A Quaker wedding is beautiful. Usually I cry; mostly I smile. Have you been to one? I sense God crouches a bit closer to us miscreants during a wedding. Thankfully, Quakers allow space and time to hear the Lifegiver’s whispers and sometimes we glean wisdom of how to live our lives.

I went to a stunning wedding on Saturday. Priscilla, a thoroughbred Quaker, got married to James, who was raised Jewish. “Welcome to our wedding!” they wrote in the program. “we’ve blended several Jewish and Quaker traditions.” There was no pastor or rabbi to join them, God had spoken to their hearts and that is enough to bind them.

Friends recognize the joining of a couple during an appointed meeting for worship where all voices approved (some loosely call this consensus). At every point of the journey Friends check with all those gathered to ask, “Is there where Spirit wants us to be? Did you contribute your truth so that we have a full picture of the Divine Will?”

At this wedding, about 150 Friends gathered on wooden benches with horsehair cushions.  The seating was in a wide rectangle. At front were 4 friends who were selected to support the wedding. On one side was the wedding certificate or ketubah, a declaration of their vows.

The Meeting began in silence. It was a vibrant silence, the air buzzed with hopes and ponderings. Aptly, Friends call this expectant waiting. After we settled ourselves, the couple walked in together. (No one gives the bride away.)  They walked down the middle of the group and sat under a chuppah, the Jewish wedding canopy. More excitement filled the room as we thought of the past and the couple’s future. Soon they stood up, facing each other, Priscilla repositioning her trail and flowers. James jostling a box holding a ring into his pocket. They held hands. Then they spoke their vows in Hebrew. Basically the vows said: “Behold, by this ring you are consecrated to me as my spouse according to the laws of Moses and Israel.” The other replies: “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” I was lost at sea not at all familiar with what is being said in Hebrew. Then James’ father stands up and reads the wedding certificate which says, “On this day July 28 at the Friends Meeting in Cambridge James and Priscilla took each other by the hand, promising to be loving and faithful companions.”

Priscilla had sewn parts of her dress, a checkered yarmulke and matching tie for James, and an embroidered stunning chuppah.

Then the group sinks down deep. ‘Deep answers deep’ angling into the heart of life. George Keith in the 17th century describes worship this way, “the life and light of God…spring up in them (or us)…uniting in one even as many small streams become as a large river of life, which in the wholeness of it, hath its course, motion and operation, in and through every member.” First a mother spoke lovingly of how blessed she felt by the courtship and having James in her family. Others spoke. Family members echoed how they came to know the fiancée and how well they fit together. The radiance of the couple diffused all about. Different friends spoke of marriage, how to keep the channels of love open, how interdependent we all are, and how we are ready to help the new couple. Someone said a prayer in Hebrew. “What a blessing, this union blesses us all.”

A child clamored against his Dad, I heard faintly the toddler’s rabbit-like chatter. Priscilla has taught school and worked with youth. I had a vision of children being a central part of this marriage. The presence of their future children floated amongst us like milkweed feathers. I said a prayer. At this time we are all witnesses. The witnesses are more than those physically here, we can sense the presence of Priscilla’s dad who died recently, or grandparents who have passed on. in a real way we sense them and what blessing they would add. Elise Boulding speaks of the 150 year now. Those oldest people hear may remember clearly back to 1940. They know of the lessons of WWII and computers and cable TV, birth control, AIDS and the UN. The young ones among us, maybe born near 2000 may live until 2080. They carry into the future the understanding that the eldest give of the past. The past is real to children as much as it is embodied by their elders.

The joining of 2 separate people is ephemeral. The spirits are united, a bond stronger than epoxy.  On many levels the wedding itself is a moment out of space and time. The worship is timeless. We are also linked to those who have passed on and to the yet-to-be-born children. We breathe the same air they breathe. And what we do here to affirm that love reigns is to know that we are living to the best of our ability to honor them.

The promise of love appears to be these 2 people, James and Priscilla. But it is a chance for each of us. It’s a leveling field when for the moment each of us can turn our hearts back to a fresh promise to again love and cherish each other until death do us part. Thank you Heavenly zephyrs.

Quaker Isaac Penington says worship is like “a heap of fresh and living coals, warming one another, insomuch as a great strength, freshness, and vigor of life flows into all.”