I’ve been to three Quaker weddings.

In the greater scheme of things, that represents only a small handful of the ceremonies I have attended. The list includes full Catholic weddings, replete with long scripture readings, and Thai Buddhist marriages with karaoke machines and chanting monks.

But those three Quaker weddings have left as dominant an imprint as any other ceremony I’ve attended. In fact, the tradition offers, in many ways, an antithesis of sorts to the ‘traditional” wedding pattern. It offers a connubial ceremony pared down to the essentials.

For me, a Unitarian whose family is half-Quaker, this marriage ceremony has always been a comfortable one because of the simplicity, the getting back to silence to reflect, and the focus on the main message - the union of two individuals recognized by a group of peers.

Think of the multitude of sounds at your typical wedding - the organ, belting out “Here Comes the Bride” during the procession; the minister, prompting the couple in their vows; and the church bells, signaling the conclusion of the ceremony.

The reception adds to this cacophonous celebration, with constant music, softer during dinner and louder for dancing; musical interludes for cake-cutting ceremonies and bouquet tosses; and, in the end, a mad dash through rice to an awaiting honeymoon-bound car (with cans attached).

Now imagine silence.

A Quaker wedding is usually held in a Quaker meeting house - a simple, usually wooden structure used for community meetings. The couple-to-be sits in the middle of a circle or in front of family, friends, and acquaintances. There is no minister present, as the congregation acts as its own ministry. The bride doesn’t walk down an aisle, and there is no music to open the service. When all are seated, a volunteer, usually a Quaker elder, stands up to explain how things will proceed.

Once the wedding begins, the silence that ensues is punctuated only by gentle words. The congregation is supposed to engage in general reflection and prayer, and speak only if particularly moved to do so.

For example, the bride’s friend from high school might share a memory with the assembled audience and pass her best wishes on to the couple. Or perhaps the mother of the groom will offer a prayer for the couple and a thought on what constitutes a strong marriage. And so it goes. Long moments of silence, with an infrequent spoken thought or prayer added to the reflection.

There are times when that silence can be overwhelming, as any long period of silence can be. Imagine a large group, especially one in which half the group is accustomed to hearing some form of wedding music or other sounds, and you have some idea of the mental transitions non-Quakers have to make for this kind of ceremony. One of the key precepts of any type of meditation is the ability to clear one’s mind and to let inner peace, reflection, or a sense of God take over - to get in touch with a spiritual center. For some, that comes with great difficulty.

After some time (anywhere from half an hour to 45 minutes of this general silence), the couple will stand up, face each other before the crowd, and recite their vows to each other, unprompted. In some ceremonies, the couple will speak their vows first, followed by the period of quiet worship.

The wedding ceremony at this point is almost over. The couple signs the marriage certificate, and then the certificate is read aloud, concluding the service. The congregation shakes hands, and makes their way out of the meeting hall. As they exit, every attendee stops to sign their name on the wedding certificate, in effect acting as a witness with their signature, and pledging their support toward the marriage’s success in the future.

The reception follows, featuring many of the same aspects as a ‘traditional” wedding, especially the dinner. Music is usually, but not always, played. A number of Quakers do not drink, but sometimes alcohol is provided at the reception for those who do.

There’s flexibility to this pattern, of course, as there are always individual touches to every wedding. Of the three that I have seen, the most affecting combined the Quaker service with Hawaiian wedding traditions, such as leis for the wedding party. The wedding took place on a beautiful spring day in New Hampshire, at a nature conservancy center.

The core of the Quaker tradition is simplicity, and the conviction that there is something of God’s spirit in us all. Among the common Quaker convictions are the idea that war is contrary to the will of God, that there should be no ordained ministry as God can choose anyone as his disciple, and that special buildings for worship are irrelevant.

The roots of Quakerism were planted in the 17th-century, when George Fox, one of the religion’s founders, became disillusioned with the way in which professing Christians were failing to live up to the standards they preached, and began holding meetings with like-minded individuals. The term “Quaker” was used by a judge who wanted to insult the group, insinuating that they “quaked” at their meetings. The group, in typical style, took the name on as their own. The Quakers are also known as the Religious Society of Friends.

Quakers are recognized for their strong sense of duty to the aforementioned goals. During the world wars, Quakers refused to serve in combat, but many took care of the wounded as stretcher-bearers. My grandfather’s brother refused to serve in World War II, and was imprisoned for about a year in Danbury, Conn. because of his beliefs. Quakers were among the most fervent abolitionists before the Civil War, and have always been active in a number of social movements.

Quakers have always seen marriage as a religious commitment, rather than just a legal contract. In 1669, Fox described the following view of marriage:

“The right joining in marriage is the work of the Lord only,
and not the priest’s or magistrate’s; for it is God’s ordinance
and not man’s. We marry none; it is the Lord’s work, and
we are but witnesses.”

In many ways, the silence of Quaker ceremonies matches the meditative quality of Buddhism that I discovered in Thailand, although the Thai weddings themselves were anything but quiet. At the end of the weddings, firecrackers were often thrown around to chase away bad spirits from the couple, and karaoke machines were also almost always present.

We are prone in our culture to celebrate weddings with music and church bells. The Quaker wedding offers another option, and the experience offers as profound a message as any other ceremony.

Benjamin Malcolm is a former New Hampshire newspaper writer and editor who now lives and writes in Takoma Park, MD. He currently works in the international development field and is writing a novel about Thailand, where he served as a Peace Corp volunteer.