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“Well, of course, I prefer funerals over weddings. Doesn’t everyone?”
My colleague and friend clearly thought the original question rather rhetorical. The rest of us nodded in silent agreement. “I’d rather do three funerals than a wedding any day,” said another, perhaps an oblique nod to the famous movie.
The question, “Do you prefer weddings or funerals?” might seem odd. Most of the time, we’re not given a choice. It isn’t like being offered chicken or pasta during that long-haul flight. “Are you sure you don’t have just one funeral left, maybe on the other cart? I really don’t feel like a wedding today …” is not the sort of response that will win you any friends. People die, and we go to funerals; people get married, and we go to weddings: we don’t get to choose.
Nevertheless, the opportunity to have a marked preference between the two does belong to a fairly small cluster of people: those who perform those services. We are the rabbis, priests, ministers, pastors, imams and others who preside at these life milestones.
In early May, a bunch of us officiants was at our local brew-pub talking about the coming wedding season. In our little group, we often describe these as the latter pair of the triad, Hatch, Match and Dispatch. Hatch might be a baptism or a bat mitzvah, or any other rite that celebrates new life or a transition into adulthood. Match and Dispatch are, well, self-explanatory.
Amongst my colleagues “in the biz,” there seems to be a noticeable preference for the Dispatch over the Match. Whenever I share this beyond my clergy circle, the response is one of surprise, disbelief and perhaps a bit of satisfaction as evidence that clergy, as a breed, are a bit twisted. After all, why would anybody prefer a funeral, with all its tears, emotion and anxiety, over a wedding, with all its tears, emotions and anxiety?
Well, weddings often look a little bit different from my side of the bouquets and boutonnieres.
I have to say that I’m all for weddings. My own wedding, some five years ago to my partner of 25 years, was amazing; although in hindsight I wouldn’t recommend such a long engagement. Weddings are fun, full of hope and optimism, with friends and family all coming together to shower love and presents on the happy couple. It’s just that the wedding ceremony – the actual legal thing for which I’m responsible – is generally low on the list of priorities for most couples – well after the flowers, menu, seating arrangements and choice of music for the first dance.
Perhaps this is my own fault. I always encourage the couple to write their own vows, to customize the ceremony in a special way to reflect their relationship and their hopes and dreams. These 20 minutes are, in my mind, the heart of the day, the reason that we’re doing this; and the rest, while loads of fun and important, are the trimmings. It truly saddens me to be told, “just say whatever is necessary,” or asked, “can we shave it down to 10 minutes?” It’s tough for me to accept that what is so important seems almost peripheral or just a hurdle to be run before getting to the party.
Of course, the same thing sometimes happens at funerals. The most common phrase I hear when helping plan a memorial is, “Let’s keep it simple – they wouldn’t have wanted us to make a fuss.” And, often that’s true – the dearly departed has left instructions to “not go to any trouble – just get together and raise a glass or two in my name.” In other words, skip the formalities and move on to the party without any undue delay.
But formalities – rituals – have both tangible and symbolic power, something parties, while great, sometimes lack. This isn’t about being religious, pious or even all that spiritual. Rituals that mark milestones and turning points help us articulate the importance of a moment and fill it with meaning: the arrival of a new member of the family or a coming of age in the community; a declaration of love and lifelong commitment; the recognition of a life lived with all its joys and sorrows, struggles and successes. These are moments to be savoured, relished and nurtured precisely because they are unique and can never be repeated. They are once-in-a-lifetime opportunities and shouldn’t be rushed or glossed over on the way to the open bar, the presents or the buffet.
For me, and many of my clergy friends, what makes funerals preferable to weddings is that, behind the desire to get through this painful moment quickly, is the unspoken need to make sense of what has happened and give meaning to the loss. Life and death are mysteries if not miracles; anyone who has looked into the eyes of a newborn baby or held the hand of someone taking their last breath understands this universal truth. It’s more than sociology, biology, theology or any other -ology, can adequately explain.
In the coming months, I have several “matches” already in the planning stages. They will be joyous and I’m glad I’ve been chosen to perform the rites for the happy couples. I know of a few “hatches” that we’ll celebrate as well. And, there will undoubtedly be moments when I help honour lives lived and wish the ones we’ve loved and lost well on their way to whatever lies beyond this reality. At the end of the day, none of us really get to choose whether we mark these milestones – but we do have the choice in how we make the most of them.
Daniel Benson lives in Toronto.
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