COVID Tested: Why I’d Rather Officiate at a Funeral than a Wedding

It’s the end of September and I have yet to attend a wedding. Which is unusual given that I make a living marrying people — other people that is.

By this time last year, I performed four weddings, on four consecutive weekends, in three different states. I have certainly had a front-row seat to more than my fair share of wedded bliss, all thanks to my starched white clergy collar.

The first time I presided at a wedding it was of the traditional church variety. Pews, hymns, candles. It was all very predictable. But I have also officiated at a swanky hotel ballroom wedding, surroundings that prompted me to discreetly offer my hand palm up to a gum-chewing groom while all eyes were still focused on his approaching bride. I have performed countless backyard and beachside weddings, slathered in a coat of sunscreen and bug spray. I have braved a boat cruise wedding, hoping against hope I would finish the ceremony before my Dramamine wore off. I have even officiated at a wedding in the Museum of Science’s Theater of Electricity, including a finale where the couple stood in a metal birdcage high above those gathered as bolts of simulated lightning crackled all around them.

When it comes to weddings, I’ve seen just about everything.