He was the principal of the Christian school which met at the church. His dad was the Senior Pastor. He had four years of teacher training and all the obligatory certifications, internships, and education needed. He added a Masters Degree in Theology and another Masters in Educational Administration. He was fully qualified to do the job he was doing.
During the five years he had been principal, his dad’s church had grown from 200 members to almost 1500. In that medium-sized town, the church dwarfed all the others. The main draw for newcomers was the Christian school.
This final premarital counseling session was a warning about disaster looming. This is the first wedding I had ever officiated or counseled someone about, and ten minutes into our time together, the bride-to-be looked at me and said, “I don’t think we should get married. This is a mistake.”
Up until that evening, they had both expressed positive feelings about getting married. Neither had voiced any real concerns about their relationship. In this session however, she pointed out a half dozen things she didn’t like about her fiance. Most of them were minor, especially the details of his personal hygiene.
At one point we heard a siren. It was the tornado warning. We trundled down to the shelter and waited until the all-clear. When we got back to the apartment, I wondered aloud if this warning was some kind of a sign. They both smiled. I went on to convince them they just had cold feet. Both of them finally agreed that despite their misgivings they still wanted to get married.
Two weeks later, we had a beautiful and uplifting ceremony. Immediately after the reception, they left on their honeymoon for two weeks. Since this was my first wedding as officiant, I wanted to know how they were doing as soon as they got back. I called the bride and casually asked how the trip went from her perspective.
“We’re getting an annulment Pastor Mike. So, I guess you could say it wasn’t a great trip.”
I could not convince her to stay married. Neither could the groom or her mother.
About a month after she applied and received the annulment, we sat down again and she went into more detail about her reasons. Surprisingly, neither her decision to get married nor her decision to annul the marriage was made hastily. The man she had intended marrying was a good man. He lived a moral and ethical life and she really liked him.
But there were several things about him she could not abide. Each day of the honeymoon, she asked herself one question repeatedly: “Could I live with this for 50 years?” Because she answered “no” too many times, she decided not to waste his time or hers on a marriage which would not work.
I asked her to list what she found objectionable about him. They were all variations of the same three categories: approach to money, their sex life, his personal hygiene. She noticed all these things before they got married (Note: don’t judge. They wanted to know if they were sexually compatible before marriage, despite the Church’s strictures against it. That was their choice). These grievances were the basis of her telling me at the premarital session she didn’t want to get married. She apologized for heeding me and going through with it even with her doubts.
At the time, I was only recently married myself, and I didn’t know her decision may have been based upon a very faulty premise. She believed these incompatibilities were insurmountable and would bother her all their married life. I wish I could have that proverbial Time Machine and go back to give her the wisdom I have garnered through time and experience. Here’s what I would tell her:
Almost every couple on earth is incompatible. It takes several years to clear a lot of that up. Many couples are very successful at doing that; some are not.
I have about ten articles rumbling in my belly these days and I would love to get them all done. But a long process of extraordinary length, peppered with the occasional act of God, has made it difficult to write what I want to write.
Many of you are new to this blog and are here to read about victimization, egalitarianism, pacifism, or marriage success. And we will get back to all of those subjects shortly. But, because you’re new, I want to give you some perspective on my recent journey.
After starting a church in Sacramento in 1999 and pastoring it for 16 years, I resigned in 2015. I devoted myself to writing, teaching, and counseling. At the time, I anticipated moving to Oregon to teach in a college there. But I learned some things about the college’s viewpoints on church, counseling, and certain elements in our culture which I could not truck with. I stopped pursuing that teaching position.
We had already sold our house and moved into a rental. I wasn’t sure what I would do, so I kept doing what I was doing. Then, a church in Hayward, CA lost their pastor to cancer. They asked me to help them work through that.
That’s when the whirlwind started.
My counseling load exploded
The rental house sold
Our daughter moved home after finishing grad school
We found the perfect house. Problem: It wasn’t built yet.
Moved into an apartment while the house was being built.
Began working half the week in Sacramento, half the week in the Bay Area (70 miles apart).
Speaking requests increased.
Victim advocacy requests started to pour in.
Finally, two weeks ago, our house was completed and we began to move in. 40 years of marital stuff came from the apartment, the storage unit, and our friends’ garages.
We are now in and setting up house.
I am starting to write again with a renewed vigor.
The antics of pastoral abusers like Bill Hybels, Ravi Zacharias, Andy Savage, and several others are pissing me off.