The crowns are the central act of the Orthodox wedding ceremony. When the priest places them on the bride and groom’s heads, he’s making visible what God is doing, crowning this couple as king and queen of a new household, blessing them with glory and honor, and calling them to a life of mutual sacrifice.
You’ll hear them called stefana (the Greek word for crowns). They’re usually made of metal or flowers, often joined by a ribbon to show the couple’s unity. In some Antiochian parishes the groom’s crown is gold and the bride’s is silver, though practices vary. What doesn’t vary is their meaning.
Crowns of Glory
The priest says it out loud three times: “The servant of God [name] is crowned to the servant of God [name], in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Right then the choir sings, “O Lord our God, crown them with glory and honor.” That’s Psalm 8, the same psalm about humanity being crowned with glory when God made us in His image. Marriage restores something of that original blessing. It sets the couple apart for a sacred task.
They’re crowned because they’re entering a vocation. Their home becomes a little kingdom where they’ll practice love, forgiveness, hospitality, and all the things Christ taught. Not a kingdom of power but of service. That’s why the crowns point forward to the Kingdom of God itself. At the end of the service, the priest prays that God will “receive their crowns into Your Kingdom, keeping them spotless, blameless, and without reproach.” The crowns they wear for twenty minutes symbolize the crowns waiting for the faithful in eternity.
Crowns of Martyrdom
But there’s another layer. We also call them crowns of martyrdom.
That sounds dramatic, especially here in Southeast Texas where martyrdom isn’t exactly a daily concern. But “martyr” just means “witness.” The couple is crowned as witnesses to Christ’s love. And witnessing costs something. It means dying to yourself daily. Putting your spouse first when you’d rather not. Forgiving when you’re hurt. Staying faithful when it’s hard. That’s the martyrdom of marriage, not dying once in a blaze of glory but dying to self over and over for decades.
Fr. Thomas Hopko used to say that marriage is one of the Church’s ascetic paths. It’s not easier than monasticism, just different. The crowns remind the couple (and everyone watching) that this path requires sacrifice. Real sacrifice, not the greeting-card kind.
What Happens During the Crowning
The ceremony itself is beautiful and strange if you’ve never seen it. After the betrothal and the blessing of the rings, the priest blesses the crowns and places them on the couple’s heads. Sometimes the best man (the koumbaro) or maid of honor holds them just above their heads if they’re heavy. The crowns might be switched back and forth three times between bride and groom.
Then the couple drinks from a common cup, wine, symbolizing their shared life of joy and sorrow. They walk three times around the analogion (a small table holding the Gospel book) while the priest leads them in procession. It’s a dance, almost. A first journey together as husband and wife, circling the Word of God that will guide their marriage.
Only at the very end does the priest remove the crowns. He doesn’t hand them to the couple right away. He lifts them and prays that God will accept these crowns in His Kingdom. The crowns belong to God first.
How This Differs from What You Might Expect
If you grew up Baptist or Methodist, this probably sounds nothing like the weddings you’ve attended. No vows exchanged (the commitment was made earlier, before the betrothal). No “you may kiss the bride” moment. No minister asking “do you take this woman.” Instead, the whole service is prayer, the priest asking God to bless, unite, and crown this couple. The Church isn’t witnessing a contract between two people. The Church is performing a Mystery, a sacrament where God acts.
Catholic weddings have rings and vows but usually no crowns. Protestant weddings focus on the couple’s promises to each other. Orthodox weddings focus on what God is doing. The couple receives something. They’re crowned, blessed, united by grace. It’s not about their decision or their commitment, though those matter. It’s about God making them one flesh and calling them into His Kingdom.
That’s why the crowns stay on through most of the service. They’re not decorative. They’re sacramental. When you see a couple standing at the altar wearing those crowns, you’re looking at a king and queen. Not of some earthly domain but of a household being offered to God, a small outpost of the Kingdom that’s coming and already here.
