Rumor has it that legal training, and the actual practice of law, provides a foundation for many other endeavors. Lawyers run businesses, become politicians, or even run sports leagues or baseball teams. Consider former NFL Commissioner Paul Tagliabue, or Field Marshall Tony LaRussa. I’m not sure how well Tony’s skills as a legal advocate worked for him when it came to arguing his cases before the home plate umpire, but he probably knew that if he went too far, his contempt wasn’t going to get him thrown in jail, as might have happened if he kicked dirt on a Federal Judge.
In fact, when my stepson Patrick was considering whether or not to go to law school, the tried and true argument my wife Cheryl and I gave him was that even if he decided not to practice law, the training would be a good foundation. That same argument failed miserably with my daughters.
As Patrick was closing out his three-year law school term, he and his intended, Laura, asked me if I would marry them. “Am I allowed to do that?” I wondered to myself. Of course, I had attended weddings performed by judges, but could a “regular” lawyer perform a wedding ceremony? Well, no problem; Cheryl simply got on the Internet, and in the time it took her to type my credit card number, I was a credentialed minister. The certificate, a plastic ID card, and a badge identifying me as a member of the clergy arrived in a matter of days. Leaving the badge on my dashboard may help the next time I park next to a fire hydrant.
The card confirms my ordination by the Universal Life Church Monastery. It is signed by Chaplain V.R. Martin. I’m not sure if that means I’m a chaplain, too, but to show the proper respect, I have directed my friends to refer to me as the Right Reverend Mark. My particular ministry finds me in good company. Other members of my religious movement include Sharon Stone, Johnny Carson, Goldie Hawn, Conan O’Brian, and, most impressive of all, Sir Ian McKellen. Sir Ian is Gandalf in “The Lord of the Rings Trilogy,” and I’m proud to be a brethren of the cloth with any wizard that can die and come back to even stronger box office receipts. Better still, the website for my ministry says it will give me tips for starting my own church!
Last week I told an older relative I’d just married Patrick. She was so impressed by that fact that she asked if I could preside over her funeral. I promised her I would get right to the Internet and check it out. I can do it.
The young lawyer’s wedding was performed at the top of a mountain in Keystone, Colo., but the rehearsal took place at a different location. The sun was shining in my eyes during the rehearsal, so the next morning I went straight to a camping store and bought suitable reflective sunglasses with orange frames. We all had to take gondolas to get to the wedding venue, and when I emerged from the second gondola, I was wearing those orange sunglasses. They looked pretty spiffy with my tux, but I didn’t plan to use them during the ceremony unless there was a dire emergency. As I walked up to the photographer for a family picture, Patrick grabbed me and said, “Laura says you will not be wearing those sunglasses.”
The next challenge to my fledgling ministry came when I approached the band to claim my lapel microphone. The leader of the band said nobody told him to bring a portable mic, as the wedding planner loudly protested, “[I]t’s in the contract.” Regardless of the legal dispute over contract construction, there was going to be no microphone. I grabbed one of the guests – a lawyer – and asked him to sit in the last row to monitor my volume and signal me with a thumbs up or down.
When a lawyer prepares for trial, there may be nervous moments. That’s not unreasonable. There are a lot of things to put into place, and a lot of things can go wrong. However, once the preparation is done, the fun begins. Being asked to officiate at Patrick and Laura’s wedding was humbling, and brought tears to Cheryl’s eyes. But, like a trial, it also had its scary points. I’d never done it before; I knew there would be lots of friends listening; and, knew the bride’s parents would be wondering what kind of job I was going to do at their daughter’s wedding. Most of all, I thought about the fact that it was me, among all the other possible choices, that had been selected. I didn’t want to let Patrick and Laura down.
I questioned the young couple regarding their expectations and any guidelines they could give me. When they were silent, I threatened to show up as the cigarette smoking Father Guido Sarducci of “Saturday Night Live” fame. For those too young to be familiar with Father Guido Sarducci, trust me – that should have provided significant impetus for them to offer me help. In the end, I got a little guidance and things went well.
I was able to incorporate a quote from the Jesuit philosopher, Anthony de Mello about seeing life as good or as bad as they chose, and I even threw in a joke highlighting the most important day in their lives – that being the day they won an Octoberfest Beer Drinking contest, with the 115 pound Laura anchoring their “four man beer drinking team” which defeated 31 other teams composed of mostly 250-350 pound men. Patrick looked horrified at the surprise mentioning of that victory, but as Laura stopped crying and started laughing at the mention of the victory, and as I turned the joke into a lesson about the surprises life brings and the reward afforded those who show up, Patrick started smiling.
Some people seemed surprised that I appeared quite comfortable in this new role. I heard one of my daughters explaining “[W]ell, what do you expect? He talks for a living.” So, as it turns out, being a lawyer really is a good foundation for other things. Nevertheless, rather than starting my own church, I’ve decided to keep practicing law. Of course, if you are looking to be married, I’m your man.
© 2014 Under Analysis, LLC Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. Mark Levison is a member of the law firm of Lashly & Baer. Contact Under Analysis by e-mail at comments@levisongroup.com.