Julie and Elisabeth got married. Just needs to be said. Beautiful women they are, with beautiful sons. A colorful marriage already. I stood with them at the altar, and pronounced them legally. Here. In Columbia. South Carolina. I’m a minister, ordained back in the Nineties, and suffice it to say, we have travelled a long way since then, and in the truest sense of proclaiming something as “good news,” which is part of the ancient calling of my vocation, I think this fits that
They don’t go to Sunday School. Nor church, hardly ever. Oh, at other times in their lives they have logged countless hours in both, I assure you. The stories and traditions and foundations of faith they are quite familiar with. They are raising good, smart, creative kids. The family business is successful. And for the purpose of this blog, it is duly noted, they have a very healthy marriage, which probably adds to the consternation of the ones who offer copious invitations t
If you had a “destination” wedding fifty years ago something was wrong with you. Well, not actually “wrong,” but it was certainly thought, and probably whispered, “Howard and Madge aren’t getting married in church!” And the conclusion was drawn, either she was pregnant, or he was a crook, or the family was “not from around here,” or the church knew something she wished she didn’t. But today, at least as far as my South Carolina context will prove, “we’ve come a long way baby.