#Catholic Matrimony Script | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

new-endings · 5 years ago

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The Nice and Accurate Guide to Courting

Was I supposed to go to church and find out myself that it��s World Marriage Day? yes again i know it’s a catholic thing but these two are V MARRIED and deserve to celebrate.

Anyways here’s a thing I posted on ao3

Summary: As Hell’s bastard prince, Crowley is expected to wed an Archangel of Heaven’s kingdom to bring peace between the two warring nations.

It really is too bad he only has eyes for his sweet, bastard of a Guide, the Principality Aziraphale, who is dead-set on making sure the engagement happens.

For the sake of their kingdoms, Aziraphale leads him through the long, arduous road of winning an Archangel’s favor and affections. However, Crowley would much rather use that romantic guidance to win him over instead.

-as Dictated By Anathema Device, Written in Full Detail By Newton Pulsifer

Step 1: Select the Target (of your Affections)

And thus sayeth the Lord of Heaven:

The wars are pointless. Might as well make a ceasefire. Hey, here’s an idea: bring your most expendable pawn to join in unholy matrimony with one of my elitist wankers to bolster this war-ruined economy.

Or rather, that’s how Crowley perceived the whole ordeal to have gone.

Perhaps a tad cruder than the grand scrolls with its elegant scripts, wriggly signatures and glorious crests and coat-of-arms adorning the designated treaty between their two kingdoms would lead others to believe. But in the end, that hardly mattered to Crowley.

Because spectacle and ceremony aside, Hell really did send their more expendable (but still Royal-Enough-to-Count) pawn to join in unholy matrimony with one of Heaven’s damned Divines. With the Archangels—anointed by the Queen herself as miniature de facto rulers of Heaven’s domains. Sneering, snobbish, stuffy and insufferable and this scheme—

Suicidal. This entire trip, the entire ordeal, and the very notion that the precariously perched balance of peace laid within Crowley, Bastard Prince of Hell’s, begrudging hands— is utterly stupid.

Crowley scowled as he eyed the Garden’s flora. The wisteria withered under his gaze, petal quivering in the face of the sour aura exuded from the sulking Prince. But could they really blame him? Flowers know nothing of having one’s whole life centered around the illegitimacy of one’s birth—constantly reminded of their position as the withered, rotting branch the imperial tree, and then all of a sudden being Granted this fine opportunity to bring honor and peace to his damned Kingdom with the underlying threat of You better not fuck this up looming over their heads—

He heard commotion from beyond the castle gates and the ominous barking of hellhounds beneath. He let a grin snake across his lips. Ah. So the search begins.

He knew galivanting off to make some trouble would earn him a proper reprimand now that they were actually trying to make nice with the Birds, but who did they have to blame it on but themselves? After all, Crowley spent many-a-year crafting his extensive history as a terrorizing nuisance, an intolerable annoyance, an antagonizing—

“Oh, dear…”

Angel?

Crowley peeked behind the archways, catching sight of cloud-puff hair and nervous, wringing hands.

Attached to, unsurprisingly, an Angel, looking down at the ensuing mad scatter below.

There was a curious pull; something that Crowley didn’t bother to question as he inched forward and leaned against the cool stone of the curtain wall. “That one went down like a lead balloon, eh?”

Rather than flinch, the Angel let out an absentminded laugh. “Yes, rather.” He paused, the realization that there was another presence dawning on him. He turned. “Err. Sorry, what was it that you were saying?”

Looking back at it, Crowley would have sworn up and down his breath caught at the sight of cherubic cheeks, sea-storm eyes, and worried-bitten lips. But in reality, the single word Pretty passed through his brain at such an alarming speed that Crowley barely had the attention-span to catch it as the Pretty Angel looked to him expectantly to answer.

Crowley stepped forth from the cool shade of the trees and joined the curious Angel at his perch. “I said that one went down like a lead balloon.”

“Oh. I suppose you’re right.” His eyes flickered down and he brought his hands together. There that nervous habit was again.

Crowley cleared his throat, eyes overlooking the bailey to the dots of villages over the horizon. “I think it was a bit of an overreaction, to be honest.”

The Angel beside him shrugged, an uneasiness in his voice. “He’s a Prince.”

Ah. So that’s what this Angel was concerned about. He tried to keep the mirth from his voice. “And shouldn’t his footmen have been keeping a better eye on him because of that?” Hats off to Hastur and Ligur for being the best of the worst—Crowley knew he did well in selecting them. “It’s of no consequence to you, Angel.”

“What—of course it does!” Crowley raised a brow as the angel began to fluster all over again. “Oh, dear…He’s supposed to be my charge! I was to be his Guide in our Kingdom!” Panic started to creep into his voice all over again. “I haven’t even met him yet and now—he’s gone!”

It took perhaps a second or two to register what exactly this Angel was saying. Charge? This lovely fool of an Angel—was to be his Guide?

Huh. Maybe Crowley’s luck was taking a turn for the better after all.

“Where could he be? This is terrible—he must feel so lost right now! And alone!” Crowley gave a fascinated smile and was just his luck that the Angel missed it as he cast his eyes to the skies above for guidance, and then earthward for commiseration as the hellhounds sniffed fruitlessly for a trail that Crowley was more than adept at throwing off.

A plan drowsily wormed its way to Crowley’s thoughts. Perhaps he could have a bit of fun here as well. “Hang on there, Angel. I’m sure your charge isn’t too far off.”

The Angel did a double-take at the mysterious figure shrouded in dark robes—perchance comprehending for the first time that he was not conversing with another Bird. “Did you know the Prince? I ah, assumed you arrived with him,” he asked imploringly. “Perhaps he was merely hungry and wanted a nibble. Or—or he spoke of wanting to visit someplace in the Kingdom?”

That startled a laugh out of Crowley. He lowered his hood, fiery red hair and amber eyes unveiled to the Angel. “You could say that. But no, he didn’t seem to be very interested in…sightseeing, as it were.” He gave a knowing grin. “Perhaps he slithered off just to be a pest.”

“If he were trying to get lost on purpose, that just makes the situation even more difficult and dangerous!” The Angel was frowning again and—did he really not realize that Crowley was the person he was looking for?

This’ll be even more fun. “There, there.” He gave a friendly pat to the Angel’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll be all right. Say, I’ll even help find him for you.” He bit back a chuckle.

But ah… “Oh! You would?” How the Angel lit up like the morning sky at that.

I’d gift you an entire continent if you keep looking at me with those eyes. Crowley shook that thought from his head. “Of course.” He hummed, giving a sly smile. “For a price.”

The Angel blinked once. Then twice. “Oh.” Then, with certainty: “Name it. If it’s mine to give, it’s yours.”

Crowley leaned in closer, tilting his head to catch more of this Angel’s guarded face. Ah, not so soft and vulnerable now�� “Oh, Angel. You ought to be careful making deals with Demons.”

The Angel sent him a dry look. “I’m in no mood for your theatrics, err...” He gave a questioning glance.

Without even thinking: “J.” After one second of thinking: J?![

“Jay?” The Angel echoed.

Crowley shook his head; no going back on that one. “No, just J.”

“What does…”

“It’s just a J. Really,” he muttered tersely.

“Okay…J.” The Angel looked more unsure of pronouncing the Demon’s name than the terms of their agreement. “And yes. I’m sure. No price is too great for peace.”

Ah. One of those then. Crowley could understand the noble efforts and the valiant naivete that peace could be kept between their people all through the binding of blood-ties, but he fancied himself more of a realist. Still… “Very well.” He’ll lend a hand regardless for the sweet and foolish Angel before him. “Your name, then.” It’s not like he has a choice in the matter.

The Angel sputtered. “My—my what?”

Crowley eyed him with confusion and impatience. “Give me your name.”

“What—just because you were saddled with just a J doesn’t quite mean—”

“No, you twat.” He rolled his eyes at the offended gasp from his companion. “I meant I’d like to know your name. That’s all. Unless you’d prefer me to call you Angel all the time. Or Bird.”

The Angel at least had the manners to look embarrassed. “Aziraphale,” he stated, holding out his hand in introduction. “That’s my name.”

Lovely. “Eh. Too long. I’ll stick with Angel instead.” It’s still miles better than Just a J but even Crowley’s subconscious refuses to acknowledge that. Taking the Angel’s hand and leading him away to the grounds below, he said over his shoulder: “Well, let’s be off. He’s obviously not here, right?”

“R-right!”

It was surprisingly hard work, finding yourself.

Or rather, pretending to find the person that you already are while at the same time avoiding the hellhounds and whatever green Hellions of his Legion still haven’t learned their lesson about not-even-bothering-to-try-and-find-Prince-Crowley-when-he’s-escaped.

That, on top of navigating through a caste town with an Angel (also guilelessly looking for him) at his side.

There were one-too many close calls with a hellhound or two picking up his scent where he had to (regrettably) drag Aziraphale away from bakeries and patisseries towards the iron-sharp stench of the butcher’s just to throw them off. Some distance away, he could hear a soldier wrestling the dogs away from the meats, cursing colorfully with strained effort. It was a good thing his companion did little but eye him suspiciously whenever Crowley did so, but he shrugged it off whenever the Demon began (unwisely) interrogating the man possessing a meat-cleaver on the whereabouts of the Prince of Hell.

By the third hour of his escape, his disappearance was abuzz in all manner of conversation. So much so that it suddenly became quite easy to hide in plain sight. After all, they were expecting the Prince to hide amongst the shadows, fearful of daylight and capture, not be meandering off with a strange Angel he met by the Gardens and cross-examining people of his own location.

“Are you quite certain that the Prince wouldn’t be err… peckish at this hour?”

It’s barely noon Crowley thought, and no, he wouldn’t be. He wasn’t too fond of mealtime; not when a hot plate of food also meant the whole ordeal of sitting through Beelzebub’s barking orders or the rousing topics of current politics hovering like flies. “I don’t believe so—”

A shadow of disappointment flashed through Aziraphale’s face before a new spark of inspiration brightened it. “Ah, but!” He took Crowley by the arm, leading him to another direction. “You’re a newcomer after all— please, let me interest you in this quaint eatery and show you what delicacies our kingdom has to offer—”

Right…and it had nothing at all to do with the Angel’s whimpering stomach. Crowley chortled. “I thought you wanted to find your charge.” The moment he said that, Crowley regretted it as Aziraphale dropped his hand and the enthusiasm in his step dropped dead.

“Err…right.” He glanced up at his companion sheepishly. Fuck, Crowley mourned. “I mean you’re right, of course.” I made him sad.

“No, no, I, ah.” He glanced down, finding the Angel’s hand and pulling him along. “Let’s go in, shall we?” He dragged the other to a bustling building, a savory aroma wafting through the air. “Maybe we’ll find some clues as to where he’s been from the gossip.”

Aziraphale blossomed radiantly at that. “Quite right, dear!”

Crowley’s heart sputtered in his chest at the unexpected endearment. “L-lead on, Angel.”

He didn’t mean to spend the next two hours there. And in Aziraphale’s defense, they did a thorough sweep of the area and listened in on conversation for any hints to the whereabouts of the missing Prince, but that all dissolved into a fine pile of goo to be thrown in a bucket and kicked out to gutters as Crowley got them a table, Aziraphale placed an order for the both of them, and a plate of oysters were set before them. Crowley couldn’t help it if Aziraphale lit up like a sky-full of evening stars.

He looked positively besotted. “Oh, you must try them, J. I insist!”

And so Crowley did. He liked them well enough.

But not nearly as much as he liked watching the look of sheer completion on Aziraphale’s face. Silvery lashes fluttering close, the shape of his lips as he closed his mouth around the tasty morsels, the breathless sighs—

Crowley shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was ever-fortunate that years of casting a mask of indifference on his face during mealtimes prepared him for this.

Then: a plate of something sweet, decadent, and sugary was placed between them. “We mustn’t forget about dessert!” Aziraphale happily intoned.

Satan preserve us. Crowley watched on, pupils dilating ever-so-slightly as Aziraphale lapped up the cream.

It was sundown and Aziraphale was doomed.

NO—not just Aziraphale.

His country, their entire nation, the KINGDOMS OF HEAVEN AND HELL—

The two footmen in charge of the Prince in the first place actually had the gall to look bored. In just a few minutes, the Prince would need to be announced before his intended suitors and if the Prince doesn’t appear through those ridiculously ornate doors to the grand ballroom—

Political tensions would skyrocket to an all-time high. There would be distrust between the efforts of peace between the two nations. Uncertainty and suspicion would overrun the entire efforts to stop conflict and they’ll be back at each other’s throats all over again, ravaging war after fruitless war, sacrificing resources, land, citizens for the sake of the elite’s gain—

“Calm down, Angel,” J’s voice rattled off in his head. “It’ll work out in the end. Just. Breathe.”

Just breathe. Just. Breathe.

Breathing did bollocks. Where was that wine…

A sizeable crowd had gathered now, consisting of high-ranking commanders and officials: the Seraphs, Cherubs, even some Dominions. Their gazes briefly flitted past the Demons, snorting in amusement as their eyes flickered over to where Aziraphale stood by the threshold. The Principality tried not to squirm under their calculating stares.

He ought to have faith—that’s right. He ought to have faith that all will go according to the plan—well. Whatever plan She had in store.

Her Majesty the Queen may not have been completely clear in her instructions as she bequeathed him the responsibility of guiding Crowley, Prince of Hell, through their culture and kingdom in order to dutifully bind his life to that of the Divines—nevermind that it doesn’t make a tick of sense that Crowley needs to woo one of them in the first place if the goal is to simply establish peace by the sharing of bloodlines and all that — but he’s an Angel.

And Angels were made to obey even if the ineffable plan was quite…in-affable.

The doors opened and a Demon’s lazy drawl commenced. Aziraphale’s pulse quickened.

“May I present to you—”

Oh—

“His Royal Highness, son of King Lucifer of the Kingdom of Hell—”

—Fuck.

“Prince Anthony J Crowley.”

A beat of silence. Aziraphale felt the blood drain from his face.

But then: “Just Crowley is fine.”

If it was possible to choke on absolutely nothing, Aziraphale would have been granted a very strange and rather rude epitaph if he happened to croak at this very moment. Well, one could suppose he did choke on the incredulity of the scene before him:

Of J sauntering through the doors with regal indifference, too-cool-to-be-bothered demeanor in his dark royal garb, nonchalant and nonplussed as if he didn’t just give Aziraphale a heart attack at the lightning-strike realization that he had just spent the entire afternoon looking for the damned Prince—only for said Prince to lead him around town square on a wild goose chase.

Aziraphale couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe. He was humiliated—for sure—but he hadn’t planned on doing anything about it within the vicinity of the eyes of Heaven’s elites—

That was, until J—Prince Crowley—caught his gaze and sent him a smarmy grin.

Aziraphale was rightfully pissed. And Crowley found it adorable.

He had planned to apologize, he really did! He not only thoroughly enjoyed the company of his Guide, but it seemed that Aziraphale—unlike most of the dead-eyed stares within the room—actually gave a shit. About peace—about him! And that wasn’t something Crowley was about to let go. He decided it would be best to let the Angel simmer down a little and then confront him when most of the heat had dissipated with some fine wine and dancing—

But alas. That flustered face was too sweet a temptation to ignore. So after making his proper appearance to the Archangels (bow, proclaim your title, Pleased to make your acquaintance, I look forward to working together in the name of peace between our two kingdoms, yaddayaddayadda) and there he goes back again to the red-faced, scowling little Bird.

And had Aziraphale not been blustering with ill-contained frustration at him, he might have even noticed the eyes on them as Crowley approached. The Prince gave a sweeping bow—“To a Principality?” someone murmured among the masses— and took Aziraphale’s hand with all the blithe charm he could muster. “Pleased to formally make your acquaintance.”

All fallen on deaf ears and eyes blinded by rage. “YOU!” Aziraphale hissed out.

If it wouldn’t make tensions between them even worse, Crowley would have thrown his head back in a laugh. Instead, he settled for pleased-as-punch smile that the Angel, had he inhaled more liquid courage into his system, might have put description to reality. “Let’s walk and talk, shall we?”

And so, the gallant prince goes, sweeping his Guide off his feet into a dance as the celebration began and a swell of music drifted through the air.

But alas, Aziraphale doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s dancing with the Prince right now—he was merely content to hissing in his ear. “J!”

“Or dance, as it stands, err, sways,” Crowley corrected as he took the lead. “And like I said, you can call me Crowley, Angel.” Forward. “And see? I told you everything would be all right!” Side.

Closed. “I SPENT HOURS LOOKING FOR YOU! And—you were the Prince all along?!”

A pull, back and forth. “Guilty,” Crowley replied, though his tone implied he was anything but. The Angel was pouting again. “Oh don’t look so cross at me. We had a good time, right?”

Back. Aziraphale sputtered. “I SAW MY LIFE FLASH BEFORE MY EYES WHEN THEY ANNOUNCED YOU!” Side.

Closed. Crowley huffed, clearly and infuriatingly amused. “Did that include the time you met a mysterious, handsome fellow who, out of the goodness of his heart, decided to aid you in looking for your charge today?”

Back. “No,” He seethed tartly. “It included the time I met an irritation of a Royal who decided to play me for a sucker.”

Forward. “Tsk, don’t think of it like that. Think of it as—getting to know each other,” Crowley offered. Aziraphale eyed him darkly. Side. “Without the pomp and regality of it all,” he continued. “After all, I certainly enjoyed my time with you.” Closed.

Back. “Hmph.” But Crowley could already see the steam running out. The tense and terse replies relaxed to a tranquil banter. “Well—It appears that I’ll need to keep closer eye on you. In case you decide to cause anyone else grief.” There was still a glower in those stormy eyes, but there was also a hint of a resenting smile on those wine-pinked lips.

Forward. Crowley gave him a wicked grin. “Oh, Angel. You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll be sure to save all my mischief just for you—”

Side. “You—!”

Closed. “—if it means we get to have more days like today.”

And he’ll be sure to make it up to him later. It wouldn’t do not to be in good graces with his Guide after all—it certainly would make his stay far less fun. And from their outing that day, it became very apparent that his Guide has a penchant for good food and wine…

The first song ended with a bustle of cheer from the crowd and Aziraphale froze, the realization hitting him square in the face that he just spent the first dance with the Prince. It sent Aziraphale reeling, thoughts coming to a halt between the immovable object of two choices keeping him frozen in place: to crawl away from the crowd and into his bed for a solid week or to walk away with some semblance of dignity far, far away from the Prince.

But alas; it appeared that Crowley just so happened to be an unstoppable force to pull him away from his (safer) two options. “You’re not bad!” Crowley laughed, taking his hand again as the music started up and before any of the Birds could swoop down and interrupt their fun.

He gave a fanciful twirl to the startled Angel, holding him tight to make sure the other didn’t stumble in his steps. The song possessed a faster tempo this time; he hoped the Angel could keep up.

Given enough time and patience to allow the Angel to concede that This is my life now, he, in fact, could.

--------------------------------------------

Meet-cute? Check.

A prince in disguise? Check.

Aziraphale dancing something other than the gavotte—wait, what? Also check.

More to come, I think.

Thank you for reading!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #repost from ao3 #top crowley #bottom aziraphale #fantasy AU

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phpmatrimonialscriptt · 2 years ago

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i-netsolution2 · 3 years ago

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cynthiajayusa · 7 years ago

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Tony Adams: The Marrying Man

If you want someone who “looks the part” to do the honors at your upcoming nuptials, Tony Adams is your man. With his ascetic bearing, fine features, and raven brows — all offset by a glorious shock of white hair — Adams looks like a parish priest straight out of central casting.

Which. In fact. He was. Way back in the ’80s.

Unable to reconcile his gay identity or moral values with a relentlessly (and hypocritically) homophobic Vatican, Adams eventually left the Church. But he never lost his call to ministry, which is why he gladly returned to the nuptial business almost as soon as marriage equality became a reality in these United States.

Since then, Adams has joined scores of LGBT couples in matrimony (holy and… less so), a service the snowbird performs both in South Florida and New York City. We sat down with this unconventional man of the cloth to get the skinny on life as a same-sex marriage officiant: the outfits, the vows, the horror stories.

How long have you been officiating?

As a Catholic priest, I officiated at weddings for many years until I left active ministry in 1982. I wanted to help LGBT couples who were denied marriage by their anti-gay Catholic Church, so just a few days after marriage equality became law in New York — July 24, 2011— I married two gay couples in Central Park in front of a huge crowd of cheering friends and strangers. A beautiful day. No dry eyes.

What kind of accreditation do you have? What did you have to do to get it?

I am a minister of the Universal Life Church, which is one of a handful of churches recognized by New York City for the purpose of becoming a licensed officiant. The application process is easy, all spelled out on the [New York] City Clerk’s website. Oddly, singing ability is not required. Most of my weddings have no religious overtones, but if asked, I’ll honor the couple’s traditions — Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or otherwise.

Is your accreditation limited to a particular state or states?

Yes, requirements vary from state to state. There are some startling differences between New York and Florida, for instance. In New York City, there’s a specific licensing process. In Florida, your officiant needs only to be an ordained clergyman of any kind — and there’s no proof required!

Also, in NYC, the officiant must return the completed license to the City Clerk’s office within a specific number of days. Here in Florida, the officiant can return it whenever he or she feels like it! Of course, if it doesn’t get returned, and no wedding certificate is issued, a justifiably irate couple will probably hunt down their negligent officiant with more force than any Florida sheriff.

How many couples have you married?

I’ve lost count.

Lesbians as well as gay men?

Yes, both.

Any opposite-sex couples?

I would not discriminate against an opposite-sex couple.

How do you prepare for a wedding? How much do you work with the couple?

Working with the couple is key. I have to get a sense of what they envision, and I have to honor their wishes 100 percent. Sure, I’ll give them advice, but it’s their day: Casual? Formal? Relatives? Rings? Vows? Pets? Children? Music? God? No God?

A good officiant isn’t just a plug-in. He orchestrates the ceremony, making everyone comfortable so that they can celebrate what they feel in their hearts for the couple. Humor among strangers is tricky; a good officiant uses it sparingly but will pour out good will by the bucket.

Do you have a set script? Or does it vary from service to service?

Never a set script, but there is one thing I always do when I know that there are straight relatives and friends in attendance. I start the wedding by thanking them for rising above any personal prejudices or religious beliefs they may have. I thank them for the courage of their presence honoring and supporting two people in love.

I address my words to the oldest people present because they have grown up in a time when LGBT people were closeted, invisible, and condemned. The older ones are also more likely to know the truth about marriage and how it works. I honor their presence. I always get a little choked up when I thank them and see them blink back tears, but hey, if you can’t make ’em cry, it’s not a wedding, right?

What do you wear?

I take my cue from the couple. If they want me in black, I’m there. If they want me in flip-flops, I’m there. I recently did a wedding on St. Patrick’s Day that meant shopping for a green shirt. I once attended a wedding in Key West where everyone was naked except for leather masks and harnesses. The exchange of rings was eye-popping! I’m glad they didn’t ask me to officiate, but if they had, I’d have worn latex.

Do you ever help the couple write their vows?

Yes. Often the couple is not sure what they want to say, so it’s helpful for me to submit a list of words and phrases. They are never shy about then telling me what to avoid. For instance, an old-fashioned phrase like, “Will you be obedient to your spouse forsaking all others?” can sometimes elicit snorts and eye-rolls. The majority of the couples I’ve married have specified that there be no mention of god or religion. I also never presume that their vows will include sexual exclusivity.

Do you recall any particularly memorable vows?

I have had to learn some phrases in Hebrew, Ukranian, Spanish, Italian and Polish — just enough to honor the heritage of the couples. Sometimes, I’m not quite sure what I may have actually said! I enjoy delivering the final blessing in Latin if the crowd is Roman Catholic but only if the couple asks for that. It’s part of what sets me apart from other officiants.

Where have you performed marriages?

All over Manhattan and Brooklyn, including several spots in Central Park. In Fort Lauderdale, I’ve officiated on the beach, on yachts, and on a bridge over a pool at a private residence.

What’s the most memorable ceremony you’ve performed?

I cherish the memory of each one, none more than the other. I’m friends with almost all the couples I have married, so I would never rate or rank those ceremonies. Each one was beautiful.

Do couples usually invite you to attend the reception?

Yes. I love socializing with folks in the context of a wedding. Great fun!

Have you witnessed any wedding mishaps? Do tell.

The guests had arrived and were milling about in a restaurant in Greenwich Village a half hour before we were to start the ceremony. The couple had a cute little dog that would be the ring bearer. The rings were tied to his diamond collar with a festive ribbon. When I tried to take a picture of the dog that had been scampering through the crowd, I saw that he had chewed through the ribbon and that the rings were lost somewhere on the floor of the restaurant. Everyone was enlisted in the search and they were located. What do performers say about working with dogs and children?

In Central Park I married two lesbian couples by the Bethesda Fountain. Pouring rain meant we had to go under the Bethesda Terrace, but a Halloween haunted house had been set up there and we were kept out. One of the lesbians got spooked by the sounds of devilish recorded screams from within the haunted house, and she refused to go on with the ceremony, saying it would be cursed. She calmed down, umbrellas were located, and everything ended well as the rain turned into a gorgeous snowfall.

What made you decide you wanted to officiate weddings?

To make up for having been a priest in the anti-gay Catholic Church. It’s my way of making amends.

While you were a priest, did you marry any couples?

Maaaaany.

I’ve heard you charge no fee for officiating. Is that true?

I refuse to accept even a penny. This is another way I make amends for having been a priest in a Catholic Church that makes money via the distribution of its sacraments. When the couple asks about a fee, I suggest they make a donation to The SMART Ride via my rider page. [The annual two-day benefit bicycle ride from Miami to Key West raises funds for groups providing HIV/AIDS service in South Florida.] They have all been amazingly generous.

In your experience, what makes a wedding ceremony memorable or moving?

In a world in which half of all marriages fail, and given that many in attendance have had failed marriages, if I can make people feel hopeful again, and able to set aside the past or their fears for the future, and if I can make them believe that love can last forever, I’ll have done my job — and I can feel it in the air.

What should a couple look for in an officiant?

Efficiency! A good officiant never waits to the last minute when working with a couple. A good officiant is never late or unprepared for glitches! Beyond that, I think it’s part instinct, part compassion and part wisdom. I’ve lived with the same man for 35 years, married to him for nine. I’ve been around, and I got stuff to say about it!

Some couples will have a friend get accredited to officiate at their wedding. Good idea?

Maybe, but will that friend know how to set the tone and pace and roll with glitches in the ceremony? I think it is better to ask your closest friends or relatives to read, recite, or sing something, as long as they keep it brief!

Do any of the couples you’ve married stay in touch with you?

I am in touch with all of them, even if it’s just on Facebook. I am happy to report that they are all still together. “Who’s your daddy?” should be my officiant motto!

Tony Adams, a minister of the Universal Life Church, can perform weddings in Florida and New York City. Contact him at [email protected] or via his wedding page on Facebook: facebook.com/Tony-Adams-1532614977002074.

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/05/03/tony-adams-the-marrying-man/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2018/05/tony-adams-marrying-man.html

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demitgibbs · 7 years ago

Text

Tony Adams: The Marrying Man

Which. In fact. He was. Way back in the ’80s.

How long have you been officiating?

What kind of accreditation do you have? What did you have to do to get it?

Is your accreditation limited to a particular state or states?

How many couples have you married?

I’ve lost count.

Lesbians as well as gay men?

Yes, both.

Any opposite-sex couples?

I would not discriminate against an opposite-sex couple.

How do you prepare for a wedding? How much do you work with the couple?

Do you have a set script? Or does it vary from service to service?

What do you wear?

Do you ever help the couple write their vows?

Do you recall any particularly memorable vows?

Where have you performed marriages?

All over Manhattan and Brooklyn, including several spots in Central Park. In Fort Lauderdale, I’ve officiated on the beach, on yachts, and on a bridge over a pool at a private residence.

What’s the most memorable ceremony you’ve performed?

I cherish the memory of each one, none more than the other. I’m friends with almost all the couples I have married, so I would never rate or rank those ceremonies. Each one was beautiful.

Do couples usually invite you to attend the reception?

Yes. I love socializing with folks in the context of a wedding. Great fun!

Have you witnessed any wedding mishaps? Do tell.

What made you decide you wanted to officiate weddings?

To make up for having been a priest in the anti-gay Catholic Church. It’s my way of making amends.

While you were a priest, did you marry any couples?

Maaaaany.

I’ve heard you charge no fee for officiating. Is that true?

In your experience, what makes a wedding ceremony memorable or moving?

What should a couple look for in an officiant?

Some couples will have a friend get accredited to officiate at their wedding. Good idea?

Do any of the couples you’ve married stay in touch with you?

I am in touch with all of them, even if it’s just on Facebook. I am happy to report that they are all still together. “Who’s your daddy?” should be my officiant motto!

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/05/03/tony-adams-the-marrying-man/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/173546183575

0 notes

hotspotsmagazine · 7 years ago

Text

Tony Adams: The Marrying Man

Which. In fact. He was. Way back in the ’80s.

How long have you been officiating?

What kind of accreditation do you have? What did you have to do to get it?

Is your accreditation limited to a particular state or states?

How many couples have you married?

I’ve lost count.

Lesbians as well as gay men?

Yes, both.

Any opposite-sex couples?

I would not discriminate against an opposite-sex couple.

How do you prepare for a wedding? How much do you work with the couple?

Do you have a set script? Or does it vary from service to service?

What do you wear?

Do you ever help the couple write their vows?

Do you recall any particularly memorable vows?

Where have you performed marriages?

All over Manhattan and Brooklyn, including several spots in Central Park. In Fort Lauderdale, I’ve officiated on the beach, on yachts, and on a bridge over a pool at a private residence.

What’s the most memorable ceremony you’ve performed?

I cherish the memory of each one, none more than the other. I’m friends with almost all the couples I have married, so I would never rate or rank those ceremonies. Each one was beautiful.

Do couples usually invite you to attend the reception?

Yes. I love socializing with folks in the context of a wedding. Great fun!

Have you witnessed any wedding mishaps? Do tell.

What made you decide you wanted to officiate weddings?

To make up for having been a priest in the anti-gay Catholic Church. It’s my way of making amends.

While you were a priest, did you marry any couples?

Maaaaany.

I’ve heard you charge no fee for officiating. Is that true?

In your experience, what makes a wedding ceremony memorable or moving?

What should a couple look for in an officiant?

Some couples will have a friend get accredited to officiate at their wedding. Good idea?

Do any of the couples you’ve married stay in touch with you?

I am in touch with all of them, even if it’s just on Facebook. I am happy to report that they are all still together. “Who’s your daddy?” should be my officiant motto!

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/05/03/tony-adams-the-marrying-man/

0 notes