The Wedding, ceremony part 1

Gathering

Here, in our best bib and tucker we flock,
Drawn from all the hell over, iron filings to a magnet,
An intricate pattern, a one-time convergence
Of friends and relations, a living mandala;

Young and old, nephews and nieces,
Sisters and brothers, parents, grandfather,
And all those others you got to choose for yourselves
Agglomerating to hold you in the centre.

Slow in coming, swift in passing, this day
Slow but long-lasting the major choice confirmed,
Hardly inevitable, yet falling into place
As though it were just what we always expected.

So we join, as you join,
In celebrating love – yours for each other of course
Ours, as you must know, for you – circling,
Cherishing, blessing, releasing
Love, the core of all.

William H Matchett

Those of you who have been invited here to witness The Boy and Peony's wedding ceremony and to celebrate with them here today will play your part in their marriage too. There are only two official witnesses at a wedding but each and every person here today will witness the words that they will speak to one another and the vows that they will make. You should take good care to remember these words for a marriage needs the help of a community, of friends and family who will be there when needed and will do all that they can during hard times to stand by The Boy and Peonies and offer their support to them and the new family that they will create. May you always do all within your power to support the union that will be made here today and to nurture the bond between these two people whom you love.

Throughout time countless millions of people from many cultures, religions and societies have gathered among friends and families to celebrate their love for one and other and their commitment to each other. Each culture has symbols and rituals to celebrate marriage from the Japanese tea ceremony to the Jewish tradition of breaking the glass, a rich tapestry of traditions from around the world combine to symbolise the meaning of marriage. And today we should try to remember that a wedding is a symbol, a beautiful, heartfelt and meaningful symbol but a symbol nonetheless. This ceremony is not magic, it will not create a relationship that does not already exist and has not already been celebrated in all the commitments The Boy and Peonies have made to each other, both large and small, in the days since they first met and recognized their connection to one another. It is a symbol of how far they have come together and a symbol of the promise that they will make to each other to continue to live their lives together and to love each other solely and above all others.

Oh Tell Me The Truth About Love


Some say that love's a little boy,
And some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go round,
And some say that's absurd,
And when I asked the man next-door,
Who looked as if he knew,
His wife got very cross indeed,
And said it wouldn't do.

Does it look like a pair of pyjamas,

Or the ham in a temperance hotel?
Does its odour remind one of llamas,
Or has it a comforting smell?
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is,
Or soft as eiderdown fluff?
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.


Our history books refer to it
In cryptic little notes,
It's quite a common topic on
The Transatlantic boats;
I've found the subject mentioned in
Accounts of suicides,
And even seen it scribbled on
The backs of railway-guides.


Does it howl like a hungry Alsatian,
Or boom like a military band?
Could one give a first-rate imitation
On a saw or a Steinway Grand?
Is its singing at parties a riot?
Does it only like Classical stuff?
Will it stop when one wants to be quiet?
O tell me the truth about love.


I looked inside the summer-house;
it wasn't ever there:
I tried the Thames at Maidenhead,
And Brighton's bracing air.
I don't know what the blackbird sang,
Or what the tulip said;
But it wasn't in the chicken-run,
Or underneath the bed.


Can it pull extraordinary faces?
Is it usually sick on a swing?
Does it spend all its time at the races,
Or fiddling with pieces of string?
Has it views of its own about money?
Does it think Patriotism enough?
Are its stories vulgar but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.

When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I'm picking my nose?
Will it knock on my door in the morning,

Or tread in the bus on my shoes?
Will it come like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.

WH Auden

Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love, have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.

Peonies and The Boy, the symbolic vows that you are about to make are a way of saying to one another, “You know all those things we’ve promised and hoped and dreamed- well, I meant it all, every word.” Look at one another and remember this moment in time. Before this moment you have been many things to one another- acquaintance, friend, companion, lover, dancing partner, and even teacher, for you have learned much from one another in these last few years. Now you shall say a few words that take you across a threshold of life, and things will never quite be the same between you. For after these vows, you shall say to the world, this - is my husband, this - is my wife.

Wedding rings are the oldest wedding tradition of all, outliving by centuries the white dress and even the “I do”. The first evidence of rings as marital symbols dates back some 5000 years ago to the deserts of North Africa; Egyptian art depicts wedding rings worn by both husband and wife. The circle shaped hieroglyph stood for eternity, by no means a uniquely Egyptian symbology, the hole in the middle represented a gateway through which the wearer passed into a new partnership that endured even in the afterlife. These early rings were woven from the reeds and grasses that grew along the Nile and typically only lasted a few months before being replaced anew. They wore it as we do, on the third finger of the left hand, believing that it intersected a vein or artery that went straight to the heart. This tradition passed to the Greeks and then the Romans who called it the vena amoris, or vein of love. The vena amoris intersects the upper-right crease of the palm, which soothsayers came to call the “love line”.

Ponies and The Boy, the promises which you have spoken to each other today are inscribed forever in your minds, in your hearts. But words are fleeting and so those who marry wear rings as visible, tangible symbols of their commitment and of their emotional and spiritual connection.

These rings announce to the world that you have been found. They are a reminder and a celebration of the promises you have made today and in exchanging these bands you knit your two lives together as one.

No one but you can declare yourselves married. You have begun it here today in speaking your vows before your family and friends and you will do it again in the days and years to come, standing by each other, sharing all the sweet and the bitter of life. Each tender act, each loving word will be the declaration of what was made here today.

(Love is a temporary Madness from Louis de Bernieres's Captain Corelli's Mandolin
"The symbolic vows you are about to make" from From Union by Robert Fulghum)