Lewis Moten

Disclaimer
I am not an attorney, and nothing on this page should be interpreted as legal advice, legal interpretation, or guidance on pursuing any legal action. This page reflects my personal experiences, my own research, and publicly available information. Anyone seeking legal advice or interpretation of Virginia law (or any law) should consult a licensed attorney or the appropriate court.

An Ongoing Experiment in Authority

In most states, becoming a wedding officiant is as easy as clicking a button and waiting for the heavens to email your credentials. Virginia, however, prefers its ministers to arrive with more paperwork than piety. Here, ordination isn’t just a matter of faith — it’s a test of bureaucracy.

Unlike many other states, Virginia requires officiants to be affiliated with an established, physical congregation—not simply ordained through an online ministry. Judges have broad discretion, and many interpret the law strictly: if your ordination came from the internet, it probably won’t hold up in a Virginia courtroom (or chapel).

That means a minister who can legally marry people in California, New York, or Texas under the Universal Life Church or Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster might be met with polite rejection here in the Old Dominion. Virginia allows for one-time authorizations, but each requires a specific couple, date, fee, and a court order. It’s not a standing credential — it’s more of a ceremonial day pass from the Almighty Bureaucracy. It seems more likely that Virginia doesn’t recognize the validity of marriages performed out of state by anyone other than ministers from brick-and-mortar churches, and to ensure marriages are followed correctly in Virginia, they require a physical presence rather than training, testing, character references, and background checks, which some online churches offer.

I learned this firsthand on November 3, 2025, when I presented my Universal Life Church (ULC) credentials to the Warren County Clerk’s Office. The clerk was kind but clear: the judge will not sign off on credentials acquired online. Apparently, Virginia wants faith with a ZIP code — something rooted in a congregation and a building, not a calling or community of shared belief.

As our state motto proudly declares: Sic Semper Tyrannis (Thus Always to Tyrants).
Apparently, that extends to ministerial authority as well.

The Return

I returned to the clerk’s office on November 18th to get more information. They told me that the 26th Judicial Circuit Court has ruled against recognizing Universal Life Church credentials. Instead, my only path would be to file a civil action for $61, or select the option under Miscellaneous → Appointment → Marriage Celebrant.

They provided a full packet of paperwork:

• a civil case cover sheet
• a Petition for Authorization to Celebrate the Rites of Marriage
• an Order for Permission to Celebrate the Rites of Marriage for the judge to sign

On top of that, there’s also a $500 bond, which is returned once the marriage license is filed back with the court as proof the marriage actually occurred.

What made the conversation even stranger is that, while the clerk kept referring to this as a “one-time authorization,” the form itself includes a very different option:

“The petitioner is authorized to perform marriages in the Commonwealth of Virginia.”

That appears to authorize multiple marriages, not just one — the exact opposite of what I was told.

The titles of the documents add another layer of confusion. Every form is labeled with the suffix:

(Persons Other Than Ministers)

If I filled these out, I’d basically be declaring under oath that I’m not a minister — despite holding multiple ordinations. It feels like the forms should really say something like “Persons Unrecognized as Ministers by This Court.” That would at least be honest.

As written, it’s a bureaucratic paradox: I am a minister filling out paperwork that says I’m not one, to get permission that the form itself suggests could be a one-time-only deal, while being told verbally that it cannot.

Virginia truly excels at keeping its paperwork interesting.

A Response From Universal Life Church

After my ordination through the Universal Life Church, I reached out to them to share the first issue I encountered when attempting to register as a wedding officiant in Warren County. The county clerk politely informed me that the judge would not recognize online credentials.

ULC responded with the following explanation, which sheds light on why Virginia stands out among the states:

Unfortunately, ministers ordained online are frequently denied their right to perform wedding ceremonies in the State of Virginia. This is the result of an old informal opinion penned by a counsel of the state Attorney General, and is neither the expressed Official Opinion of that office, nor is it codified in any state law.

They noted that ULC recently filed a lawsuit (May 22, 2025 – Civil Action 5:25-cv-00047, Western District of Virginia, Harrisonburg Division) challenging, they allege, an unconstitutional infringement of the rights of their ministers.

See: Universal Life Church Case Law

ULC also mentioned that some ministers in Virginia have successfully registered using a notarized Letter of Good Standing, signed by the church’s administrator and two non-ordained members of the church. The success rate appears inconsistent, varying by county and individual judge.

The most telling part of their guidance was this:

At that point the clerk will determine whether to grant you permission… We understand that it is possible that your attempt will be denied.

In other words, even with proper documentation, Virginia’s recognition of online ministers often comes down to judicial discretion rather than statute.

ULC was clear that I could still perform informal ceremonies—the symbolic, spiritual part—while the couple has their marriage license signed at the courthouse. But of course, that’s not the same as being recognized as the officiant.

The Lawsuit

I’m not the only one who’s noticed this disconnect. Earlier that year, on May 22, 2025, the Universal Life Church Monastery filed a federal lawsuit — Civil Action No. 5:25-cv-00047 — in the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Virginia (Harrisonburg Division). The case challenges Virginia’s refusal to recognize online ordinations, arguing that it violates the First and Fourteenth Amendments by favoring traditional, brick-and-mortar religions over newer or digital ministries. The suit highlights what many of us have already experienced firsthand: in Virginia, a certificate of faith is more about geography than belief.

Frankly, that’s where I disagree. Restricting ordination to brick-and-mortar churches excludes many genuine ministries, independent faith leaders, and modern approaches to service that don’t fit traditional molds. Jesus required no special schooling for his disciples other than being called to his ministry. In an age where community often happens across distances — through shared values more than shared pews — the law feels like a relic of an older gatekeeping instinct.

In fact, the Virginia law also allows various current and former judges (active, senior, and federal) and elected officials (General Assembly, governor, lieutenant governor, attorney general, Congress, and clerk of the circuit court) to officiate weddings. When I served on the board of zoning appeals, I had quasi-judicial powers; however, that isn’t enough to qualify for judicial status under Virginia Code §20-25. I have experience in interpreting and applying law, public service in an official capacity, familiarity with legal processes, and a commitment to community trust and accountability. However, having that background is not enough.

Research via LexisNexis

(aka: A Light Afternoon of Fighting Bureaucracy With a Library Card)

On November 21, 2025, I sat down at Samuels Public Library with a mission: to find out whether any court in Virginia had ever ruled against online ordinations — specifically the Universal Life Church — as my local clerk insisted.

To my surprise, after digging through LexisNexis like a caffeinated archivist, I found exactly two cases in all of Virginia that even mention Universal Life Church—and only one of them actually deals with modern online-ordination issues. Not a single one came from the 26th Judicial Circuit (the one Warren County is in). So when the clerk confidently referenced a “previous ruling” from our circuit about Universal Life Church, it seems that ruling… how shall I put this… has achieved the same level of existence as Bigfoot: often talked about, never actually documented.

What I did find, though, was fascinating.

Culpeper County, 2025 — The Church of Gnome Case

In re Petition to Celebrate the Rites of Marriage
(Circuit Court of Culpeper County, August 15, 2025)
2025 Va. Cir. LEXIS 206

During my research, I stumbled upon a very recent case involving a petitioner ordained by the Church of Gnome — a sincere but whimsical spiritual tradition offering 501(c)(3) status, free ordination, and a doctrine of environmental stewardship, intentional living, and community connection. (In other words: not satire, but definitely charming.)

The petitioner submitted:

• A certificate of ordination
• A letter of good standing
• Proof of doctrine and structure
• Evidence of regular communion with their religious community

The court did not immediately approve or deny the petition.
Instead, Judge Dale Durrer scheduled an ore tenus hearing — essentially a “show me” session where the petitioner could testify, present evidence, and call witnesses.

Legal takeaways

• Virginia Code §20-23 uses “may,” not “shall,” meaning authorization is discretionary, not guaranteed.
• Cramer v. Commonwealth (1974) is still the controlling precedent. It held that ordinations obtained “casually, easily, expediently, and cavalierly” — including Universal Life Church ordinations — do not obligate a court to authorize a minister to perform weddings.
• Virginia maintains a strong public policy interest in deciding who may solemnize marriages, citing the legal seriousness of the act and penalties for improper completion of paperwork.
• Due process requires a hearing, but not that the petitioner will win.
• Even an online church claiming nonprofit status, with a clear doctrine and organized structure, faces the same uphill climb as ULC ministers.
• Nothing in the ruling conflicts with the idea that:
  • a religious body can be online
  • but the court still has full discretion
  • And “ease of ordination” remains a major red flag

Outcome

If you don’t belong to a physical, local congregation, Virginia courts can — and generally will — deny authorization, even if the church is sincere, structured, and doctrinally complete.

And if even the Church of Gnome, with its philosophy of intentional living and community care, needs a full hearing to prove sincerity… online ordinations from ULC, Dudeism, Pastafarianism, or spiritual humanism face an even narrower path.

It’s not impossible — but Virginia courts treat online ordination the same way a cat treats a closed door: with deep suspicion and arbitrary judgment.

The Captain Myth

You may think that since I have a license to operate a boat, I could simply captain a ship, go out into international waters, and solemnize a wedding there. After all, that’s how it is in the movies, TV Shows, and Cartoons like McHale’s Navy, The Love Boat, Overboard, Pirates of the Caribbean, Down Periscope, and Futurama. The reality is that love does not defy geography, bureaucracy, legality, or gravity. There are still rules based on the flag under which your boat operates. Since it’s more than likely the ship would be operating under a US flag, I’d be subject to US Laws.

The tension of Virginia Laws inspired this whole project: a lighthearted but sincere experiment in authority. How many traditions, digital or otherwise, are willing to recognize a stranger’s sincerity — even if the state won’t? The answer, it turns out, is more than reason suggests.

Reflection

I already attended a church regularly and felt at home there, but because I’m a Freemason, I wasn’t eligible to become a formal member of that denomination. That limitation was what first sparked my curiosity about ordination and what it would take to establish a religious society (or church) of my own.

Update: Since then, I’ve joined a congregation that welcomed me fully and accepted me as a member. It’s a larger church with more opportunities to learn, grow, and serve — so who knows? Perhaps in the distant future, something meaningful may come of it after all.

As it turns out, starting a religious society in Virginia isn’t difficult — at least on paper. With the right blend of bylaws, belief, and bureaucracy, anyone can establish a congregation capable of creating ministers under Virginia Code §20-23. Thanks to the “separation of church and state,” and the protections in Virginia Code § 57-2.02 guaranteeing religious freedom, there’s no legal requirement to register a church unless you plan to open a bank account, hold property, or file for tax exemption.

In practice, the essentials are straightforward: a physical meeting space, a few regular attendees, a written statement of faith, a leadership structure, evidence of ongoing gatherings, and bylaws. Simple enough — though it’s a heavy burden that starts to sound a little like launching a startup for the soul just to exercise your religious beliefs – counter to §57-2.02. Of course, I’m no lawyer — just a curious citizen trying to make sense of how the spiritual meets the procedural.

Still, walking through this thought experiment reminded me that structure and mentorship matter. It’s one thing to file paperwork; it’s another to grow in faith within a living, breathing community. For now, I’d rather stay rooted in a structured church, continue studying Scripture, and explore new ways to grow in faith alongside others.

In that sense, this “experiment in authority” isn’t really about collecting ordinations — it’s about finding the balance between tradition and calling, and exploring what faith looks like when both conviction and bureaucracy vie for the pulpit.

The Religious Test

Many states take a sensible approach and simply accept all ordinations equally — including satirical ones — because governments cannot act as referees over belief systems. But in Virginia, the line is drawn at brick-and-mortar churches in the same locality. Which raises a whole series of unavoidable questions:

• Why does Virginia accept Ordination A, but not Ordination B?
• What makes one belief system of one religious society favored over another?
• Who decides what counts as a “real” church?
• Who decides which faiths are “real”?
• Why is one religion more legitimate than another?
• Why is there a sincerity test?
• Can sincerity be measured by ZIP code?
• Should geography determine legitimacy?
• With satire credentials, why are the judges’ beliefs based on seriousness or prestige?
• And how many ordinations does it take before the Commonwealth trusts you as much as the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster does?

I’ve been ordained multiple times across a wide range of traditions — each with official documents, supporting bodies, and clear statements of religious purpose — yet Virginia rejects them solely because they originate online, not because of anything related to their doctrine, legitimacy, or sincerity. That blanket rejection creates a uniform, automatic denial that treats all online-based faith ministries the same, regardless of whether they operate as real religious communities.

This broad, categorical restriction raises serious concerns in light of the spirit of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act. Instead of evaluating ordinations individually or considering less restrictive alternatives, the state applies a single, mechanical rule: if it came from the internet, it’s invalid. The decision is based entirely on the method of ordination, not the substance, practice, or beliefs of the ministry.

In effect, the policy functions as a system of categorical exclusion — a form of structural discrimination against entire classes of religious organizations and the people who belong to them. It blocks equal access to officiating weddings for sincere ministers whose traditions operate differently from those of brick-and-mortar congregations.

Although I belong to a brick-and-mortar church in Warren County, Virginia, it does not accept my online ordinations — not even in combination. Virginia doesn’t look at your sincerity, your service, or your actual involvement in a real congregation. Instead, the courts focus strictly on one narrow point: Was your ordination issued by a physical, established religious society located in the state of Virginia? If the answer is no, your ordination is treated as automatically invalid – even if you worship every week in a brick-and-mortar church a stone’s throw from the courthouse. So even though I belong to a physical congregation in Warren County — one that welcomed me despite my Masonic affiliation — the courts won’t recognize any ordination unless it comes directly from that specific local church (or another Virginia-based religious body with a physical presence). Virginia recognizes the church, but not the ordination of its members. And it acknowledges the ordination, but not the church that ordained me.

Online churches: 12 votes of confidence
Virginia: still 0

And the irony is that Virginia could allow clergy from any tradition to officiate weddings with virtually no risk. The couple must still obtain a marriage license from the local clerk’s office, which confirms identity, eligibility, and legal capacity to marry. The officiant cannot “marry anyone they like,” because the county controls the license, not the minister.

Forty-nine other states manage this balance without difficulty. Virginia’s uniquely restrictive approach burdens ministers without improving oversight, accuracy, or public safety. It simply narrows the definition of “acceptable” religion to those with buildings and signage — excluding entire faith communities whose ministries operate differently.

The Collection

Below are some of my credentials in detail, as outlined in various ordination kits — tangible proof that divine paperwork can still come with free shipping. Many include a combination of a certificate, ID card, and letter of good standing, sometimes adorned with embossed seals, notarization, or wet-ink signatures. Each reflects how every locality — and every denomination — defines legitimacy a little differently, depending on how seriously they take the divine art of documentation.

Issued By	Issued	Notes
Wanderlust Bay Ministries	Dec 10, 2025	(problems ordering credentials?)
Christian Leaders Alliance	in-process	Trained and passed tests. Need a character reference.

Churches I’m Avoiding

As part of this “experiment in authority,” I’ve explored a wide range of online ordinations — some sincere, some symbolic, some humorous, and some deeply reflective. But not every organization fits the purpose of this project. In a few cases, the theology, structure, or expectations didn’t align with my goals. Rather than omitting them entirely, I’m including them here for context and transparency. These are the ministries I chose not to pursue, along with the reasons.

American Fellowship Church	Their website has numerous broken images, and the ordination requires an ongoing $20 annual fee (or a $260 lifetime option). The pay-to-participate model felt more transactional than ministerial, so I chose not to pursue it.
Church of Bacon	The Church of Bacon takes a skeptical stance toward religion and rejects supernatural claims altogether. Their ministers are only permitted to perform services for people they know personally, reinforcing their community-based ethos. They also advocate for a level playing field by supporting the idea that all churches, including themselves, should pay taxes.
National Association of Christian Ministers	Requires a level of theological verification that goes well beyond what I can responsibly claim. While I love studying Scripture, exploring historical context, and writing long-form reflections on another blog, I don’t have formal seminary training to meet their doctrinal expectations. Their process seems geared toward those pursuing structured pastoral ministry rather than someone exploring ordination as part of a broader spiritual and educational journey.
Holy Order of MANS	Seems a bit removed from my own faith and focuses more on the theological study, rituals, initiation, and commitments of its own doctrine.