Anyone who knows me realizes I'm not big on formality (an understatement of epic proportions). Nevertheless, my bride to be wanted a traditional wedding so we had one-- for the most part. Money was tight so there were some oddities on the way, but it was traditional enough.
One thing, however, horrified my mother. We didn't send out invitations. We didn't see the point in spending that money (this was before the internet; you couldn't simply invite everyone via a Facebook page or email). It was all in person or over the phone.
Mom did her best. Her final argument, her trump card, should (in her mind) have forced my hand.
"You realize your grandmother will never come without a formal invitation."
"She loves me. She'll come." (She came and never said a word about an invitation.)
Her frustration now at critical mass, a second motivation beyond Mom's simple love of all things formal slipped out. "All these years, I've sent hundreds of gifts to all our relatives and friends when their kids got married. It's time we got some back." This was so foreign to who I am that to this day I'm still not sure how I kept a straight face or what I said.
(In Mom's defense, she grew up dirt poor on the wrong side of the tracks in Selma, Alabama during the depression so propriety and formality went hand in hand with respect. I understood her viewpoint; Sharon and I simply saw things differently.)
But I digress (surprise!). Suffice it to say that though we kept it simple and inexpensive it was traditional, and we planned it. Nothing was left to chance.
Most people plan weddings. It may be traditional or non-traditional, but weddings tend to be planned. Nobody simply throws a wedding.
Nobody except Stefanie McLin and Matthew Monk. They threw a wedding.
There was a modicum of planning. I think the groom's mens' shirts matched. Their pants were all somewhere vaguely in the neighborhood of brown. The bridesmaids wore purplish dresses, varying from shiny, purple party dresses to a white sun dress with little purple flowers. Matt and Stef worked out with the pastor what the service and vows would be. They picked out flowers. Other than that they simply threw a wedding.
The facebook invite included the following items over the course of a few weeks (from memory, not verbatim, but all true):
- Invite anyone you like, whether we know them or not. Everyone is welcome.
- Who can help set up? There should be some sort of an aisle to walk down, and some chairs would be nice.
- Pot luck reception; it would be great if everyone posted here what you're bringing (very few did)
Questions the invitees asked included:
- Exactly where (in this 351 acre park) is it?
- How should we dress? (answer I found out Stefanie had given at her shower: "Wear whatever you want. You might want to play in the creek or go kayaking afterward.")
Someone sat up on the rocks above where chairs and blankets were set up (with two, 15 foot ribbons marking the aisle) and played guitar and sang until the wedding started. The parties walked in more or less like in any wedding, but a lot more relaxed, pretty much at their own paces.
Dogs wandered through. Nobody cared.
It was Will Bibee's first wedding. You have to know Will; this is a pastor who's been known to bring a rubber chicken to church to make sure people don't get too religious. The dude is chill. But he was just nervous enough to ask. "Who gives this man to this woman?" (I went with it. "I do!" but I don't think anyone heard over the laughter.) Will stopped in the middle to tell some funny stories about Matt and Stef. He referenced the whole thing as a hippie wedding (it was, but the drug of choice was the love of God).
Everyone then carried their chairs and blankets a good hundred and fifty yards to where the tables were set up for the reception.
Nobody really knew what would be there. Nobody cared.
As we set the food out Sharon realized there were no cups. A total pot luck, and the only thing missing was cups? Awesome! I drove to the store and bought cups. When I returned, I found someone had showed up with cups right after I left (we brought lots of cups home; if you throw a wedding soon I can bring cups!) We ran out of meat just before the last half dozen people got their plates; more meat showed up two minutes later. We had plenty of everything.
Even cake... and they had not planned a wedding cake. There was cake left over.
Several people showed up late, missing the ceremony entirely (most because they were part of a conference this morning). Nobody cared.
If you like gala performances and spending what could have been a down payment on your house for a big party, a dress you'll wear once, and rented tuxedos, that's fine. Go with what works for you. But I highly recommend throwing a wedding. If you can go with no expectations, just being with friends and family and having a good time, it will be a blast.
God doesn't care. The state doesn't care. You don't have to care.
I've known JP weddings that resulted in wonderful lifetime marriages. Then there's all the money and media attention Charles and Diana had, and we know how well that worked out. Our culture has bought into this lie we have to spend a ton of money and have a fancy ceremony to have a wedding. All you really need is two people committing to one another, and hopefully some form of family and community to celebrate with you and support you. Everything else is optional.
"But what if I threw a wedding and nobody came through?"
Ah, but what if they did? That would be something, wouldn't it?
It was.
