Date: Mon, 21 Aug 1995 11:58:48 -0500 From: mohr richard d Marriages without Wedding Bells by Richard D. Mohr (February 1995) Love and marriage may go together like a horse and carriage, but weddings and marriages do not. We met -- Bob and I -- one May afternoon in 1978. We were cruising one of the continent's great sexual playgrounds -- the ravines that make up Toronto's David Balfour Park. Yes, we exchanged bodily fluids before names. But names exchanged, we went to my place -- and had more sex. Sex lead to dating. And before you knew it, nigh on to seventeen years of life and love have logged for our journeyings together. Along the way, we have accumulated the standard debris of daily domestic life in America -- sanitary district tax bills, car insurance payments, property tax evaluation reassessment challenges, a mortgage (now burnt), sets of dishes, toasters, a post hole digger, left over gallons of house paint, stuff like that. In the main, our life together is ordinary, not operatic. Perhaps sedimentation alone is the explanation and perhaps I'm simply deluded, but our love feels ever more deep, robust, substantial -- the sort of thing that might lead one to believe in permanent non-material objects, traces of the divine, whatever. In any case, we consider ourselves married. But it has never crossed our minds to have a wedding, a marital _ceremony_, or what the law calls a solemnization. To put things somewhat poetically, marriage is intimacy given substance in the medium of everyday life, the day-to-day; marriage is the fused intersection of love's sanctity and necessity's demand. In consequence, though, one can be married without being wed. A wedding is not needed to call a marriage into being. Indeed, until recently, by far the most usual form of marriage in Western Civilization was common law marriage -- in which there is no wedding ceremony, either religious or civil, nor even a registering of the relationship with the government. Common law marriage continues to be legally recognized in one- quarter of the states and has much to recommend it. In such marriages, the sacred valuing of love grows from within the couple's relation and realizes itself over time through little sacrifices in day-to-day existence. The values, loyalties, and intimacies contained in the relation are products of the relation itself, not of social custom, expectation, or demand -- they are truly the couple's own. In this way, intimacy takes on weight and shine, the ordinary becomes the vehicle of the extraordinary, and the development of the marital relation becomes a mirror reflecting eternity. In a common law arrangement, the marriage is at some point culturally and legally acknowledged in retrospect as having existed _all along_. Remember that as a matter of law, the standard requirement of living together seven years is evidentiary and not constitutive of the relation as a marriage; so, for example, a child born in the third year of a common law marriage is legitimate from the moment of its birth, and need not wait four years as mom and dad log seven years together. The marriage was there in substance all along. We know, though, from gay experience that many couples want a wedding even if it's not needed to jump-start their marriage. If you read the burgeoning literature of gay weddings or simply ask gay couples why they want marriage ceremonies as opposed just to marriages, you get two standard responses. One is that the publicity of the event is key -- that the making of their love public is what is important to the couple about the event. But, it should also be remembered that publicity is a requirement of common law marriage. The members of the couple must "hold themselves forth" as married in order to be considered married at law; if they live together in some other way, say, in secret or leaving uncorrected a social belief that they are siblings, then they are never married no matter how many years they live together. So publicity won't do as a rationale to distinguish solemnized from non-solemnized marriages. The other explanation has to do with commitment; indeed frequently gay couples call their solemnizations "commitment ceremonies." But a promise made in private is as morally binding as one made in public. What distinguishes these promises is their enforcement mechanism. A public promise invokes the threat of shame as the chief means of its governance. But at our stage of civilization, such appeal to shame is both unseemly and primitive _even_ for those couples who incorporate the pledge of "forsaking all others" into their ceremonies. Moreover, any resort to social enforcement here is incompatible with marriage understood as the _development_ of intimacy through the medium of day-to-day living. For this understanding of marriage calls for choice and consent to be _continuously_ given, not given once and for all. So what's left? The gods. If marriage is as I claim, then marriage is worthy of blessing and sanctification, if anything is. And many gays call their wedding ceremonies "holy unions." But care needs to be taken that religion's baleful elements, of which gays now chiefly bear the brunt, are not unconsciously incorporated and ritualized in such ceremonies. Hippies, you see, were right about at least one thing. They knew that ceremonies are tricky, that ceremonies almost automatically invoke and reconsecrate social norms rather than the value of individuals and their intimacies. As a check against this subtle tide, hippie marital rites typically included texts of the couple's own fashioning and a time for friends to give voice to their distinctive ties to the couple and to bestow individualized blessings. Some of this reform has been taken up by yuppies, New Agers, gay folk, and progressive denominations. With such checks in place, a ceremony invoking the gods can legitimately serve not as what creates a marriage but as a sort of a bon voyage for the marital couple where the hopes expressed are not merely for clear skies and smooth sailing but for psychic or spiritual adventure. To date at least, Bob and I have not felt a need for gods. And we certainly don't need another toaster. So our marriage courses on unwed -- shimmering, if plain, constant, and nice. -30-