Speeches — it’s all about the timing
1. What 1968 Stanley Kubrick film did actor Rock Hudson reputedly walk out of, saying: ‘‘Will someone tell me what the hell this is about?’’?
2. Who wrote
3. Spencer Perceval was the only British prime minister to die from what cause?
4. The American jazz saxophonist Stanley Gayetski became better known by what name?
5. Multinational petroleum company Petrobras is based in which country?
6. Recreational fishing for species such as carp and perch, as opposed to the more prized trout and salmon, is known in Britain as what?
7. What famous Frenchman lived in the village of Giverny?
8. A fraudulent scheme in which money from new investors is used to pay out earlier ones is known as what?
9. What airline is Hong Kong’s flag carrier?
10. What name was given to a hospital where tuberculosis patients were exposed to plenty of fresh, unpolluted air?
There was a point in Bishop Michael Curry’s stirring royal wedding sermon last weekend at Windsor when I said to him, OK, that’s amazing, you’ve knocked the socks off everyone, now it’s time to wrap it up.
I thought he may have heard me through the telly because a few seconds later he told the bride and groom, Meghan Markle and Prince Harry, he was going to sit down; adding, ‘‘We got to get y’all married.’’
It’s one of the neatest exit lines to a wedding speech that I’ve ever heard.
But instead of winding down, Bishop Curry revved up, veered off-piste and spent a few minutes introducing the congregation to the teachings of French Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.
This was about the discovery and harnessing of fire and the bishop eventually looped back to make another point about the power of love, the topic of his singular sermon.
Timing is everything on these occasions, and Bishop Curry, head of the Episcopal Church in the United States, missed his moment to bow out.
A few bemused/amused royals and Hollywood A-listers aside, his spirited sermon had the undivided attention of Harry and Meghan’s crowd (and the world watching at home). Then he lost them; 14-15 minutes was too long and for this he’s drawn some fire quite unrelated to de Chardin’s teachings.
The bishop is unrepentant and he has a mischievous sense of humour. He said in a post-wedding interview that he’d planned his speech and intended it to be six minutes: ‘‘It was a little longer than that because there were some pauses in there.’’ I do like his style, even if I wish he’d stuck to the script.
Many commentators, of course, have said the whole thing was brilliant, every last word of it. Which goes to show that views on what makes a cracking wedding (or funeral) speech are many, varied and entirely subjective. It’s about personal preference, the calibre of the speaker, the sense of occasion, audience attention span and the risky business of losing your listeners if you go on for too long. I’m scarred for life by a rambling, lengthy address at the first funeral I ever conducted as a celebrant a couple of decades ago.
The family asked for an open microphone session at the end of the official speeches, an invitation to anyone who wanted to say a few words. An old friend immediately stepped forward with a sheaf of notes.
A few minutes into it (despite a directive for brevity), it became clear that this would take some time and it was more about him than the woman whose life was being celebrated.
Eventually, there was shuffling, throat-clearing and pleading looks from the woman’s family in the front row, and after 15 minutes, the situation felt desperate. It’s really difficult, though, to politely interrupt in these circumstances.
As the speaker paused for a moment to reassemble his papers, I moved to his side and thanked him for sharing his thoughts. He kind of indicated that he had more to go, changed his mind, and wrapped up. It was uncomfortable and there were no more takers for the microphone.
When my husband Bill died in December, I apparently became quite bossy as we planned his funeral service. I allocated a strict time limit for the eulogy, and for other speakers, and I also asked to see the various scripts to avoid overlap as much as possible. There was no open microphone.
Those involved were all our family and dearest friends and – bless them – they humoured me and did as they were asked (or told?). It was still a longish ceremony of rituals, readings, music and speeches and I was pleased I hadn’t been tempted to add last-minute extras. In another context, as a marriage celebrant, I’ve met many couples whose ceremony brief is simply to be brief: ‘‘Marry us quick,’’ they say.
Bishop Curry would certainly not be on their order of service, nor would any other trappings of a church wedding.
With a simple wedding, it still seems important to convey a sense of occasion rather than its becoming a blink-andmiss-it moment. Having said that, I’ve officiated at happy nuptials that – on request – lasted five minutes and involved only the basic legalities.
The most important thing for any ceremony, or ceremony speech, regardless of length, is for it to be as warm-hearted as possible.
Bishop Curry nailed that for Harry and Meghan. He smiled at them, he was utterly engaged with them as he spoke about the power of love, and booked a whole chapter for himself in the annals of gobsmacking wedding legends.