The One About A Wedding And A Pandemic

In a time of upheaval, we find light in the most peculiar of happenings.

My hands hovered above the keyboard. Perhaps you know the feeling: you have to communicate something difficult, something that may not be well received. My keystrokes were slow and hesitant.

I had to let a lovely couple, Ross and Vanessa, know that with the COVID-19 pandemic I couldn’t officiate their wedding in person. The venue they booked for their wedding had already cancelled, but we were in the midst of brainstorming other possibilities. We could do a backyard wedding. An afternoon ceremony in the chapel of our church with a few guests.

Then, other considerations emerged. An anticipated state-wide “stay at home” order. I recognized a need for all us wobbling humans to be wise instead of invoking our rights. Finally, closing of our church campuses to all non-essential activity decimated our creativity.

Or so we thought.

The other factor at hand at the time was the health of my family. While my wife, daughter, and I weren’t concerned we have an extended family member who is extremely immunosuppressed due to medication. Our contact with the virus may not lead to symptoms, but for our family it could be devastating.

So in summary my email said: “At this time, we’re in self-quarantine. I’m sorry. I can't officiate your wedding. We should wait until after this passes.”

But as I closed the message, a thought came to mind that I initially swept aside.

Come on, I thought. That won’t work.

But these days of pandemic continue to stoke creativity in all areas of life. Tonight Show host Jimmy Fallon records his show from home, on his phone, with his kids as the graphic designers.

Churches shift to online communities, taking what was a side project and making it something far greater.

As I closed the email, I threw out the idea: Perhaps we could do a Zoom wedding?

Surprisingly, Ross and Vanessa loved the idea.

So, at 2:30pm on a Saturday I put on a jacket and tie. I stayed in my “at-home” jeans and remained barefoot, however. It seemed acceptable.

The couple, their friends, their family, and even the dog dressed in their wedding regalia and cleared out the furniture to create a very warm, very holy space. The bride’s family joined via Zoom - they were out of state and obviously travel wasn’t an option.

From my end, it was beautiful. I imagine they’d say the same.

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From both families agreeing to give and receive their respective child in marriage, to the confession, to the vows and the rings - there was a lightness and grace to the whole enterprise. A goodness crafted in a time so odd and out of the norm.

They shared in communion during the service, which was the only time their dog became vocal about the situation. Decked out in his light blue bowtie - barking at the presence of bread. All creation sings out at the good, the real, the beautiful presence of Jesus.

After the pronouncement, we talked a bit about logistics. It was my first virtual wedding. It was their first virtual wedding. We settled the civic details, wished each other well, and I clicked “Leave meeting.”

Leave meeting.

Thinking back on this day, as many of us will do when the virus clears and we turn to whatever the turning world becomes in the aftermath, those words remain in my view.

Leave meeting.

In the mystifying presence of a pandemic, something happened that seemed normal. Despite circumstances that were anything but typical this virtual milestone gave the sense that the world indeed goes on.

I had clicked out of Zoom, but the idea that I had left the meeting was inaccurate. The meeting, if I might use that word, went with me.

As the pandemic continues, as stay at home orders increase, we will need sacred moments like this even more. We’ll need the spaces, words, and intentions that draw us out of our anxious protection and back into the bigger reality. They go with us. These moments are thresholds into worlds we are liable to forget.

The bigger reality has not changed, of course. The Kingdom of God is not in trouble.

But we still need reminders of that reality. These meetings that go with us, carry us forward, are the ones that remind us that we are wrapped up in something bigger.

The moments that tell us that we will move forward even if things are never the same. The Kingdom is adaptable, liquid, moving in and out of our human lives and all the while moving forward.

These moments are the reminders that no matter which chaos we are currently managing, there is a bigger story. There is a story of brides and grooms and commitments weaving two lives together in hope.

Sacraments of bread, wine, and water pop up in homes and apartments throughout our restricted worlds.

We never leave the meetings. Instead, the meetings go with us.

So this lovely couple will tell stories one day of their initial wedding ceremony. I’ll carry this moment in my growing treasure trove of pastoral blessings. We will go forward telling stories of the Kingdom, the commitment, and about the beauty of a wedding in the pandemic.