A month after I was ordained as a rabbi, I found myself walking into a country club, signature black leather briefcase in hand, ready to officiate at my first Jewish wedding. Moments later, I looked down at the first California Marriage License I would sign as a solo officiant. My hand shook as I tried to make sense of the official document before me. I took a deep breath and brought to mind the calming words of Rabbi Cohen: Whatever you do, just don’t mess up the marriage license!
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1 comment:
The story of the first wedding at which you officiated reminded me of the tale that Rabbi Morton Fierman related to me sometime in either 1962 or 1963. It, too, was about his first wedding. He was very nervous, but he tried not to show it. At the point in the ceremony where the kiddush was recited over the cup of wine, instead of offering the cup to the bride and groom, he drank the wine.
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