then a couple of them took my hands and said “Thank you for telling us about this!” I was finally able to drive home.

Another blessed wedding ceremony, another tiny change in the way the world creates itself!

11/11/11

It began at 11:00 a.m. when I married a couple who contacted me a few days before — both Russian Jews (this was my very first wedding where both partners were Jewish, always interfaith before). They had planned to go to City Hall, but it was closed for the holiday. They have been in love since the age of 7 when they met at school in Russia, separated a year or so later because Arkady moved with his parents to this country. They lost contact, both married other people, and only found each other again in 2007. We had a very sweet wedding down by Lake Michigan, and they agreed it was a lot better than City Hall!

Then out to the far western suburbs to marry two Catholics, American and Mexican, in her family home. It was a strongly RC group, and I think they were surprised at how different (and lovely) a wedding could be outside the church. YAY!

That night, a Russian Jewish bride and American groom, both shy and excited — happening, very appropriately, at Zhivago in Skokie. Great celebration, and a great day!

It started out last night with an outdoor wedding under huge trees at a place called On The Green — the weather was relatively cool, sunny — and we were all in the shade, yay!  The bride, Brianne, had asked me to begin by calling in the directions, something that has happened only a handful of times in the past 13 years.  Beginning with this always takes us to a deep place right away.  Wonderful!

The rest of the ceremony was very personal, sweet and meaningful — tailored for this special couple.

Then we come to this morning.  At 10:00 a.m., I met Rey and Sergio (and two of their dear friends) at their local bakery.  I was fortunate to assist them with their first commitment ceremony on 5/15/04 — over seven years ago!  Today, I led them through a brief but very moving civil union wedding so we could complete the signing of their new license.

The energy between them was powerful, soft and deep — there had been a few edges back at the original wedding, this time, there were none!  They told me that, in all this time, they have spent only one night apart — and that was hard for both of them.

As they turned to one another and spoke their deeply heartfelt vows, my eyes filled with tears.  Another miracle of connection, sharing and love — another covenant for me to witness and appreciate.

More tears, more sweetness this afternoon at the wedding of Kristen and Tony ‘way out west in the Naper Chapel.  Their connection runs strong and true, and the joy they radiated as they saw one another for the first time today was very special.  They had chosen the language in their script very carefully, and several of their guests asked me afterwards if they could get a copy of various sections.  When I said I would be glad to send sections to them if they emailed me, they were delighted, and said they would follow up with me soon.  Gratifying!

Is it any wonder that I love this work?  Depth, passion and commitment are my daily bread, and I get to be the doorperson for these couples as they step through to this new phase of their relationship.  Wonderfilled!

Blessing and glory and thanksgiving to all mothers — and a desire to share a tiny noticing and observation in honor of this day. Sorry, this remembrance is a bit late in arriving.

In my living room window, I have many plants — this is the story of two of them. On my birthday last year, my cleaning lady gifted me with an orchid — one of those supermarket specials. I was amazed and grateful.

I treated this new addition to my home with benign neglect. You see, I’ve been gifted with orchids before — and have gone out of my way to replant them, finding just the right soil, just the right pot, just the right window. They never bloomed, they never lived very long.

This time, I just placed the little plant inside of an existing pot half filled with soil. I left it in the same plastic pot it arrived in, made no effort to repot it — watered and fertilized it when I did the other plants.

Then, 8 days ago, I noticed it had three very big buds. The only extra care I took was to give it more water. The biggest bud blossomed into a beautiful orchid flower. WOW!

Over the next couple of days, I watched the Dracaena next to the orchid. It moved its leaves to gently touch the flower. So I turned it away from the orchid. Over the next few hours, the Dracaena extended its long, narrow leaves close to the bloom until they again connected.

All this is to notice that there is communication and connection even when we think there is none. Also, whenever she saw me affecting the plants, Pepper (small tabby cat) watched, and immediately came to me when I was done.

I welcome all of us, plants, animals and humans alike — to touch one another, to listen to one another — and especially NOT to disconnect for any reason whatsoever. Blessings to all, especially the mothers among us, Marian

 

The sun is shining.  Everything is green and fresh and the air is clear beneath a blue sky.  What a difference a day makes.

I had a wedding at the Silver Lake Country Club in Orland Park yesterday afternoon, and knew how much time the drive would take because I had attended the rehearsal the previous afternoon.  But because the weather was threatening thunderstorms, I left an hour earlier than before.  The ensuing drive was truly terrible.

It wasn’t just the amount of traffic.  In fact, by the time I reached I-294 for the drive south, traffic was moving – slowly but still moving.  It was driving along side streets in order to reach the ramp to the expressway that was the problem.  Tree branches, even small trees, were knocked down by the sudden gusts of wind, and the bypass lanes were one-lane and very crowded.  I phoned the couple’s cell phone to let them know of my predicament, and they were very understanding.  In fact, all of their guests were in similar situations.

I arrived at the country club and parked my car exactly at the moment the wedding was scheduled to start — 6:30 pm.  My usual practice is to get to a venue 30 minutes ahead of time, this was unprecedented.  But guests were only beginning to make their way down to the site so my timing was not a problem.  And wonder of wonders, the sun came out to shine on this very special couple, and all of us there.  I told the bride:  “I don’t know who your connection is for weather up there, but it’s a good one!!!”  We all laughed, and celebrated their lovely wedding.

Occasionally, something happens at a wedding that is unplanned and sweetly awkward.

It might be the flower girl who proceeds all the way up the aisle with her basket of petals intact — then dumps it all in one go at the front. Yes!

Or the ring bearer, very young and very tired, who is carried up the aisle by his daddy and needs to keep the little pillow for his own tousled head. Sweet!

A few years ago, I wrote a little poem about this phenomenon — this humanizing through error — this creation of memories through mistakes. And I called it:

In Praise of Awkward

I wish I weren’t so perfect,
So right in every way,
‘Cause if I weren’t so perfect,
I’d be a lot more brave.

When I was one, I made mistakes,
Fewer when I was two.
Now I’m grown up and never err,
Which makes me scared, like you. . .

. . .’cause when you never make mistakes,
You’re perfect, yes, that’s true.
But oh how long you have to take,
Just checking things you do.

You check to get the words just right,
The music must be fine
And when your checking’s all complete,
You check just one more time.

So with this checking care you take,
There’s no time to be bold,
No time to state uncertain thoughts,
You’re checking ‘til you’re old.

I wish I weren’t so perfect,
So right in every way,
‘Cause if I weren’t so perfect,
I’d be a lot more brave.

Blessings to you, and for all of us, sweetly memorable weddings!

A wedding at the Crown Plaza last weekend went beautifully, and I was especially taken with the musicians — a string quartet whose members regularly play with the Symphony.   I was thrilled when the violinist came up to me at the end of the ceremony and said: “That was wonderful.  I was particularly moved when you held the microphone for the bride and groom’s’ vows so that they could be heard.  I go to so many weddings where all you hear from beginning to end is the minister.  It’s one of my strongest peeves about weddings.  After all, who are we here to listen to?  But you simply held it for them – we couldn’t even hear you – we heard them.  That was just lovely.  Thank you.” 

I thanked her, too, and told her that such feedback is very helpful for me – I really only go to my own ceremonies, and am just doing what feels right.  I learned early on to do this with the microphone — it’s always seemed important for the couple be heard saying their vows to one another.  And this is something that is often a surprise, a very moving one, for their guests.  Lovely.

Last weekend, a beautiful wedding – at the Hilton Thorndike Chapel (Univ. of Chicago) – a tiny, beautiful chapel that seats about 50 guests. It has high ceilings and the same deep blue stained glass windows as the Bond Chapel, but is an exquisitely small, perfect place – and was lit by candles at 4:00 in the afternoon. Outside in the hallway, a group of young people played Celtic music. And the bride and groom were so very much in love.  I look forward to doing another ceremony at this chapel, and wonder if the magic will be there again.  Wonderfilled.

Many couples who contact me to assist them with their weddings are unchurched.  And they’re unchurched not because they’re lazy or thoughtless, just the opposite.  They have made a conscious decision that the church of their childhood simply doesn’t speak to who they now are, and I deeply respect that.

About half my clients come from Catholic backgrounds — they seek me out because they want to get married in an outdoor setting, and a priest can’t do that.  Or perhaps one of them isn’t Catholic, or has been divorced.  Together we create a beautiful script that reflects their relationship.  Even firmly RC family members are moved by what we put together.

One story I love to tell is about marrying an older couple from a strong Catholic background.  When I stood up at the front and looked out at the bride’s side and the groom’s side, I saw folks in their 60s, 70s and older who began by just glaring at me (it was obvious I was not a priest!)  At the end of the ceremony, I blew out the unity candle and finished up at the front until when I turned around, there was one tall gentleman with white hair standing there alone — looking at me.  I went up to him and asked if there was anything I could do to assist him.

“Well, I just want to tell you something!”  Uh oh, here we go.  “Yes, sir, what would you like to tell me?”

“I didn’t get my nap in!”  Hmmm, how does one respond to that?  “Oh, I see, you mean because this wedding was shorter than a full Catholic mass?”  “Yes, it was shorter, but that’s not why I didn’t get my nap in.”

This was beginning to feel like pulling hen’s teeth.  “Okay, sir, please tell me why you didn’t get your nap in?”

“Because it was interesting!”  By now, he had a twinkle in his eye, and we gently laughed together as he told me how much he had enjoyed the freshness in the language he had witnessed.  “If my late wife and I could have gotten married like this 55 years ago, we would have done that!”

Can you see why I love doing what I do?

Heading out to my first gay wedding, I felt oddly nervous.  I had been an interfaith wedding officiant for over two years at that point, and very comfortable with the entire process.  So the nervousness was surprising.

The anxiety arose from what I had learned about their family relationships.  One partner’s mom and dad, although divorced and living in different parts of the country, were flying in to support their son on his special day.  The other groom’s mom and siblings lived down the street from where the ceremony was taking place.  They had decided not to come, stating their reasons in no uncertain terms.  So I was concerned they might try to crash the celebration, and feeling very protective of my two grooms.

Everything went off beautifully.  We had met several times to create a script that truly reflected their relationship – and one of the things they included was a flower ceremony.  This is a lovely option for a smaller wedding (fewer than 50 guests).  On a table up front sat a large crystal vase filled with water, and lying beside it, long stalks of lilies and roses.  Soon after the wedding began, I invited everyone present to come up, add a flower to the vase and share a hug or a few words with the couple.  I mentioned there was no pressure to participate – the grooms had been very clear that no one be made uncomfortable by this.

Several friends came forward and spoke with depth and passion about these two young men and their wedding day.  Then the father who was present stepped up to the front.  He chose a flower, turned to his son and said the words that, up until that moment, he had not said.

You see, even though he had flown many miles to be present, he had not yet been able to accept fully that his son was marrying another man.  But with the rose in his hand, the formality of the occasion and the magic of what was happening finally got to him.  The words that emerged were words of love, complete acceptance and full support.  And the tears flowing down his face added weight to these words, as did the long hug that he and his son shared.

Every time I tell this story or even read it, I choke up.  It was a wonderful, transformative and deeply affecting moment.

After the wedding, I stayed for the reception, unusual for me.  It was lovely to chat with the friends of this young couple, and to find out that, for many of them, this was their first gay wedding too.  One sweet man came up to me, holding the hand of his partner, and said:  “I really didn’t know what to expect.  Some of the people I work with told me this would be a joke.  But it wasn’t, it was beautiful.  Thank you so much for what you do!” 

But I was the grateful one.  And as one of the grooms stood waiting for their limo, I went up to him and said:  “I’m so sorry your mother decided not to be with you today.  I know she would have loved this.”

He thoughtfully replied:  “Yes, I think so too.  But I accept that she’s doing what she feels is right for her, and only hope that one day soon she’ll be able to come visit us, spend time with us.”

I took his hands in mine, and told him:  “I want to let you know that, if you were my son, I would be very proud of you!”

That night, sleep came reluctantly — it had been an exciting and stimulating day.  I finally drifted off, and when I awoke the next morning, the world had shifted.  The words that came almost immediately are these:

For a legal (hetero) wedding, there can be all kinds of reasons, agendas if you will, for this event to be taking place.  There can be a baby on the way, pressure from the family, even pressure from the church.  There can be tax reasons, other financial reasons – or even a Green Card!

For a gay wedding, none of these agendas apply.  It happens because two people want to stand side by side and be witnessed making a life commitment to one another, that’s the only reason for it.  And this is so clean, so pure, so simple – I love assisting couples with their commitment ceremonies, holy unions – whatever these ceremonies are called.

Personally, I call them weddings!

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