I have always struggled with religion, although on the occasion of my marriage to my late wife Theresa on 16 August 1986, I was willing to completely subordinate my agnostic views to please, in the main, the prospective in-laws and their extended family by having a church wedding.
Aside from the length of the ceremony and the obvious bias towards the Catholic faith, I don’t remember much more of the mechanics of the religious ritual. I do recall, as bride and groom, we frequently had to sit and listen to the priest drone on about some sacred pronouncement or other.
Since then, I have attended many church weddings, and every one has been special – although I judge that principally on the bonds I have with the main players. Nonetheless, the dominance of religion within the union of two people who profess to love each other has always stuck in my craw. I guess that this observation is somewhat contradictory when a service is conducted in a church, but I suspect I am not the only one seated in the pews who feels obliged to belt out a hymn to a deity to whom they have no connection.
Why are secular weddings not more popular?
I acknowledge that globally I may represent a minority view, given that, according to the World Population Review, 85% of humanity associate themselves with a religion. However, within the United Kingdom this connection may be waning, as evidenced by the last census in 2021 where, for the first time, less than half the population described themselves as Christian. No religion was the second most common response, having increased from the previous census by 12 percentage points to 37.2%.
Still, given the prevalence of Christianity in the UK, one who receives a wedding invite can expect for it to include an implied invitation to church. Having been asked to conduct a reading at a recent wedding, I found myself once again within the metaphorical inner sanctum, with a responsibility that significantly exceeded the uneasy rendition of a few hymns and listening to someone dressed in an outfit that seemed – to me at least – wholly unrepresentative of the reality of life.
Weddings outside of church can have magic too
But this time it was different. And this experience had a dramatic effect on me. I fell back in love with the notion of marriage.
The bride and groom had choreographed the most spectacularly intimate occasion, with the proceedings undertaken by a celebrant who oozed compassion and normality. The seated family and friends faced each other across the floor of a small converted barn, rather than facing the usual symbols of religion. This in itself created a profound sense of belonging and union, even if some of us had never met before. We were all there for the same reason – to celebrate the love of two people who had a special place in all of our hearts. No deviation, no confusion, and certainly no reverence to a God who may or may not exist.
A barn wedding full of teary emotion and love
I confess that, as I have become older, my propensity to cry has been well documented. I could physically feel the emotion in the room. As the barn doors opened and the flower girl and page boy appeared, I completely lost it – though on this occasion I was in good company, even if some people, mainly men, contorted their faces to disguise this wonderful outpouring of energising, eclectic emotions.
As I stood and faced the bride and groom in order to read This is Love Monkey by Edward Monkton (chosen on the recommendation of a friend), my voice faltered and the tears appeared on cue. Then I got into a rhythm with the beautiful words that had relevance and true reverence to a couple who had decided to bring together those who love them to celebrate their love for each other. For only a brief moment in time, I defy anyone to cite another location in the universe that contained so much love. Wow!
I truly believe that love doesn’t need to be sponsored by any other individual – real or imagined – except those that fall in love and those that love them.
The reception that followed was banging, with singing waiters and more tearful speeches – but that is another story!
