- In General -
This is a series – with occasional articles - about unusual experiences I’ve had in my rabbinate. I’m calling it “My Strangest…” for while some aren’t really strange, some are, and I don’t want to drive myself crazy trying to think of the best adjective. So, I’ll let you in on the “strangest…” wedding, funeral, counseling, community events, and other moments in the life of your rabbi.
This time, however, I’ll just let you in on some of the “almost” strangest; they’re different, shall we say, and they don’t even cover them all. I’ll leave the “THE” to other columns.
I’ve had a few unusual funerals. I was called to officiate for a physician I did not know at all. He had no family, so I arranged to speak to his friends. His best friend said he would offer the eulogy inasmuch as I did not know Dr. Schleplowitz. Great! But as I said to him and others when I didn’t know the deceased, “Tell me a little about him.” Good thing I asked! When he was about to begin the eulogy, he broke down and couldn’t say a word. “A little about him” turned into the eulogy for Dr. Schleplowitz.
Then there was the funeral I conducted for a young man who had spent years in the State hospital for the chronically ill. There were two people in the funeral chapel, the deceased and I. I called in the staff of the funeral home, not that there’d be a minyan inasmuch as it wasn’t the Jewish funeral home, but rather to give the deceased a bit of dignity in death…and so I wouldn’t be so furious. You see, the parents lived in Florida and weren’t at all interested in spending the money to attend their child’s funeral. They hardly gave me any information, and they certainly showed no emotion. I didn’t need them. I based my eulogy not on this young man, his life and achievements – because his twenty or so years were marked with illness and hospitalizations – but on parent-child relations, kindness and other things that were so opposite what he had experienced. I felt a little better.
While studying towards my Pastoral Counseling certification and then my Master of Social Work, I had to do “practice” counseling. I remember the “Ken and Barbie” couple who came to see me via the Lutheran Community Services agency with whom I worked. Honest to God, they were not only the most beautiful people I’ve ever met (both the wife and husband were drop-dead gorgeous), but the most beautiful couple I’ve ever met….sweet, kind, open, you name it. They sought counseling because they wanted to divorce!! To shorten a long story, they never, ever, gave me one tiny inclination of a problem and I told them, “You’re wasting your money coming here. There’s nothing you’re giving me to discuss. Everything seems fine. Why in God’s name do you want to divorce, and if you can’t come up with anything, I’m not going to waste our mutual time. Unless you’re lying to me you could stay married for a hundred years.” Well, they agreed that they couldn’t think of anything. They left never to come back. If you think I’ve been plotzing to find out what happened, you’re right.
Weddings? Well, the strangest is one I’ll write about at another time, but there have been some doozies that could have fit under that category. I’m pretty good at judging the potential of a relationship based on body language as we meet for pre-marital counseling. There was the one – a congregant’s daughter – who came in with her fiancé. When a couple sits near each other but not on each other; when they look at me, not stare into each other’s eyes; when they speak coherently, not like two love-starved idiots, there’s a good chance of success. Not only did they…well, we won’t get into that…but at the ceremony the bride’s mother said, and I quote, “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Heather (not her real name), get your hands off each other’s bodies!” …and right into the live microphone! Not only didn’t that one last, but her other two didn’t either. And yet I officiated at the bride’s daughter’s wedding and…what a difference…bride and groom were appropriate, and I know that marriage will last (but, hey, remember, I’m NOT a prophet). I’ll also tell you another time about strange/weird/bizarre stuff happening under the chuppah.
(Speaking of marriages, the rabbi said, “Marriage is like a violin. When the beautiful music is over the strings are still attached”)