I’ve often thought the group we gather for a wedding to be odd, unusual, and never repeated, except maybe at a funeral. Some family, lots of friends, a few people we don’t know all that well–co-workers, a church elder, our childhood Sunday school teacher.
Many times, guests don’t know each other. Singles come alone, hoping to encounter their own future spouse. Most of our friends don’t know our families unless grew up in a small town and got married young. Maybe other cultures pull together a more homogeneous mix, but in America, it’s usually a unusual gathering.
This morning I saw a post on Facebook from a “friend” who I can’t recall ever befriending in person. Like those who gather for a wedding, Facebook is an odd group. Five hundred million people from all corners of the world, inviting each other into various groupings to post on each other’s “wall.”
At a wedding, we’re in our silk and wool, smiles at hand for our seatmates, small talk stored in readiness. On Facebook, we’re casual. Nobody sees. We can participate or not and nobody thinks the worse of us if we’re silent for long periods of time.
Though we can dress down on Facebook, and small talk is prevalent, we’re more likely to speak our hearts—whether truth or compassion.
And unlike the brief gathering of wedding guests, Facebook endures. In that longevity and intimacy, it’s more like the coming marriage supper of the Lamb than any wedding we’ve attended.
That party will be Jesus’ peculiar bride, gathered. I doubt we’ll talk about the weather. We’ll ask each other: “How did you meet the groom?” “What’s the best talk you’ve ever had with him?” “Can you believe we’re really here?”
Forever will not be too long for that party.
Jesus, we are watching for our invitations. Come at the right time, in the right way, as you always do.