Why Do We Marry?

Why do we marry?”

Beau gave me a quizzical look in the rear-view mirror as he maneuvered our grey Hyundai Sonata on a serpentine road. We were on our way to Jess and Graham’s wedding at a vineyard near Charlottesville, VA. Being sleep deprived after a long overnight journey, I was in a state ideal for languid philosophy.

“No,” I continued, “I mean… why did society decide to create the institution of marriage? Why couldn’t two people just… BE… together and leave it at that? No legal stuff. No ceremony. No nothing.” Calvin, who sat beside Beau in the front seat, rolled his eyes at my asinine burbling.

Beau, Graham’s best man, is a brilliant physician, but sometimes I suspect that he missed out on an extraordinary career as a pastor. He speaks with a reassuring smile, the visual equivalent of a shoulder massage, and his words snap between somber and slapstick with ease. The sincerity of his attention can make you think that you’re the most captivating speaker since Winston Churchill.

Before we started the car trip, Beau sat Graham down in a chair and asked all six groomsmen to lay their right hands on him and offer prayers for his married life. My diet of bawdy romantic-comedies had convinced me that groomsmen are single-mindedly dedicated to alcohol-drenched quests for the affections of unhitched bridesmaids. Instead, we were celebrating Graham’s enduring commitment to Jess.

And their commitment was certainly worth celebrating. Jess and Graham met over a dinner at Beau’s home to which neither of them was originally invited. Jess, an uncommonly lovable Mathematics teacher, had come to Charlottesville just as Graham was spreading his wings to take flight after finishing medical school. Fly he did, but he left his heart in her custody.

“Distance makes hearts look elsewhere,” I used to say. Not so for Jess and Graham. They talked daily, listening keenly to each other. No detail was too minute for their conversations- the hospital cafeteria’s lunch menu, the number of minutes Graham ran, and the foibles of Jess’s students were all fair game. As they studied the nuances of each other’s beings, their love deepened. Being Graham’s roommate, I often came home to find them having dinner together, their eyes glittering with joy as they surveyed each other through the screens of their iPads. My cynicism melted away and I was not surprised when Graham began looking for a ring.

In the last mile of our journey to the vineyard, the gravel pelted the chassis and created a dull roar. Beau responded to my question, pausing frequently to select his words carefully. His first premise was that man was made in the image of God. His second premise was that God clearly wanted to have a relationship with man. His conclusion was that, like god, we humans also have an elemental desire for a special relationship, which we fulfill through marriage. The reasoning was elegant. Not having Beau’s gift of faith, however, my agnostic soul still searched for other answers.

I thought back to the prayers we had said for Graham earlier. We each had our outstretched arm on Graham’s shoulders. From above, he would have looked like the fulcrum of a wheel and our arms would be the spokes. Love flowed from the peripheries of this human wheel to the centre. Though our eyes—blue, brown, and green― were of different colors, they were all identically aglow with affection for Graham. Through our shared devotion to our friend in that moment, we had forged new bonds with each other. Our little wheel had transmuted into a network.

I began to wonder if marriage strengthens the social fabric by bringing communities together in support of the bride and groom. A loving community forms around the couple and because of the couple. The blessing of this community sustains the couple in good times and bad. Perhaps that is why we marry. With this nascent theory in mind, I clambered out of the car and beheld the undulating green hills of the winery we had reached.

Before long, we beheld the couple as they faced each other. Their faces were lit with nervous excitement and wet with teary laughter. Even perfect couples like Jess and Graham are subject to Murphy’s law. The microphones were silenced by an technical snafu. Bereft of electricity, the ceremony took on an ancient feel. The timbre of the un-amplified violin struck a chord deep within me. We listened with rapt attention as the officiant’s words jostled with the wind to get to our ears. It was like being in a sepia-tinted wedding photograph… and not the ones fabricated by Instagram filters.

Even the phenomenally phlegmatic Calvin sniffed through the hymn that Jess and Graham had chosen for the ceremony. I somehow contained my tears until I heard the gentle tremble in Jess’s voice as she began her vow. A gust of love circulated in our little congregation. The breeze picked up. I saw the groomsmen’s suit jackets; the bridesmaids’ sky-blue dresses; and the hair of the seated guests dance in unison.