Dear Jimmy,
Well, it’s Sunday afternoon and I am bone-tired and the cause of my weariness was the big doin’s at our little Bluebell Baptist on Saturday.
You might remember Boney and Vera Mae Taylor who have been pillars of our fellowship for decades. Well, Saturday would have been their 50th weddin’ anniversary, except one of their granddaughters stunned the family by announcin’ that Boney and Vera Mae weren’t really married. Seems she was puttin’ together a display for the big anniversary they were plannin’ when she uncovered this bit of trivia at the court house. Well, come to find out, apparently old brother Stout who was our preacher way back then never got around to sendin’ in some sort of paperwork, and Boney’s and Vera Mae’s weddin’ never got recorded and was not rightly speakin’, legal.
Well, right away Boney saw the humor in the situation, but for Vera Mae, who you might know is nothin’ if not prim and proper, the thought of livin’ in sin for the past 50 years was about more than she could get ahold of. She would hardly venture out for fear of what townsfolk might be sayin’ about her. Well, brother Bobby told her that they sure enough got hitched in God’s eyes even if the state didn’t get the word back then. But Vera Mae is one of those women who tends to see things all one way or the other, and she insisted that Boney sleep at one of their kids’ houses till they could sort it all out.
That’s why they decided to get married — again — on the same day they got married in the first place only 50 years later. Boney said havin’ to remember a new anniversary date would confuse him too much. Plus, he says he and Vera Mae have never done things like ordinary folks so why shouldn’t they celebrate their golden anniversary by gettin’ hitched?
Well, our little church was packed to standin’ room only with a good number bein’ descendants of the bride and groom. We had so many chairs in the aisle we feared that Vera Mae Taylor might not have room to squeeze through and get to the altar. Let’s just say that her weddin’ dress required a few more yards of fabric this time than when she first made the trip.
Turns out all that plannin’ nearly came to naught ‘cause Vera Mae and Boney called the whole thing off on the way to church. I reckon that’s why that tradition of not lettin’ the bride and groom see each other on the day of the weddin’ got started.
I never got the straight of what caused the ruckus, but one said something and the other took offense and back and forth it went until Vera Mae said, “Fine, let’s just call the whole thing off!” And when they got to the church, that’s just what they did!
Well, poor Brother Bobby, our young preacher, went to work tryin’ to introduce some kind of reason to the couple as he led them to his study for a session that gave new definition to crisis counselin’. Meanwhile, because of the over-crowded situation, guests were gettin’ hot and restless, and finally the WMU ladies dismissed everybody to the reception in the fellowship hall to keep tempers from boilin’ over. Well, they polished off the nuts and mints and finger food in a hurry and just as they were gettin’ ready to cut the cake we got word that the bride and groom had reconciled.
We found out later that what finally tipped the scale was the thought of all those descendants. Vera Mae finally allowed as she and Boney had an obligation to their offspring to make them retroactively legitimate. Well, from that point on things proceeded according to plan, but Boney was right. He and Vera Mae don’t do things like most folks.
I’ve been sittin’ here thinkin’ about how shook up Vera Mae was at the thought of her and Boney livin’ together all those years and havin’ all those kids and not bein’ what you might call legal. It strikes me that sometimes it’s easier to please God than to please man. Seems to me that human bein’s have a knack of makin’ things more complicated than they need to be. I reckon that’s true in churches, too. One town just down the holler from us has all but died out and the church, too, is about gone. They just have about a dozen or so on Sunday mornin’, but their bylaws list 27 standin’ committees. So, dutifully, the nominatin’ committee keeps askin’ those 12 people until they finally get the committees filled and elected. Of course, most of them never meet, but the important thing is they got them elected.
I guess it’s always easier to see what other folks do that makes no sense than to see it in yourself. Still, I have to wonder what we, at our little Bluebell Baptist, are doing that would cause a reasonable person to wonder why in tarnation we would do that. I suspect we may keep the good Lord wonderin’ that same thing.
Well, I’ve kept you long enough and my droopin’ eyelids are demandin’ a nap. Come see us when you can.
With much love,
Aunt Ida
Jim White ([email protected]) is executive editor of the Religious Herald.