Thanksgiving. I’m sitting at a long table, filled with
deep-down good people. Anthony &
Melissa have gathered us into their home.
Across from me is a beautiful Indian woman. She has a disarming smile and a hearty
laugh. She turns those clichés into something
real.
She asks me what I do and when I
say that I’m a wedding officiant, she becomes excited and asks: “What do you think is needed to make a
marriage a success?” I hesitate
because I sense her question comes from a place of disappointment.
So, I tell her: “listening.” It’s both a true and safe answer. Although I believe this is the key
communication skill, somehow, when I give her this answer, it doesn’t seem
adequate.
I glance at Anthony &
Melissa. I flash on other couples who
nourish me and I wonder—what makes each of their marriages a “success?” These couples constantly support each other, but
that, too, seems like a worn-out answer.
And then I flash on a moment
Anthony & Melissa shared earlier.
They’d just finished setting-up this Tuscany-like family style
table. I came into the garden and
glimpsed them in a warm, hugging embrace.
Exhausted from the preparations,
they simply fell into each other’s arms—and smiled. It was not so much a sexual embrace as it was
intimately confirming that: We did it.
My grandmother once told me that real love is not those champagne
moments filled with fireworks. Rather, real love is a reassuring whisper in the
dark of night. And that is what I
witnessed in the garden—the intimacy of a reassuring whisper. This is our feast. In our home.
Built on all the moments you helped me and frustrated me. Built on all your surprises that both
delighted me and puzzled me. This night
is our gift to these wonderful and wacky people, who, for better or for worse,
are a part of our home.
As I looked down the table, with
all its mismatched chairs and mismatched guests, I thought: if we can’t give thanks for this moment,
what can we give thanks for?
And then, the woman again asked me,
“Is that all that’s needed for a successful
marriage—listening to the other?”
I look around the garden and
think—no, listening is not enough.
Rather, here, this table, this is what makes for a “successful
marriage.” This table is the gift of two
people dedicated and pledged to creating a life—a life-giving life—that rises
above the rituals of their individual pasts.
Pasts filled with dysfunctions and secrets and questions. A dedication that lets this day swirl with
good, hearty questions: “Do you have
enough? Do you need more? Eat up.
Don’t be shy. Are you sure you’ve
had enough?” Questions asked while
serving and laughing.
What makes for a successful
marriage? In that moment, as I flash on
my family of couples, I’m reminded that it is the generosity with which two
people juggle the hundreds of little things that go into the routine of daily
life. For it’s the sum total of those
tasks and interactions that allow my coupled friends to make their home in each
other, and there to find comfort and safety in the reassuring hospitality of
each other.
As the table is cleared by all of
us who want Melissa & Anthony to relax I remember the movie, Babette’s Feast. It’s the story of two pious sisters
living in a stark and dreary Denmark of the 19th century. When their young maid wins 10,000 francs in a
lottery, she puts on a French feast. The
sisters invite their elderly friends, each of whom is resistant to the
overwhelming smells and tastes. And at
the very end of the evening, the General, a former suitor of one sister
declares, “I now know in this beautiful
world of ours, all things are possible.”
I look around and wonder—are all
things possible? Tomorrow we wake with
our familiar demons. Melissa &
Anthony return to the routine of kids, pets, and work. But this meal reminds us of what is
possible. And without each other, this
feast would not have been possible. No
table. No food. No nourishment. Not like this. Not here.
Not with these people.
Is it too little to say that
here—in this night of reassuring whispers—here can be found the answer for what
makes a marriage successful?
Your wedding is like this
Thanksgiving meal and its “perfection” comes not merely from all going
“smoothly.” No, it comes from all your
guests leaving feeling nourished.
Feeling full from the reminder that life is good and worthy of all that
is good and true within us.
You take each other as husband
& wife and in that taking you give to family and friends a “loud,”
reassuring whisper that all is possible, as you urge them on––eat, have more, don’t be shy! In the doing of this you become an “I.” And in the becoming of an “I” you are able to
do the giving of your “I Do.”
Your “I Do”
celebrates your commitment to being a generous person.
celebrates your commitment to being a generous person.
Happy Thanksgiving!
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