Poke Out My Eyes with a Fork

Saturday I was asked to drive an older friend to her grandson’s wedding in Pittsburgh. I did so several years ago for another of her grandson’s wedding. It was no big deal and the food was great, so I accepted. But there was a big difference. This grandson’s wife-to-be was Russian Orthodox not Roman Catholic. I was in for a big surprise. The ceremony was held in the bride’s church and being in Pittsburgh it was on a steep hill. My friend had difficulty going up hills and steps. Parking was virtually non-existent, so I parked in priest’s rectory driveway. He wasn’t going anywhere anyway.

The inside of the church was decorated with gold gilding covering the pillars and framing the iconic figures of the saints, Mary, and Jesus. Stained glass windows lined the sanctuary. Gold-clad grape clusters in bas-relief were scattered across the altar. A small antechamber housed a golden star flickering in the light from oil lamps and candles.

There was no music. The bridal party entered. The bride’s attendants wore black. The only sound was the rustling of clothing and the whining of one flower girl. The priest in an ornate silver robe began chanting. He extolled the virility of biblical men and the virtue and fertility of biblical women, seeming to spare no name. He wished the same for the couple. The repetition of the word “mercy” peppered the entire ceremony to the point I thought of the biblical passage in Matthew, “But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.” This priest must have liked much speaking. The cantor joined and he was MUCH off key. When the “You may kiss the bride” was announced, the audience clapped. The priest seemed upset with the clapping and retreated into the antechamber, closing grape-cluster saloon doors. There were slender dowel rods with white ribbons and jingle bells that should have been used.

The reception theme was a masquerade party with a photographer and props to in one corner for those who forgot masks. When my friend invited me, she asked “Do you have a mask.” I thought at first she meant a face mask, then she explained why. The food was plentiful and edible, but not the greatest. I was chastised for trying to snatch a few cookies when the bride’s mother said it wasn’t time yet. The drive home was uneventful, but I was glad to be home in my quiet house. So if I hear the words wedding and Russian Orthodox together, PLEASE poke out my eyes and break my legs.