What's Really Behind the Wedding Shots

Here are a few pictures of Jonathan and Maria's wedding. I know it may not mean as much to those who do not know our family, but it does give me the excuse to talk about what it means to be in love.

This picture is of our son, Jonathan, and his lovely bride Maria on their wedding day August 27th of this year. As with every marriage, ahead of them waits mountains and valleys, problems and crises, happiness and celebration, and the unknown. Can you look at this picture and tell if they will be married for 5 years or 50 years? Of course not. A picture is a snapshot in time preserved to look like the subjects want you to see them. They look happy - but everyone can look happy if you have enough time to prepare for the shot. It's not the outside but the inside that contains happiness. Now, granted, it's their wedding day and, considering all they went through to get here, they surely are a happy couple. But happiness is a moment in time. It is fleeting - here and then gone. Love is a sustaining state because, unlike happiness, love is not dependent upon circumstance. Love is not an emotion. Love is a choice. Their happiness, in no small measure, emanates from their choice to love and commit themselves to one another and to God.

This is our youngest son, Joel, and his lovely wife of one year, Shafali. Do they look happy? Of course they do. But what is going on behind the smiles and the fancy clothes? Can you see inside of them and know what is going on in their lives, hearts, minds, and souls? Of course not. And in many ways, neither can they. They cannot know the fullness of all they feel and sense and know because they have not yet full matured in either their relationship with each other or, for that matter, in their understanding of themselves. What you see here is a portrait of time and place. What they are; who they are; what they are becoming: what they shall do; what they shall be; how they shall live - these are all things that are in a state of development. Even this happy, loving couple cannot know all they will know about who they really are. Love is not an instant broth. It is a slow cooker, simmering over a long period to bring out the full and rich character of a loving relationship.

Here is our eldest son, Doug and his lovely wife, Susan. How long have they know each other? How long have they been married? Has it been a year? Two? Five? Ten? More? Where did they get married? What was their marriage ceremony like? Of course, none of us can really know this. But Doug and Susan can not only tell you the answers to these questions but when they tell you the answers will become to them a story, a narrative movie in their minds. As they tell you the story of their nearly 15 years of marriage (my goodness, has it been that long, really!) they will remember the story of their love and, in some sense, relive it. That is how we keep our lives alive. Not just by looking at today or projecting into the future, but by telling our own stories of love and life. It becomes a way in which we all get to know one another. Stories of what has happened to us and how we came to be who and what we are are the stuff of friendships and the foundation of what the church calls fellowship (koinonia). And none of us has ever had too many friendships that are deep and lasting.

What does all this really mean? It means that weddings and funerals are the only times we tend to gather and tell the stories that define who we are, what we are becoming, and what what is happening to us. How sad! There is a wonderful gap in between those moments that we should all take advantage of. So, if your family is gathering at Thanksgiving or if your kids are going trick-or-treating on Halloween or if you have dinner planned with family members after church on Sunday, tell some stories; remember how things came to be; ask others to tell you their stories (is there anything we like better than talking about ourselves?); and listen to the heartbeat of the lives you love and the people you know best. And by the way, I really was happy in this picture - and, no, it was not a fleeting feeling. It was a rich, deep, abiding sense of love for all three of my children and the wives God has blessed them with.