And You're the One who Jaded Me

So, not to be a Debby Downer, but when given the option to choose between the dead and the living, I am beginning to find myself inclined to work with the dead.  I find that they almost never talk back.  Fr. Mike has all but begged me not to become jaded and cynical about weddings.  I understand why he is so concerned.

On Memorial Day, I met with a couple who had been prepared for marriage elsewhere.  They were planning to be married here in Rapid, and I was helping them facilitate the process.  The bride-to-be was super demanding and things needed to be "just right."  Which was fine.  Mostly.  I wanted things a particular way for my ordination too.  I did not, however, expect the Cathedral Staff to put their lives on hold nor to assume that my ordination was THE most important event of the summer.  Moreover, I didn't change the principle celebrant of the Mass three times.  Nor did I expect my chancery to bend over backwards to accommodate a priest from another diocese who didn't get his paperwork done on time.  This bride did do all of these things.  On a day when I was involved in the funeral rites for three dead people (two of whom were Father and Daughter) I was not particularly well equipped to deal with anyone's nonsense.  I became even less well equipped when it was announced to me that another couple I am working with are threatening to get married in a park because I forbade children who cannot walk, wagons, and flower petals from the wedding. 

Equipped or not, I was scheduled to do the wedding rehearsal.  The groom was twenty minutes late.  That helped my mood a lot.  It also helped my mood a lot when the bride insisted that the way I had spaced the wedding party was incorrect, and that the photographer would be inconvenienced.  Father's willingness to make concessions was reaching its limit.  What really took the cake, however, is when after the rehearsal the bride tried to tell me that I would not be concelebrating the wedding, but that I should not take it personally.  In my own diocese!  In my own Church!  Suffice it to say that she found herself gravely mistaken.