The Wedding

Always undone by my displays of emotion, my daughter begged me in vain: “Promise you won’t cry, Mom.” But that was a promise I knew I could not make. I always cry at weddings.

I held it together through Pachelbel’s Canon while the groomsmen and bridesmaids made their entrance, and I laughed and smiled at the adorable ring bearer and flower girl. It was when the groom, a young cousin on my husband’s side, appeared with his beaming parents, lovely people who have seen more than their fair share of hardships, that the tears began. These are happy tears of course: weddings are a celebration, a time of joy. What makes me emotional at weddings is the display of raw courage, the stripping away of doubts and fears, the unabashed faith required for two people to stand before the world and commit themselves to one another. No one can reach adulthood without realizing that bad stuff happens in the world. It happens at a personal level, it happens on a global level; life is rarely fair and trouble free. But at a wedding, two people come together to declare to God and the world that they believe their love is strong enough to survive a lifetime, not knowing what that lifetime will hold. They declare their belief that facing life together will make all that comes their way a little better.

It is a beautiful declaration, and everyone in the room sits with their own thoughts, listening to the words of the officiants, and the babies crying. They sit there holding the hand of a spouse, remembering, or a boyfriend or girlfriend, wondering. They sit alone, some missing someone, some wondering who could ever make them do this themselves. The young husband sits with his newly pregnant wife, and they smile. And the tired parents try to sit, while their children wriggle in their seats.

By declaring their love, the bride and groom take charge, for that moment, of all of us. They lead us, daring us to stand with them in the face of all we know – yes, in the face of all we know – and applaud their hope, their commitment, their raw courage. It is a truly uplifting victory for all that is good.

At this particular wedding, the groom is Jewish and the bride is Chinese. The ceremony is a beautifully orchestrated balance of Christian and Jewish traditions, translated sentence by sentence into Chinese. The combination of cultures and religions necessitates an even greater kind of courage, and even greater level of support from all of us. The newlyweds will face challenges as they weave a life together from two rich traditions, requiring them to be ever curious, ever tolerant, ever accommodating. Those of us standing behind them in life must raise ourselves to a higher level too, a higher level of understanding that in a changing world it is the shared values of love, respect and inclusion that must win out over divisiveness and exclusion.

That room was filled with people who have faced hardships and sadness. But every one of us put on our best clothes and our biggest smiles and came to the wedding. We came to eat and drink, we came to dance, and we came to tell the young couple that if they believe in each other, then we believe in them. It is a message we should repeat every day to every one we love.

The bride was glowing, the groom’s smile lit up his face. They faced each other, holding hands and whispering words of support to each other. They declared their love for one another, and their commitment to journey through life at each other’s side. The pastor and the cantor gave them words of wisdom to guide them, and prayers to bless them, in front of God and all who love them, and we cheered at their courage, and yes, I cried.