CHAPTER FOUR
WEDDING BELLS
One of the greatest privileges I have as a pastor is officiating wedding ceremonies. It is absolutely one of my favorite things to do. There’s a special kind of energy present on a wedding day. It’s the rare occasion when all the people a couple loves are gathered in one room together. The people who have most influenced and shaped the couple’s lives have all assembled to celebrate this love that God has brought into their lives.
And while I enjoy all the aesthetic beauty that is produced on a wedding day—from the dresses to the decorations, from the desserts to the dance floor—I am most interested at weddings in the beauty underneath all the beauty we’re seeing. So at every wedding I’ve ever officiated, I have said these words at some point in the ceremony:
All of this is beautiful today: the candles and the dresses, the tuxes and the flowers. But there is something roaring underneath it all. And if we miss it, then today’s occasion will be shallow. Because the real intent behind all of this is that we might know and grasp God’s love for us, his pursuit of us, his romance of us, despite being a people who prefer what was created rather than our Creator.
What I’m trying to do at a wedding ceremony is highlight the reality grounding the reality. If we don’t make the spiritual reality the main point, we’re actually going to miss the point. Because all the hard work that goes into the wedding day fades away. The cake gets eaten. The clothing goes back to the rental shop. The dress is stored away. The decorations are trashed or recycled. The flowers wilt. The reality of the marriage must remain long after the reality of the wedding has faded.
When I officiate, I draw attention to Ephesians 5:22–33, which explains what’s going on when a man pursues a woman and they enter into a covenant relationship together. In light of Paul’s words there (and elsewhere) on marriage, the covenantal union of a man and a woman is a shadow of God’s pursuing love and affection for his bride, the church. And what we see in a wedding ceremony is a shadow of God’s loving, merciful pursuit of us in Christ.
Therefore, it’s important to give God so much glory on the wedding day, to give him credit for the entire romance from beginning to end. We want to rejoice in this fact that that “Day of Epiphany” occurred in the groom’s heart. Something clicked, and he wanted a woman. Yes, of course that’s a biological impulse, but it’s a biological impulse because God invented human biology. The man’s desire for a bride exists to show us that God in Christ desired a people.
At a wedding we celebrate that a woman’s affections were won by this man. Similarly, we are celebrating that Christ wooed his people away from their idols, away from their self-reliance, and into his tender and loving care.
So when those doors swing open and all the people stand and gaze upon the bride in her dazzling wedding gown, they traditionally see her arrayed in white as a representation of her virginal purity. The bride may or may not actually be a virgin, but the white dress is a reminder that every sinner who comes to the Savior is made spotless before his presence.
The couple make vows to each other because God has not just called them to profess romantic love to one another but to profess a particular kind of love, the kind that endures, that sticks, that commits.
The man promises to lead and sacrifice. The woman promises to trust and respect. Vows patterned this way reflect the truth of the gospel.
If the gospel of Jesus Christ is not at the center of a wedding ceremony, it is likely not going to be at the center of the marriage. This would be a grave mistake, however, as marriage itself is designed to be a great reflector of that gospel.
Contract vERSUS Covenant
Before we return to the Song of Solomon, I want us to take a look at Ephesians 5:22–33. This passage informs what we are seeing when a man pursues a woman and enters into a covenant relationship with her. Marriage is a picture—although an imperfect one—of Christ and the church.
Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.
Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body. “Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.
Paul’s mention of wifely submission and husbandly sacrifice—particularly the submission stuff!—is not exactly popular today. But one reason it is there in the biblical prescription for marriage relationships is precisely because it cuts against the grain of our flesh. Apart from a profound work of the Spirit, women do not want to submit to their husbands. And apart from a profound work of the Spirit, men do not want to sacrifice for their wives. So we see how the biblical pattern for the marital dynamic requires the grace of God. It is another way marriages are meant to reflect the gospel, as husbands and wives deny themselves, take up their crosses, and follow Christ into his way of loving their spouses.
It is certainly not the world’s way. The way our culture tends to depict the working marriage relationship resembles less the covenant of grace and more a business arrangement.
If you’re over the age of sixteen, it’s likely that much of your life is dictated and directed by the contracts you have agreed to. For example, if you have a cell phone, you entered into a contract with your mobile carrier. If you make car payments, the contract is binding on you until you’ve paid it all off. If you own a house, you signed a mortgage. If you are renting a home, you signed a lease. Insurance, cable television—most anything you pay bills for—involve entering into a contractual agreement. Even using Wi-Fi in certain public locations involves agreeing to their terms of service. Everywhere you turn, there’s a contract to sign. We live in a contract culture.
At a fundamental level, a contract is an agreement between two parties arranging an exchange of goods or services. One party agrees to provide something for the other in exchange for something else. For most of our contracts, that something else is money. It’s all very businesslike, which is why it’s called a contract. It’s not relational.
And here’s what that means: if either party interrupts the reciprocity—if one party refuses to supply the service or the other refuses to supply the payment—then the contract is broken and must be either renegotiated or voided altogether.
For instance, if you pick up your cell phone and it doesn’t work, after you have a total meltdown because you can’t check Facebook, you find another way to contact your carrier and complain. You’re paying good money; why can’t they provide a reliable service? Alternatively, if you stop paying your bill, after they’ve added sufficient late fees and sent you delinquency notices, they’ll just cut off your service. According to the contract, if one party fails to live up to its end of the arrangement, the contract is broken and the arrangement is altered.
Now, how does this compare when people talk about the “marriage contract”? Sometimes when people talk about marriage, they talk about partnership in a good, biblical way. But sometimes when they say marriage is a partnership, they make it sound like a business arrangement. “You need to give fifty-fifty,” they might say.
But this is terrible advice. It is worldly advice. It does not reflect the reality of marriage, which is a reflection of the unique reality of the gospel. After all, Jesus Christ did not say to sinners in need of redemption, “Meet me halfway. Let’s go fifty-fifty on this deal.”
No, marriage is not contractual; it is covenantal.
At the wedding ceremony, then, we have to be careful come vow time. The bride and groom turn away from the minister, face each other, and make profound promises. The vows are their public profession of commitment to one another. They announce in their vows before many witnesses what they mean to do.
The vows must never be contractual. Never, ever, ever. If the vows were explicitly contractual, we’d probably all gasp and realize the marriage is headed for trouble. We would certainly recognize something was wrong if the couple turned to each other and the bride said, “Look, I’m in this thing as long as you mow the lawn,” or if the groom said, “Well, I’ll stick around so long as you keep the dishes clean and the laundry done.”
If I heard vows like that, I’d retrieve my gift from the pile and head home. I’d be thinking, There’s no way they’re gonna pawn this thing when their marriage crashes and burns in a few months.
If we heard vows like that, we’d know right away that the couple was thinking contractually. While hardly any couples exchange vows with conditions like that, way too many couples treat their vows like that in their hearts. Since we are sinners, our natural responses in relationships usually hinge on what might be gained. We tend to turn all our relationships into contractual arrangements of some kind. We’ll sacrifice for our spouse if she deserves it. We’ll submit to our spouse if he agrees with us. We’ll serve our spouse if she’ll serve us in return. But these kinds of thoughts bear no resemblance to the gracious covenant God makes with us.
In a covenant, we don’t barter around services. We’re not trying to get under a tax shelter. We’re entering into a relationship in such a way that we give ourselves to one another. Vows aren’t contractual. They’re covenantal. They sound like the traditional promises: “For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part.” That’s covenantal language.
In the covenant of marriage, husband and wife give themselves to each other. It’s not fifty-fifty; it’s one hundred–one hundred. At any given time either spouse won’t have 100 percent to give, but this does not diminish the other’s commitment because they are not in a contract but a covenant. As in the covenant of grace initiated by God to save sinners, one party can give 100 percent even if the other gives nothing.
In a gospel-centered marriage, you give yourself to your spouse regardless of the goods or the services because that’s what true love is and because that’s what glorifies God.
If everything goes great and you find out as you start your life together that the marriage is exactly what you expected, you’re in. But if you’re like every other normal human being and things get a little problematic, and you find out you married a sinner who’s got some crazy he or she was hiding away, you’re still in.
This is why biblical marriage is so serious—and why divorce is so serious. Ephesians 5 helps us see the weight of the glory of the gospel. Submission is weighty. Sacrifice is weighty. They are weighty like the good news of Jesus Christ is weighty. They are as heavy as the cross.
And in forgiving and loving our sinful spouse, we begin to understand on a much smaller scale what it meant for our holy God to forgive and redeem us.
God’s relationship to the church is not contractual; it’s covenantal. And what’s mind-blowing about God’s covenantal love toward the church is that God fulfills the obligations of both parties! God has put on my life the command that I am to love my wife, Lauren, as Christ loved the church. That is God’s command on my life—regardless of whether or not she reciprocates that love. I don’t love her as Christ loved the church in order to get something from her; I love her that way because that is what God has commanded me to do, and that’s the way he has loved me.
When there is reciprocity—when she receives my love, and when she returns that love—it’s easier to love her, of course. But there is a beauty even in loving without response because that kind of love is truly selfless. When we love with no expectation or promise of reciprocity, we know what it means to sacrifice and deny ourselves in ways we wouldn’t otherwise. And even in happy, healthy marriages, there will be ample opportunities for this kind of one-way grace. In fact, the ample presence of one-way grace is a sign of a happy, healthy marriage!
As in the gospel, in marriage we may also begin to see that the grace that attracts us will sustain us. In God’s covenant with his people, he doesn’t just initiate the covenant in grace; he also enables our ability to respond rightly to the covenant he’s initiated.
What God Has Joined Together
The ceremonial fanfare has begun. The flowers are scattered along the aisle, and the wedding march announces the congregational doors have been thrown open, revealing the bride in her splendor, ready to be presented. And this vision is a glimpse into how the Lord sees his own.
This is how Jesus sees his bride: spotless and blameless. He delights in her; he rejoices in her. For the wedding ceremony to have a lasting joy long after the reception, this delight and rejoicing must remain into the days when the virginal sheen is gone.
One of the things a married couple must be completely in tune with is God’s love for us made manifest in sending Jesus to marry the bride. His love has been an initiating love; his love has been a pursuing love; his love has been a romantic love. But his love has also been a missional love, in that it is commissioned by the Father. The marriage of Christ and his bride is a covenant predestined, designed, and inaugurated by the Father. It is a work of God.
Likewise, for marital love to endure, it must not be sourced in the feelings of husband and wife, which wax and wane and differ—not just year to year, but day to day. Love must be seeded in the eternal purposes of God. A covenantal marriage is God’s handiwork.
Returning to the Song of Solomon, look at chapter 3, verse 6: “What is that coming up from the wilderness like columns of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the fragrant powders of a merchant?”
The couple celebrated that God was involved in bringing the two of them together. The imagery here is meant to be reminiscent of the children of Israel in the wilderness. Do you remember how they were guided through the wilderness? It was by pillars of smoke during the day (see Exod. 13:21–22). Just as God led the children of Israel out of slavery and into freedom, so Solomon and his bride were led by God away from self-reliance and into the liberating grace of covenantal union.
We have to be careful with this line of thinking, though. While I am a passionate believer that God is at work in space and time, and that he is sovereign over all things, I have never been particularly convinced by the idea that there’s a “one” for you. I just see no reason to agree with the worldly romantic notion that every person has just one “soul mate” out there waiting for him or her. In fact, I find that idea to be anticovenantal, contrary to grace. It forces prospective spouses into a routine of measuring up, of being investigated or even interrogated rather than considered. It turns the search for a godly spouse into an audition to be the one who “completes” you. Do you see the subtle pride at work there, the arrogance? Instead of appropriately considering the character of a potential spouse, the romantic relationship becomes about scrutinizing every potential spouse to see if he or she is “the one” for you, as if you are the be-all and end-all.
No spouse can complete you. Don’t look for a spouse to do what only Jesus can.
Even if it were true that there is one person out there for you, isn’t it possible that someone messed up the whole relationship order, like, fifty years ago? I mean, if just one person married the wrong spouse back in the day, do the math—the whole system’s broken like a domino effect of incompleteness.
So quit looking for “the one.” You have a better chance of finding an Oompa Loompa riding a unicorn, fighting Bigfoot.
I do know that God is sovereign over all things. I do believe he is at work in space and time. I know this because when I was in college leading a rather large Bible study, I was often put in the uncomfortable position of Christian girls becoming interested in me—except they weren’t really interested in the real me, but rather in whatever image they had of me because of my influence and position. They got pretty good at working the image too, doing whatever they thought it was I needed to see in a godly girl.
In a Christian college there are also a lot of girls hoping to meet and marry someone in ministry. They want to marry a pastor (I think that’s because they don’t quite understand what we do). This desire is built around so many assumptions.
It was in the midst of all this that I met Lauren. As I said before, we lived about five hours away from each other. She knew I led a Bible study, but she wasn’t thinking I taught a thousand people—she was thinking I had a few guys over to my apartment for fellowship and a little teaching. Right off the bat, the image projection, the interest being based on an idea or aspiration, just didn’t exist with Lauren. She didn’t know anything about the impressive veneer or the reputation. She was interested in me.
I found that wildly attractive.
I could clearly see God at work in that. I could have easily been swayed by the efforts of the other girls to impress me. I could have been swayed by their claims to be impressed by me. I know that God was at work because he brought me into this relationship with a godly woman who wasn’t putting forth an image. And I was very excited by the reality that someone wanted to get to know me—not me the preacher, not me the speaker, just me.
For more than a year, Lauren’s and my relationship was long-distance, conducted almost entirely on the phone aside from my weekend visits. It wasn’t until later that she showed up where I taught and said, “Wow.” But I knew she loved me before she saw that stuff, so I could trust her.
I will give you this credit on the idea of “the one.” I know there is a “one” for me. Her name is Lauren. She was Lauren Walker; now she’s Lauren Chandler. And here’s how I know she’s “the one”: she said yes.
I’m wearing a ring and she’s wearing a ring and we made vows to one another. Because God is at work in space and time, because he is sovereign over all things, we don’t get into conflict or difficult times and wonder if we missed out on “the one.” We trust in God and realize that “the one” is the one you’re in covenant with.
The idea of “the one” can undercut the grace God gives for marriage to be a reflection of the gospel because it can cause us to doubt whether this sinner we married is actually that one. We doubt this especially when he or she doesn’t seem to be “completing” us very well, when we don’t feel especially fulfilled in our marriage. When we begin to give in to our own self-interests, when we cave to lustful temptations, or when we just flat out get bored or irritated, our thoughts often turn away from giving grace to our spouse and toward wondering if the reason we’ve got all this trouble is because we didn’t marry the right person.
So that kind of thinking disgraces marriage because marriage is something God does through us. It is why many wedding ceremonies conclude with this warning, straight from the mouth of Jesus: “What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate” (Mark 10:9). Of course, these words are often said in a perfunctory way, but they speak to the deep spiritual reality of marriage: it is something God has done. To think of it as anything less is to diminish it.
Solomon and the Shulammite woman, then, commenced their nuptials with a celebration of God’s authorship of covenantal grace and therefore God’s authorship of their marriage. By sending up perfumed smoke, they were saying, “Look at how God has worked to bring us together! Look at what we have overcome.” Their wedding was a celebration of all that God had accomplished to lead them to that moment.
As Song of Solomon 3 progresses, we see another important aspect of their wedding ceremony, another contextual facet to their relationship that reflects a greater reality. They stood in front of friends and family members who served not only as witnesses to their covenant but also as supporters of it.
The Community Rejoices
Can we agree that it’s not a good sign if there are disgruntled or otherwise disapproving family members at the wedding? Sometimes weddings get complicated by influential people in one of the families who wish to undermine the marriage from day one. There used to be the traditional call somewhere near the beginning of a wedding ceremony where the minister would say, “If anyone has cause to object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.” They don’t say that too much anymore, and I wonder if it’s because too many people were speaking up and rocking the boat.
This was not the case at Solomon’s wedding.
Behold, it is the litter of Solomon!
Around it are sixty mighty men,
some of the mighty men of Israel,
all of them wearing swords
and expert in war,
each with his sword at his thigh,
against terror by night. (3:7–8)
Who were these guys? The groomsmen!
This was an epic wedding. There were 60 groomsmen; they were carrying swords, and they would be paired up with 60 bridesmaids who were all decked out in beautiful dresses. Solomon and his bride had 120 people proceed up and down that aisle. Their wedding was stacked with people celebrating and supporting them, loaded with friends and colleagues adorning them in their ceremonial splendor. It was a beautiful sight, no doubt, but it was indicative of more than just the pomp and circumstance of a royal wedding.
Remember that godly counsel? Remember those friends who celebrated? They were all there and were thrilled to be there.
One of the things I earnestly hope for and love to see in a Christian wedding is when the groomsmen present are men who have walked alongside the groom as godly friends. They have prayed for him, encouraged him as he fought for purity, and stood with him as he desired to be the man God would have him be to shepherd his bride’s heart. They have been fighting the fight with him. This is why one of my favorite moments before a wedding is getting to go hang out with the groomsmen before the ceremony and hear one of them say, “Let’s pray.” I get to watch those young men lay their hands on their brother and plead with the Lord concerning his marriage. My hope and expectation is that the bridesmaids are doing the same.
What we see on Solomon’s wedding day is a celebration of what God has done, not just through the couple but through everyone involved in their lives. In fact, Song of Solomon 3:11 gives us insight into this reality: “Go out, O daughters of Zion, and look upon King Solomon, with the crown with which his mother crowned him on the day of his wedding, on the day of the gladness of his heart.”
As a parent, I can certainly relate to this text. Solomon’s mama was rejoicing.
This is a big deal. It is not an easy thing for mamas to move to the second chair. It’s so difficult that the Bible issues an edict that a son must leave his mother and father and cleave to his wife. Very often moms of boys don’t want to become the second woman in their boy’s life. So one of the signs that dating and courtship have occurred in a way that is right and respectful is that mom is for this.
Solomon’s mother watched this woman love her son. She watched this woman engage her son’s heart. She saw the joy brought into her baby boy’s life by this woman. And she was happy for them. She was proud of her daughter-in-law. She joyfully handed over the feminine care of her boy to his wife.
Should we even get started on daddies and little girls? My role as the father of two daughters is to get them ready to not need me, then to hand them off to men who will show them the care and love of Christ, who will nurture their souls as I have had the privilege to do from the second they breathed their first breath right up until I walk them down that aisle. I know that’s my job. I don’t think it’s going to be easy.
I have a dear friend in Houston whose youngest daughter got married, and when the young man approached my friend to ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage, my friend said, “Let’s talk. Do you know what you’re asking me?”
“Yeah,” the kid said, “I know what I’m asking. I’m asking if I can marry your daughter.”
“Okay,” my friend replied. “Tell me what you think that means. For example, you realize what I’ve done for her the first twenty-four years of her life, right? I’ve been that place where she can come and cry. I’ve been that place where she can be honest about struggles. I’ve been the one who’s spoken the gospel into her heart. I’ve been her biggest cheerleader, an expert on her strengths, tenderly engaging her weak spots. Are you telling me you’re ready to do that? Because if you’re telling me you’re ready to do that, I’ll say yes. If you’re not ready to do that, then I’m telling you no.”
For a dad to say yes, for a dad to rejoice in his daughter’s wedding day, for a daddy to walk his little girl down the aisle—this little girl he held as a baby, burped and paddled and taught and cheered and supported and prayed for—is a monumental thing. For him to rejoice in handing her over to a younger (usually), more foolish man, entrusting the deep parts of her soul to a guy who knows little about marriage except that he wants to be in one, is not easy.
When dating and courtship occur as they should, then the wedding day will be filled with rejoicing. There will be a celebration that God was involved. There will be rejoicing by the friends and the family members who are there, including Mom and Dad.
At this point in the Song, all the community involvement, especially of the church, culminated in a crescendo of joy for the couple and worship of God. The reputations of Solomon and his bride were complimented by their community. They had their fears consoled by their community. They had their hearts counseled by their community. So the community gathered to rest from this work and begin new work—witnessing the couple’s union and pledging to support them in the new stage of the relationship, the enduring covenant of marriage.
The Husband’s Sacrificial Lead
If we go back to that very first covenantal union in Genesis 3 and see where it all went wrong, we notice something peculiar and important about the relational breakdown between Adam and Eve.
But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. (vv. 4–6)
Did you catch that? Look at that last verse. Eve “also gave some to her husband who was with her.” While the serpent was engaging Eve, tempting her to disbelieve God and disobey his commandments, Adam apparently just stood there, mutely witnessing the whole scene.
There is something extremely important to be seen here because it sets up the relational breakdown that has occurred in almost every marriage since this first one: passivity. On Solomon’s wedding day we receive a vision meant to reflect the groom’s commitment to resist the Adamic curse. Our godly groom was determined to reject the passivity so prevalent among men in the marriage relationship.
King Solomon made himself a carriage
from the wood of Lebanon.
He made its posts of silver,
its back of gold, its seat of purple;
its interior was inlaid with love
by the daughters of Jerusalem. (vv. 9–10)
Now, what occurred on their wedding day after the visions of the beautiful bride and the community rejoicing was a vision of the strength of Solomon. Witnesses to the ceremony marveled at his power. They saw that he was strong, broad, regal, and dignified.
This may sound really odd to you, but it is significant for the very reason that the Bible continues to tell us that the root sin plaguing fallen masculinity is the sin of passivity. It can be seen over and over again, walking forward from Genesis 3, whether it’s Abraham lying about his wife or Moses making excuses in reply to God’s call or Noah’s slump into drunken laziness after the flood … the list goes on and on. Pick a man who stumbles and falls in incredible ways, and his sins always have a root in some fundamental passivity. This passivity is typically characterized by a refusal to step into what God has called a man to do.
What we see in Solomon’s story is an impressive rejection of passivity. He relentlessly engaged his bride’s heart. Remember, he leaped like a stag over the mountains. He kept pursuing. He tried to woo her out of the cleft of the rock. This was not a passive man. Therefore, his strength and leadership were celebrated on his wedding day. He stewarded his power well.
Men, let me plead with you: The greatest fight of your life is not lust. You may think it is, but it isn’t. The greatest fight of your life will be rejecting the passivity that has infected your heart since the fall. Your natural default, especially as it pertains to sacrificial leadership of your wife, will be to mutely witness.
Some may say, “You know, Matt, I’ve met a lot of men who aren’t passive at all. They’re actually way too aggressive.”
And I would say that those men are overcompensating for their passivity.
That kind of aggressive, obnoxious behavior is a faux masculinity that takes the easy path of reaction and impulse rather than the harder path of peace and patience and servanthood.
I’ve seen both extremes time and again, especially in marital counseling. So many men just won’t lead. They won’t step into the fray. They won’t engage. They won’t own what God has given them to own.
They say it’s too hard.
They don’t mind difficulty at work or in sports or fitness or figuring out how to fix something, but when it comes to the difficulty of a relationship, suddenly they wimp out. This challenge out of all the challenges is the one that matters most!
Look, being a man according to God’s Word is hard. Being a boy who shaves is pretty easy. But being a real man requires self-sacrifice. Your life is laid down for the good of your wife, for the good of your children.
This kind of commitment seems evident in Solomon’s wedding. His intentionality showed. His commitment was public. His desire and ability to lead with strength and dignity and honor were clearly confirmed.
This kind of strength comes from the Lord. Men, in the greatest fight of your life, the daily dying to yourself in the rejection of passivity and the acceptance of responsibility, you will need to rely totally on the grace of God in Christ. But this is a good place to secure your trust because the Bible says that God’s grace is power.
We can see the marks of God’s power all over Solomon’s wedding day. The whole thing was colored by the grace of God. And when your relationship is patterned that way, you will see similar celebrations in your own wedding ceremony and subsequently in your married life.