GUEST COLUMN: The marriage of heaven and hell

Nathan Smith says it's time toNathan Smith says it's time torevise our thinking about 'holy'Nathan Smith says it's time torevise our thinking about 'holy'matrimony and its traditions. Nathan Smith says it's time torevise our thinking about 'holy'matrimony and its traditions.Having attended my mother's wedding this past week, I've been thinking a lot about the ceremony and its significance. It seems to me that much of the ordeal has survived simply because no one has bothered to question its purpose. The main purpose nowadays seems to be to give everyone a chance to party, and to provide a meat market for all the single acquaintances of the bride and groom. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time at my mother's wedding, but there were certain aspects I found quite discouraging. Let me digress for a moment and tell the story of one such aspect. When the time came to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, I was just coming out of the bathroom. I realized all too late that the good seats had been taken, so I got stuck between my stepfather-to-be's old business partner and some rotund drunken guy babbling about gambling. So I quietly sat down, pondering the fact that tomorrow my mother would be tying the knot, clamping on the old ball and chain, giving up the single life for good. I faded in and out of my reveries, wondering how anyone could really be ready for marriage (especially a second marriage), occasionally catching snippets of the drunk gambler's conversation. "I'll tell y'all, there's two people I don't wanna play poker with again is Drummond and Brandon. Shit, last time they took me for more than I had." He laughed, jiggling multiple chins as he described his loss to my mom's fiancZ (Drummond) and his son. The caterer set down enormous plates of seafood, and Drummond stood to say the blessing. To my surprise, he only gave an introduction. "I'm going to let Father Thomas give the blessing for dinner tonight." To my even greater surprise, the drunken loudmouth next to me stood and gave the blessing. This was Father Thomas? This redneck who doesn't even have a good poker face has the power vested in him to speak on god's behalf in sanctioning the lifelong union of two people? It's a good thing my mom and her fiancZ really love each other, because the marriage contract bearing this guy's signature might as well be hand-written on a premoistened towelette. My impression of the man only got worse. The minister, whom I had presumed had been through this ceremony at least once before, seemed to have his own version of the wedding vows as well as the rules of English grammar, which unfortunately resulted in my mother and stepfather promising to have and to hold one another, "'til death us do part." Us do? Not only is that offensive to the ear of English majors such as myself, it's not even the way the vows are supposed to be pronounced. If I had had any faith in traditional marriage in the first place, it certainly would have been shaken by my newfound understanding that there must be mail-order minister's certifications available through the Sally Struthers School of Theology. Personally, I'd feel more comfortable having Father Thomas fix my air conditioner than marry me. Certainly I harbor a general distrust for the clergy, but it is the entire process of preparation, ceremony, and recovery that needs an overhaul. The first step, obviously, would be to do away with having some questionable authority sanction my marriage on God's behalf. The power to pronounce any two people as man and wife should stem solely from their own hearts. Second would be the removal of the word "death" from the vows. It seems an inappropriately dismal, morbid promise to be making on a supposedly joyous occasion. Not only that, but it sounds so very imposing and irreversible, it's surprising more people don't keel over on the altar when faced with such a commitment. But these are only the most minute details; I am in fact dreaming of much more radical changes in the execution of a marriage. The whole thing is rather archaic and inefficient, an anachronism in our era of instant gratification. So I've designed a little something I like to call the "composite wedding," in which the bachelor party, bridal shower, wedding ceremony, reception and honeymoon are all combined into one easy step. As soon as the guests are assembled, they begin drinking heavily in the pre-wedding (and for that matter, post-wedding) tradition. Gifts are not opened, but instead piled in the corner as everyone already knows they will be returned for cash within a week (a wedding tradition I deem worth keeping). Once the guests are appropriately out of control (by this point at least one person should be wearing a lampshade), a large cake is wheeled to the center of the room, out of which pop the bride and groom to perform a strip tease while the onlookers throw rice. Once naked, they take out and exchange the rings (I needn't go into detail as to where they have been stored during the strip tease), and say in all heartfelt sincerity, "Baby, you got sauce." With that, the couple now has God's permission to start working on producing members of the next generation (or Generation Y). Presently, they are to be carted off to their honeymoon. However, to maintain all aspects of the wedding in one neat little package, a bus should be chartered so that all of the guests can be whisked away to Niagara Falls with the newlyweds. Of course, in place of the traditional private limousine ride, the back seat of the bus should be reserved for the consummation (guests should be encouraged to stop taking pictures by this point). Finally, the whole group returns from its special weekend of romance and quickly realize that it's all a downhill slide into routine boredom from that point on. Sound a bit ridiculous? Does it lack the power and meaning of religion and tradition? Perhaps so, but to anyone posing this objection I would suggest thinking for a little while about why brides wear white.