As I was driving to Columbia's Stoney Creek Inn last Friday to meet up with my brother Blake and his family (who were in town to do some house-hunting) and also our father and our grandmother, I received a phone call from my wife Bethany. She said, "Question for you: You wouldn't be interested in doing a wedding tomorrow would you?"
I was a bit taken aback at first, but I recovered enough to ask for more information, which she then gave me. Her friend at work--a woman named Sharon--has a husband named John who is a pastor of a local church, and he was supposed to officiate a wedding Saturday afternoon, only he dislocated his hip this morning and is in the hospital and is heavily sedated on account of the pain. He had heard that I was an ordained minister myself (I had just conducted two wedding ceremonies the previous week) and so he asked his wife if she would see if I would be willing to fill in for him. Weighing the moral imperative to do what was right against my aversion to solemnizing a wedding of two complete strangers on just 24 hours notice, I agreed to help out. I was given the bride and groom's contact info and the script for the ceremony Friday afternoon and a heap of thank yous from a well-medicated Pastor John.
Immediately, I called the groom, a fellow named Mark to tell him that I would be on hand to make his big day go ahead as planned. I asked him how he was doing and he said, "I'm okay, but my fiance is sort of freaking out." Understandably so, I told him, but I assured him that they had nothing to worry about. This would be my third outdoor wedding in the past two weeks, and I was confident that things would be just fine. You could hear the weight slide off his shoulders right then and there.
The rehearsal was at four that afternoon, just a few hours after I first agreed to help the young couple out. By five o' clock, a well-planned ceremony had been rehearsed and the bride was feeling significantly better. I've never heard more "thank yous" in all my life. The next day, we met at the winery in Rocheport at 12:30. I went around and made sure everyone in the wedding party knew their role and at precisely 1:00pm, we began the ceremony. Although it was 102 degrees, no one passed out and everything went exactly as planned. The wedding was a huge success and afterward, I was treated like the second coming of the messiah. I told the parents of the happy couple, and the newlyweds themselves, that it was an honor to be able to help them out on their special day. Soon, about 130 people who I'd considered total strangers just one day earlier shook my hand one by one and thanked me for being there for Crystal and Mark. In a strange twist of fate, the wedding reception took place at the same Stoney Creek Inn that my brother was staying at--the same place, incidentally, where all of the out of town wedding guests were staying, too. It seemed like I knew every single person in that place, and I really almost did.
Pastor John tried to give me the money the Hoffman's gave him for his services but I flatly refused. I told him to use that money however he saw fit and to concentrate on his recovery. His hip had been severely displaced and required a medical procedure under general anesthesia to pop it back in. I can't imagine the pain he must have been in. Yet to his credit, the first thought that went through his head when he injured himself was, "I don't want to let that nice young couple down." Well, he didn't let anybody down. And he gave me an opportunity to step outside my comfort zone and do something good for some folks in need. That's quite a gift. You can't put a price on that.
Thanks Pastor John, and congratulations Crystal and Mark!
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