Wedding Crashers

Last Saturday I had the privilege of attending a Gremanche wedding in one of Hassan’s villages. As one might expect, it was a totally different experience from a traditional American wedding. I can not say it was a traditional Gremanche wedding because traditionally marriage occurs without ceremony: a man chooses a bride, he pays the dowry, and then takes her home at the agreed upon time. But the church in this village has grown, and one of the members wanted to have a Christian wedding. This was to be the village’s first Christian wedding, which promised to be a different experience for villagers and visitors alike. It did not disappoint.

I rode to the service with Rodrigo, who would be giving the charge of marriage, Pastor Boube, who would be performing the ceremony, Juanita and two other pastors who would be translating. We arrived and greeted the groom, who could not be distinguished from the guests if you didn’t know otherwise. Upon our arrival the guests began to fill the thatched church and take seats on the logs and stumps used as pews. The drummers began to play an opening song and the whole church began to sing along.

After three songs, the bride was still nowhere to be found. I wasn’t concerned because it is normal in American weddings for the bride to make her grand appearance a little tardy. However, I could tell Hassan is beginning to wonder where she is. The translator goes out searching for her long enough for Rodrigo and I to wonder if there was going to be a wedding after all. In a few minutes he returns, saying, “Don’t worry, she’s coming. She’s just finishing grinding her millet!”

I bet no American girl’s fantasy of her wedding day involves pounding millet into grains. No, instead she’ll have bridesmaids to help her do her hair and makeup hours before the service. All will rise to greet her when she enters the sanctuary. Her pedicured feet will walk a path paved with rose petals to a pedestal where attendants will lift the train of her overflowing gown. Not so for this young Gremanche bride. The father had chores for her to finish because the next day she would belong to her husband and would prepare the grains for him.

When the bride finally arrived, the service could commence. After a couple more songs, Rodrigo preached and gave the marital charge. As Pastor Boube rose to begin the ceremony, the bride’s father made his first appearance. He didn’t take a seat, but started arguing with the groom. Rodrigo and I, who could not understand a word of the discussion, are looking at each other thinking this wedding is going to be cut short. Then, just as suddenly as he came, the father ran off, and nobody gave chase. I asked Hassan what the argument was about and he explained in between chuckles. “The bride’s mother has just recently given birth and is right now recovering. That’s why her parents aren’t here. The father just came to ask the groom for $50 so he could buy medicine for his wife. He said ‘You are part of the family now, it’s part of your responsibility.’” The service has not even begun and the father-in-law-to-be is asking the groom for money! The groom said he would discuss it after the service, once he was officially a part of the family.

The scene was such a stark contrast to the loving father who affectionately kisses his daughter on the cheek as he gives her hand to the groom. That father would nervously announce that it is he who gives this woman to be wed. He would then take his seat and observe with a mixture of pride and reluctance. He would have paid thousands of dollars for the ceremony and the celebration immediately following, and probably would not have asked the groom to help pay.

When the ceremony ended, the bride and groom walked their separate ways. The groom went to his house to prepare it for his bride who would arrive later that evening. The bride went to gather things to take to her new home. Later that afternoon we saw the groom at the village mill, talking to the neighbors. It was then that it struck me: their wedding day would pass almost like any other day. There would be no way of marking the significance of the day, aside from the simple ceremony of the morning. Immediately after life began to go on as normal, but for the newlyweds the standard of normal would never be the same.

Rodrigo, Juanita and I joked about it the whole way home. We joked because the wedding day was so insignificant compared to the significance of marriage. But, despite the seeming indifference with which the wedding was treated, I know that they place more importance on marriage than the day made it seem.  During the actual ceremony, you could see a full comprehension of the commitment on the faces of the bride and groom. Though the groom was 21 and the bride maybe 15, they knew as anyone who gets married the importance of that day. They didn’t need tuxedos and gowns, flowers and feasts to understand that life had forever changed. The commitment was its own commemoration. It was a commitment that was made for the first and last time, and no amount of celebration could add to or take away from its significance. In that regard, it was just as beautiful as any wedding I had ever attended.

“Do you not understand? That is all over. Among times there is a time that turns a corner and everything this side of it is new. Times do not go backward.”
“And can one little world like mine be the corner?”
“I do not understand. Corner with us is not the name of a size.”
C.S. Lewis, Perelandra