The story of Jon and Sheila's wedding

So I recognize that my last blog post was just over two months ago, on June 16th, or as literary dorks like me like to call it, Bloomsday. Good things seem to happen to me on the 16th (e.g. I was born on that very day in April of 1985), and I've got another great day to add to that list, courtesy of this past Sunday. I will fill you in on all the big things that happened since mid-June (reflections on my first year of teaching, saying goodbye to students for the summer, grad school, and NYC adventures to name a few), but I might as well start off with what's fresh in my memory and work backwards from there.

This past Sunday, August 16th, Jon Proniewski married Sheila Swartz. Allow me to explain why this was such a big deal. Jon and I met at Northwestern and have remained close friends ever since. He's one of the few people who knows what the hell I'm talking about when I say things like "Bloomsday" because I weaned him off his steady diet of Romantic lit for a few quarters and got him to take some Irish lit courses with me. Jon and Sheila met three summers ago at "institute" for Teach For America. They spent the next year dating long distance--Jon was in D.C. and Sheila in Chicago--before Jon returned to the city of broad shoulders in 2007. This was quite lucky for me as I got to spend the better part of a year with my good friend a stone's throw away, and I became acquainted with the extraordinary Sheila Swartz.

About a week after I moved to New York (i.e. the beginning of last summer), Jon called me and started off the conversation by asking, "So, will you be my best man?" His timing couldn't have been worse (I wasn't able to share a celebratory bottle of champagne with him for another few months, in New Jersey no less), but his news couldn't have been much better. Jon was the first of my close friends to get engaged, and I was honored that he tabbed me to stand beside him at his wedding.

I saw Jon and Sheila's relationship evolve over the course of our year spent together in Chicago. It was pretty incredible that they were able to make it work for so long from long distance, but I was more impressed with what they managed to overcome while living together. Both are overachievers with tremendous workloads, and I know that Jon was pretty used to living alone. They navigated through highs and lows, and my last impression before I left for New York was the two of them laughing together and holding hands walking down the twilit sidewalk in Lincoln Park. They were never ostentatious about their love, but I had more than enough images like this in my memory of them being secretly sweet to each other.

Now, why do I mention this detail about Jon and Sheila? After all, this is my blog, not theirs. Perhaps to explain what happened between Jon asking me to be his best man and the actual wedding.

Much like what happens when you go from coach to first class (which has never happened to me, by the way), I was bumped up. Upgraded. Several months ago, Jon asked me to "officiate" his wedding, meaning that I would be the person to lead the ceremony and make it official in the eyes of the law. You may be saying, "Jeff, I know you were Bar Mitzvahed, but I don't think that makes you qualified to go marrying people off" or, "Don't you need to be a priest or rabbi or tribal shaman or something to do that sort of stuff?" And you would be right. That's where the internet comes in. You see, Jon did this officiating business for his friend Grant's wedding, and he was able to do it by becoming an ordained minister for the Universal Life Church Monastery (Dot com).

Apparently it went well, and, since they're not particularly religious, he and Sheila decided that they too would prefer someone close to them to guide their wedding ceremony. Someone who knew them both well, someone who could handle writing a sermon, someone who had spent the last year in Chicago with them, someone who looks dashingly handsome in a suit, someone like ... me.(Okay, maybe they didn't think about the last part, but it didn't hurt).

With Jon and Sheila's wishes clearly presented before me, I went about the strenuous task of becoming an ordained minister through the Universal Life Church Monastery (dot com). It consisted of typing my name AND my e-mail address into their database. Once this was done and I was an ordained minister, I had to go through the much more difficult process of typing my mailing address and credit card information in order to obtain my certification certificate, which I then sent to the State of Ohio along with some other minimal paperwork and a ten dollar check and voila! I was free to administer as many marriages as I wanted--albeit in Ohio. I thought about ordering the ministerial wallet card as well, but I didn't want to look like an amateur.

Let me tell you, becoming an internet-approved minister is a hell of a conversation starter. I would introduce my new status by telling people, "I'm a reverend now. Like Al Green." (FYI Al Green is an actual reverend at the Full Gospel Tabernacle in Memphis, Tennessee). But the gleeful irony of a Catholic Church-raised Jew becoming an ordained minister of a pan-religious organization that exists solely on the internet only lasts for so long. (I trust that it will wear off soon). It was time for me to get down to business and write the text for the wedding ceremony.

This proved to be rather difficult. Jon and Sheila, for all their sarcastic wit, are fairly serious people. The text Jon provided for me in his framework of the ceremony was sparse and succinct. I knew they wouldn't be up for any grandiose saccharine testaments to the majesty and beauty of love, filled with unicorns and mighty white steeds and eternal bliss (because so many other weddings are chock-full of that stuff...). I had to keep it corn-free, but I didn't want it to sound like a funeral. It was very important to me to do a good job on this, too. For all my joking about becoming a minister, I took my responsibility very seriously. I wanted to present something worthy of the occasion, worthy of their relationship to one another. It took me forever to come up with ideas (again, I haven't been to very many weddings), and it took even longer to pen those ideas down. I didn't actually have a final draft of the ceremony that I was confident with until the day before the wedding.

The sermon ended up being a near-perfect balance of gravity, humor, and optimism. I started off a little light so no one would be surprised if I stuck in a joke later on. I talked about what I liked in their relationship, and then I spoke briefly about what I admired in each of them. I waxed poetic on Sheila, expounding on her intelligence and good will with the best words my vocabulary could muster. I then turned to Jon and pretended to be at a loss for something good to say about him, eventually concluding that he has really great hair (which in all actuality he does). The delivery was perfect, especially as I quickly transitioned to the next part of the sermon, leaving the eloquent and accomplished Jon with praise only for his coiffure. The guests loved it, and I had to wait a few seconds for the laughter to die down. It rolled perfectly into the rest of the sermon, which was far more serious. I talked about the importance of love as a verb rather than a noun (thanks, Zev!), about how the action of loving someone has the capacity to make boring, everyday things a little bit wonderful. I thought it was sweet. But not too corny.

The rest of the service flew by. (This was a good thing; it was 90 degrees outside and the sun was shining its demonic, er, angelic rays on us for the entirety of the ceremony). They each said "I do" before exchanging their vows in private. Sheila's astonishingly heartfelt words just about melted me (with the sun's help). I let out a deep sigh at one point, which wasn't such a good idea because I was wearing a microphone headset, and the guests were treated to a big muffled whooshing noise coming from the speakers. They exchanged their rings, and then came the really fun part. I got to say, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

But not before prefacing it with one of the all-time great lines you can ever say at a wedding service: "By the power vested in me by the State of Ohio... and the internet, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Everyone was laughing and applauding and crying. It was awesome. And Jon and Sheila were married. And I was the person that made it so. That still hasn't quite sunk in yet.

The whole experience was nothing short of wonderful. Their friends delivered readings during the ceremony that were funny and sweet and lovely. The groomsmen were great to be around all weekend, and Sheila's friends were thoughtful and interesting (and devastatingly attractive). I love Jon's family, and they were great to me the entire time, even driving me back to the east coast. Sheila's mom threw the whole weekend together, and her father, as it became readily apparent to me, was a man of exceptional character and humor. Jon and Sheila themselves were remarkably relaxed throughout the whole wedding and the days leading up to it (I was with them since Thursday). They took such comfort in each other, and they were working together as a perfect team. Watching them all weekend made Sunday just a little more special for me.

After the ceremony, both Jon and Sheila's fathers came up to me with heartfelt thanks and congratulations. That meant quite a bit. Guests who didn't know me were surprised that I didn't do this sort of thing for a living. Jon and Sheila said they wouldn't have had it any other way. I think everyone enjoyed it, and I hope they were able to catch even a small glimpse of what makes those two so good for one another. I loved every minute of it, and who knows? Maybe it could be the beginning of a beautiful new career. Now if only I could finagle it so I can do Bar Mitzvahs....