Believing in the Bride and Groom

It was a great adventure and delight to serve as officiant at the wedding of Anne and Aaron this past August. Anne and her family are dear friends of my family for many years.

The bride was beautiful, the groom handsome, and both of their families were celebrating these two as they made their vows and committed their lives to each other. They are mad for each other and it is easy to believe in their love.

I think it is honorable to just disappear with your sweetheart, elope and get married on your own, but families are usually so eager to celebrate the occasion. While a wedding can be an experience of a lifetime for the couple, also it can be a deeply meaningful experience for the families. It can be a crucible where memory is evoked, kinship ties are felt more deeply, and aches and longings of the heart are more poignant for everyone. The hunger for relationship can be vivid, and our loneliness sharpened at such times.

During these days of the wedding preparation and celebration, the bride and groom, being at the center of the spectacle as they are, have more power than they usually have to encourage and bless (small "b") others, I think. And these blessings can fall on and nourish the recipients like spring rain on hungry dry ground.

There is a beloved old Irish folk song, the Kerry Dance, with the lyrics,

Was there a sweeter Colleen in the dance than Eily More, Or a prouder lad than Thady as he boldly took the floor?

In this case, both the bride and groom probably have sweetness, pride and boldness in equal measure, as they should. It is a sweet honor and delight to behold the lovers, remembering and reliving our own loves, perhaps shedding a tear at the passing of time and our losses, and shining our smiles of belief and celebration back toward the couple.

© 2010 Cristopher Anderson

All Rights Reserved

Playing for Open Hearts

My dear friend and fellow fiddler Ruth joined me to play at the funeral service for the mother of a friend of a friend a few weeks ago. Ruth has a open stout heart I trust, and I love her harmonies.

We could see the spire of the old country church above the July tall cornfields south of Minneapolis. A rainstorm had gone through the night before and washed everything fresh, making the air moist. Everything green seemed to be breathing deep breaths.

It was an honor to be in the presence of the dignity and deep feeling as the minister led the service outside at graveside, and family members spoke to their memories of their beloved mother, aunt and mother-in-law.

We started the service with three Swedish folk tunes as people were settling into chairs that had been set up on the grass. Their mother was Swedish, and her family members had farmed nearby and were some of the founders of the church.

I ventured a poignant Finnish funeral march I love at a moment in the middle of the service, and then Ruth and I finished up with a florid Swedish tune, the harmonies twining around each other.

Then, we went ahead, down to the church basement, and played another set of folk tunes in front of the piano as family and friends came down for the lunch that was prepared.

Afterward, the son who asked us to be there said we were “the glue that held it all together.” Another man came up to us at the lunch and said our playing and the setting reminded him of the film, Sweet Land. If you haven't seen this film, you are in for a real treat. It is a beloved first feature from Minnesota director Ali Selim. I've seen it three times and I'd go back again.

Again, it was an utter honor to be in the presence of such dignity and tenderness, and to serve at these moments of family transition and meaning. For the musician, it is a treat to play for the love of the music to such tender hearts.