A conundrum about weddings

I remember very clearly one interview I had with a Pastor Nominating Committee years ago.  We had been in conversations for a couple of months, and we were getting serious.  We had a Saturday morning time set aside to make a final discernment together.  I regretted having to call them a few days before that time to tell them I had to reschedule our interview, since a member of the congregation I was serving had just died, and the funeral had been set for Saturday morning.  (I was not far from the PNC's church, so rescheduling was fairly easily accomplished... thankfully.)  We agreed to meet on Saturday afternoon.

When I got to the church the committee was already gathered.  After some informal visiting, we prayed together, and then began our discussion.  Someone asked me how the funeral went... which I always find to be an interesting, if not a little peculiar, question.  I vividly remember looking at this person, and then at the rest of the committee, and saying, "You ought to know this about me.  Most times I would rather do a funeral than a wedding any day.  At least in a funeral, the focus is clearly on God and our need for God's presence in our circumstances.  In many weddings, the focus is on the dress, the tuxes, who's standing next to whom, where to sit family so no one is offended... in other words, almost anything except a clear focus on God and our need for God in that circumstance!"  There was a marked pause, and then folks slowly started to shake their heads in understanding and agreement.  "I can see that," said one.  (By the way, they ended up inviting me to candidate, and I ended up serving as the pastor of that congregation for eight years.  So, they clearly weren't too shocked at my comment.)

To be sure, there are weddings that are an absolute joy to be a part of, and I am grateful for times when I have been invited to be a part of such a celebration of covenantal love.  But then there are "those" weddings... where family members can hardly keep good manners, where everyone is distracted by things (like clothes and who stands where) that really don't make one bit of difference in the long run, where my mention of God almost seems an inconvenient interruption in the events of the day for people.

Over the years, I've come up with an easy solution... but one I doubt if I'll ever see... although one never knows.  I believe that our Presbyterian Book of Order ensnares us in an inescapable conundrum in the first two sentences in the section on marriage (W-4.9000 for those "inquiring minds" among readers).  Here is what it says:  "Marriage is a gift God has given to all humankind for the well-being of the entire human family.  Marriage is a civil contract between a woman and a man."

Now, the Church is going to be wrestling once again at this year's General Assembly in two weeks, focusing on the second sentence above... but focusing on the last six words of that sentence.  I contend that it is the first five words that present us with our dilemma... or at least with the dilemma I have felt over the years.  I'd welcome a day to come where the Church no longer is in the "business" of overseeing "civil contracts" between people in a marriage.  We Presbyterians believe strongly - even vehemently at times - in the separation of Church and State.  Yet here we continue to put ministers at weddings in the position of functioning as an official at a State ceremony, having to sign a State-issued marriage license.  It would be cleaner, in my opinion, and would solve all sorts of dilemmas, if we just declared that we were getting out of the wedding business as a Church!  If people want to be married, then go to the State and have a civil ceremony to satisfy the legalities of a marriage relationship.  But then, if the couple wants to proclaim and give witness to the importance that their faith in God has for their marriage, that is when you would come to the Church.  Then is when there would be a joy-filled worship service, clearly focusing on God as the source of all love and the one who blesses our covenant relationships.

As I said, I'm not going to hold my breath on this one, but I do think that wedding ceremonies then really could be services of the worship of God, asking the Lord to bless this already-married couple and their relationship, giving public witness to the joys, responsibilities, and blessings of what it means to the Church and to our society to live together in a covenant relationship.

Who knows?  I might be surprised some day... and it would be a surprise that I would surely welcome.

Weddings or Funerals? Confessions of a pastor...

I remember the surprised looks on the faces of the Pastor Nominating Committee during an interview a couple of churches ago.  We were having our penultimate interview, trying to decide if God was really leading us all to journey together as pastor and congregation for at least a while.  The interview was scheduled for Saturday morning, but I had had to ask them to reschedule it because someone had died and I was officiating at the funeral that morning.  So I met them that afternoon.

When I walked into the room at their church, we greeted each other and then sat down.  One of them asked how the funeral went, and, for whatever reason, I remember saying, "It was good.  This might sound strange, but I'd rather do a funeral any day than most weddings."  Then came the surprised looks.  After such an outburst of pastoral honesty, I realized I needed to explain my statement!  (And, by the way, I've talked with lots and lots of pastors about this very issue, and most all of them share my sentiment).  I explained what I'll try to share here.

I don't find funerals "fun," although there often is appropriate chuckling as memories are shared.  Neither do I find weddings somber, soul-less events.  What I told that search committee, and what I still find to be true more of the time, is this... In funerals, the focus clearly is on God.  To be sure, there is grief to be shared and memories to recall, but, at least in my religious tradition, the focus on the service is how our trust and belief in the Resurrected Jesus informs how we view death, dying, and grieving.  The focus is clear.  In weddings, the focus is on... what...?

• How the dresses turned out.
• Who's standing next to whom without the order of standees somehow resulting in someone feeling that they've been slighted.
• If the divorced parents are going to be able to behave themselves and play nicely during the wedding and the reception.
• If crazy Uncle Larry is going to refrain from making his usual crude comments about something or someone.
• If cousin Sue is going to put aside her years'-long fight with the MOTB (Mother of the Bride) and show up, or if she's going to boycott the wedding and/or reception.

To say that the focus is on things other than God and our faith is, well, an understatement of incredible proportions.

Then there's the issue of the cost of weddings.  In my part of the country, the average cost of a wedding is about $25,000.  That's the average cost!  And it's a lot higher in other parts of the country.  To me this is, quite plainly, insane!  Do you want to have a wedding, or do you want to use that money to pay for 15% of a pretty decent house?  Seems like a no-brainer to me... but what do I know?

Now, I don't hate weddings.  Well, not many of them anyhow.  But I've tried for the 36 years of my ordained ministry to help couples be relieved of the sometimes unbearable social pressures that have become inseparably bound up in weddings, so that they can actually enjoy the event, and so that their wedding can be what it's supposed to be when it's held in a church:  a service of the worship of God.  This is the one area in which I most consistently have not succeeded in my pastoral ministry.

Maybe I'll be surprised yet before I retire.  Maybe someday a couple will come to me and say, "You know, our parents gave us $25,000 for our wedding, but we decided we'd buy a house instead.  We'd like a wonderful, simple wedding ceremony that allows us to express our undying love for each other within the context of God's never-ending love which sustains and nurtures us.  We'd like our family and friends to be there.  We'd like some coffee and tea and a nice sheet cake in the Fellowship Hall afterwards.  Then we'd like to go away for a few days for our honeymoon, and then return to move into our nice, new home."  Do you think I'll ever be surprised like that?

Nope.  Me either.  But I can still dream, can't I?