Dearly beloved –

As you know, I have one of those Mail Order Minister cards. I actually did it back when it was through the mail, envelopes you had to lick, stamps, the whole mail thing. Really. Some day I will comment on the irony of being ‘ordained’ and an atheist. Some day. No longer practicing that belief. Just not ready to explain.

The one thing this little registering of my name and address has allowed me to do is officiate weddings. And officiate I have done! Usually for people looking for unconventional or secular services. (Is secular services an oxymoron?) Truth be told, by me, I am pretty good at this. I write nice ceremonies, can calm the nerve wracked and add humor when the tension is just too much.

Lately I have had to reevaluate this function based on my what I believe and what I am trying to practice in my daily life. Then, this – go figure.

A while back I told an old acquaintance that I would love to be the officiate at her wedding. She was very excited and very much in love. So far, so good.

The details of how the situation came to pass I cannot really tell but it is what it is. And I did say I would be there for them. So I was.

The groom is in jail. He is going to be there for at least 18 months. This was not however a deterrent to them wanting to be married. In fact, it was a motivator, cannot have visitation unless family or spouse. And, I did say I would be there for them. So I was.

In order for a person in custody to be married, the person officiating (me) needs to go with the other to-be-married person to sign for the marriage license. This requires a special form singed by the judge presiding over the case. We had this form. Mailed to the judge on Dec 10, 2007. Signed on Jan 2, 2008. Problem was, that form became obsolete on Jan 1, 2008. Oops.

Now you have to picture this scene, we are in the county recorders office, I am in shirt and tie, the bride is white silk Victoria Secrete PJ’s under her white long coat, with orange flowers and a blue veil. (Her groom was a ‘worker’ so he wore orange work pants and a blue worker shirt, they matched, very cute) The bride as soon as she hears, “Oh, we can’t accept this form anymore. You need to start over”, became first very teary and upset. Just said please don’t do this to me, I just want to get married. Nice, true emotion. The clerk, although looking like she did care, said, sorry, can’t help you.

(decided against quoting here) – the torrent of curse words, complaints and angry insinuation ended with a loud accusation that her 14th amendment rights where being violated. Huh? I did not study so I had no idea what that meant. I did however realize that cursing and yelling at this clerk was not going to help her cause. So there I am, trying to calm and quite my upset bride while trying to gain some understanding from the clerk. The bride is quite, the clerk is listening until, the upset and obviously warm bride takes off her coat. Holy Moly.

I will skip the hoops (was very nice and just kept pointing out when we started and that we had done it all right etc etc) but close to two hours later, we have a license and are on our way to the jail. This is an experience all its own. The guards obviously have seen this enough times, a female visitor in white, with a veil and flowers to know, wedding. We asked for the honeymoon booth to no reply or smile. He did however give us an end booth. That was nice. They, the guards, had the look I am sure most of you had when you started to figure out what was happening here. The other visitors where very gracious and supportive. That was nice. They even clapped at the end.

We chatted a bit, on the phone, through the glass, just like on TV! The bride and I shared a phone. I pointed out that the For Better, For Worse part, sometimes the worse come first, like getting married in jail. So, we settled in and started, just like this:

“Dearly Incarcerated, we are gathered here to day because, well, because we do not have any other choice.”

The bride laughed but, she was nervous. She kept pointing out to her groom and also to me that her cleavage was pink, flushed. A true blushing bride.

He just faked a smile through a look that really made me happy there was glass between us.

I modified a few of the other traditional lines, pronounced them and then left them alone. I needed to be alone for a minute.

I can only pray they are OK, and that the moment being what it was will always be a reminder of what not to do, to make sure never to end up there again. But I have to admit, it was a hoot and I am quite amused by the whole thing, even if I was very over dressed.