Last
Saturday I officiated the wedding of Stephen & Monique, a couple who are
friends of Steve & Katie, a couple whose wedding I officiated last
year. Stephen had been one of Steve’s groomsmen
and now Steve was one of Stephen’s. In
fact, Stephen’s other three groomsmen had been groomsmen for Steve, as all the
guys had been in the same fraternity at LMU.
I wanted to
make sure that at Stephen and Monique’s ceremony I didn’t say any of what I had
said at Steve and Katie’s wedding. But
not only could Stephen and Monique not remember what I had said, not even the
groomsmen could remember!
Each reassured
me that although they couldn’t remember my words, they’d been touched by the
ceremony and my sentiments.
After the
ceremony, I asked Katie, last year’s bride, if I had repeated what I’d said at
her wedding. She laughed as she, too,
couldn’t remember what I had said. All
she knew was that she felt as refreshed at this wedding as she had at her own.
When I coach
professionals in public speaking, I remind them that all sorts of studies
confirm that after a presentation people forget 50% of what they heard by the
time they get home and they will forget 50% of the 50% by the next day. I stress that before giving a presentation, a
speaker needs to know what it is they want their audience to remember.
A wedding is
a unique type of presenting and this weekend I was reminded of what I sometimes
lose sight of – family and friends will not remember my exact words, but they
will remember the feeling and tone I create – they will remember the experience
I create.
I recently
met with a couple who are getting married next year. When I asked them if they know what they want
or don’t want in their ceremony, they told me about a boring wedding they’d
attended. While they couldn’t remember
what the officiant had said, they remembered how the ceremony had a disjointed
feel about it, how nothing that was being done or even said made sense. They felt like they were simply observers,
onlookers at an odd event.
Another
couple I recently met with originally were going to marry last year but with
less than a month to go they called it off.
They’re now at a place where they know they are necessary in each
other’s life and are ready to marry in a way they were not the first time. To my surprise, they told me that they
couldn’t stand the officiant they had hired, but they didn’t care as he was
cheap and that was their priority.
The bride
shared that now the ceremony is the most important part of their wedding day,
but she doesn’t want to be the center of attention and she doesn’t want the
ceremony to be long. She does, though, want
it to be meaningful.
So what is
this “thing” we know as a wedding ceremony?
Strip away
the clichés, religious and civil, strip away the pomp and circumstance, and
what you’re left with is – an exquisite moment
in time.
A ceremony
is the acknowledging and affirming and blessing the simple and lovely miracle
of these two persons, alive on earth at the same moment, pledging to live all
the remaining moments of life together.
Despite its
power, or maybe because of its power, a ceremony is a fragile experience. It’s not a vehicle for lecturing or venting,
rather, it’s a moment in time in which everyone present does something out of
the ordinary – they give thanks for the brave generosity of two people.
Maybe it’s
because it is so simple that a ceremony is so tricky to execute.
Last month, October,
I officiated eleven weddings that together had over one thousand guests. Given the opportunity to speak to a thousand
people was a privilege I cherish. But,
now, I wonder about all those wedding guests.
What will they remember of the ceremony?
What do I want them to remember?
While I’ll
never know what they remember, here’s what I hope they will remember:
·
That they were part of an invited
group who witnessed something extraordinary – the pledging of love between two
people – love faithful, protective and sturdy.
·
That despite the fact that life
can be exhausting – life is good and worthy of our best – and because they
joined in the feast, they will continue to live life and not slog through it.
·
That we need one another –
whoever that “another” may be, so that we can live with generosity and courage.
Maybe,
though, all I need them to remember, all I want them to remember, is this –
that they
experienced a moment where they felt valued and appreciated because they valued
and appreciated a couple who said “yes” to life in all its messy, uncertain
glory.
1 comment:
Beautiful JP! Your words, as always, are exquisite!
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