Local journalist discovers common thread between newspaper reporting and officiating weddings

Torrential rain had marked the first half of the day, a mark of how the climate change wrought by human hands has been reshaping the Hudson Valley. Looking over my notes, my eye catches a line that I use in every ceremony: “Today is a beautiful day for a wedding.” I use it every time, because it’s always going to be true. What makes a wedding beautiful is not what’s in the sky; it comes from the hearts and minds of the people who gather to bear witness to the most celebrated rite of passage in our society. 

One should not say that the weather doesn’t color an event like this. Save for the first wedding I officiated — a semi-elopement for family members that I had to conceal from my own spouse for the sake of the surprise — they’ve all been outside. One of them took place in my oldest friend’s New Paltz back yard, on a June day that brought out all the colors in the flowers — and had the photographer working overtime to compensate for the light levels. The other took place on a promontory overlooking the Hudson at the end of a trail, on a day full of blustery winds that snatched the words from our mouths as they were spoken. I’ve learned this summer that weather forecasting is still more art than science, and could not predict what color the skies might be when I was due to arrive that afternoon at Bad Seed Cidery in Highland, which would be the site of ceremony and reception alike. I’d walked the grounds, though, and I knew that it would be a beautiful day for a wedding. 

When I was ordained as a minister, it was not with the intention of solemnizing weddings. One of my faith traditions doesn’t use a celebrant at all, in fact. I secured that piece of paper because ministers can gain access to places not everyone can, including correctional and mental health care facilities. As an author of a book on mental health, I wanted to be able to provide spiritual support to someone in crisis, if ever I was called on for that purpose. Marriage was not my intended ministry. 

Being a stepparent is a dicey affair. Your presence can feel threatening to the child of your spouse, to the other biological parent, or even to your spouse if any of these people feel like you’re inappropriately exercising parental authority. An easier path might be to remain cool and somewhat distant, avoiding making waves — or connections. I believe that every child benefits from having relationships with adults other than their parents, and did my best to provide that, but with kids it’s not always easy to tell how you’re doing. Being asked to officiate the kid’s wedding was pretty solid feedback, and I wasn’t about to say no. 

After performing my second wedding — for a friend I’ve known for close to 40 years — one of the guests reached out to ask about hiring me. The message also went to Michele Zipp, one of the most highly-regarded wedding officiants in our area. I knew I wasn’t in a position to do this work for strangers, and I heartily endorsed their using Michele, who is a consummate professional. I know it was the right choice for that couple, but I was left wondering if maybe that wedding guest saw something in me that I should be bringing into the world. After sitting with it for weeks or months, I brought that question to Michele over coffee. What I got was a thoughtful conversation about what the work requires, and why there’s room for someone like me and someone like Michele in the same field. Not every officiant is a good fit for every couple, Michele told me; there would be couples who dig my bearded face and booming voice, and couples that gravitate to Michele’s reiki-infused celebrations. This is the Hudson Valley, a stupendously beautiful region in which to get wed, and there’s always room for another officiant who knows how to connect with people. 

By early afternoon, the intermittent rain had ceased, and the sky was brightening. I’ve finished transcribing the ceremony into the book I’ll be carrying. Putting pen to paper is part of my process; I don’t memorize what I’m going to say, but I do want the emotion and weight of it to sink in. Copying it in pen takes longer than the ceremony itself will, because like most of my clients, this couple wants a wedding ceremony that’s short and meaningful. The brevity also reinforces another popular preference, namely avoiding overtly religious themes in my remarks. I have no problem presiding over the lighting of a unity candle or the breaking of a glass — both of which happened at Bad Seed — but if my clients want me to talk about a specific religion, then they must give their explicit consent. In this case, those two ceremonies said far more about the couple and their traditions than I could have with words. 

I’ve come to realize that, for me, officiating weddings and writing for a local newspaper have a lot of overlap. Both are about telling stories, rather than being the story. Each involves asking many, many questions, without any discernible pattern or reason — in order to discover and reveal the thread of that story. This requires more listening than speaking or writing, and it requires listening to the silence as well as the words. What’s different between these two styles of storytelling is that, unlike in journalism, we begin from a place of trust. My wedding clients are downright eager to spill details about their thoughts, their feelings, and their lives. We are weaving the tapestry of this story together in partnership. People only ask a reporter for a copy of an article when something complimentary was said; I get asked for copies of my wedding speeches because something complimentary is always said. A wedding in front of friends and loved ones is a celebration of joy, and being able to lift that up is a joy in itself. 

The sun is shining over the bucolic landscape at Bad Seed Cidery by the time we’re ready to begin. I stand under an arch that’s placed before a stately old tree, looking out at the assembled guests. The roll of the hill forms a natural amphitheater, allowing for everyone to have a good view. While I am confident my voice could reach them all, the DJ’s sound system saves me that effort and allows me to focus my energy on the two people who placed their trust in me, and now approach. “Friends, thank you for joining us! This is a beautiful day to get married, and it is made all the more beautiful by your presence.” No truer words have I ever spoken. 

Terence P Ward is a wedding officiant based in the shadow of the Shawangunk. Learn more about Terence’s wedding services by visiting weddings.inthegunks.com.