A few weeks ago a friend and I drove to New England for the wedding of a beloved, long-time friend who was getting married for the third time. As we headed further and further north, we saw the changing landscape—the sturdy rock underlying everything, the woods with leaves ahead of ours in their brightening colors, the weighty feel of the historic all around us. I know now what I may not have known years ago--that there is no less love and hope and commitment in a marriage entered into in one’s later years, even though such non-romantic practicalities as health insurance coverage or social security might enter the picture. The wedding, set on the grounds of an estate with a house built in the 1700’s, took place by what looked to be an ancient, enormous tree. No country club—actually the original venue—could have surpassed the beauty of the gardens and stone walls and pathways of the spot, perfect for my nature-loving friend. The ceremony was a poignant mix of hysterically funny and vulnerable.

This Friday I will be going to the wedding of the best friend of one of my sons, whom I have known since the two met in kindergarten. He is loved by my family, a fourth son. This wedding will be the first for both the bride and the groom—with all of the excitement and hopes and dreams that come with that heady milestone. Even with the prevalence of living together before taking the big leap, the formal entering into of a committed life together—one with legal implications—feels life-changing. The next morning, nothing may look very changed, but in fact things will feel different, the difference being in how the newlyweds perceive themselves and also how others will perceive them. They will have entered into one of our culture’s most serious and important pacts—the one where two people agree to join together for the purpose of creating a new societal unit in which children might be raised.

One of the most underrated (sorry, Roger Ebert) movies I’ve ever seen, and one that continues to delight me, is Forces of Nature, which is basically about what happens when a fairly boring, predictable, and just about to be married guy, Ben Holmes (Ben Affleck), meets a fascinating, unpredictable, and about as footloose and fancy free as one can be girl, Sarah Lewis (played by Sandra Bullock in what would seem was a casting move where an actress who just kind of already embodies those qualities was selected…not to in any way to diminish her proven acting ability.) Their meeting sets into motion the necessity for Ben ultimately to make a choice between the delicious allure of the unknown—the path that leads into the dark woods of possible danger but also the excitement that comes with it—and on the other hand, the well-worn, more or less straight path of the convention of marriage. A freak accident on a plane and a hurricane that disconnects them from the usual forms of travel and communication force the unlikely duo to spend an extended amount of time together in very close quarters, often having to rely on each other to survive an increasingly bizarre array of scrapes and binds—some self-inflicted. Ben is trying to make his way to his wedding, where his increasingly unhinged bride to be waits for him, and Sarah is trying to make it back to her young son, whom she hasn’t seen in years.

At the end of their adventure together, and after having recognized the magic that has revealed itself over the course of it, they both arrive at the chaotic scene of Ben’s wedding, where everyone has been anxiously awaiting the groom’s arrival. Sarah waits behind the shrubs at the entrance to the bride’s home—a beautiful estate in Savannah, watching all of the wedding finery wildly flying and swirling every which way in the hurricane force wind and rain, while Ben gathers his courage to tell his fiancé and all of their guests that things have changed. Just before he sets off, he turns to Sarah. “Are you going to be here when I get back?” “You know me,” she responds. Ben answers quietly, “I would not presume.” And that, in a nutshell, is both the draw for him as well as the dilemma.

What I love about the movie is that Ben’s character opens himself up to the possibility of the unknown. He stretches. He seriously considers taking the path into the dark woods, knowing that doing so will most certainly incur the wrath of not only his fiancé, but society in general. Marriage, after all, is one of the, if not the most important building blocks of our society. We are rewarded—“showered” with not only good will, but actual physical goods—for upholding this tradition. And so while Ben may end up taking the well-worn path after all, he nonetheless will have been changed by his encounter with Sarah. Of course, Sarah has been changed as well, because a life of constant excitement and adventure simply does not leave room for the security of predictable routines that raising a child calls for, and it is that respect for what might seem boring but what is actually necessary that she has learned.

At the end of the movie Ben’s character quotes in a voiceover a passage from the writings of a 17th century Cleric of the Church of England, Jeremy Taylor:

“Marriage hath in it less of beauty but more of safety, than the single life; it hath more care, but less danger, it is more merry, and more sad; it is fuller of sorrows, and fuller of joys; it lies under more burdens, but it is supported by all the strengths of love and charity, and those burdens are delightful.”

Ironically, or maybe not so, the haunting song at the conclusion of Forces of Nature is “Fear” by Sara McLaughlin. Perhaps it just acknowledges that fear is present whether we take the sunlit, well-paved path of marriage or the path we forge ourselves, outside the boundaries of society. Either way, it’s the unknown. What I wish for my beloved friends—younger and older—who have chosen to take this path of marriage is this: Know that so many wish you a beautiful life together and are grateful for the respite of your celebration, your affirmation of love and hope, during this time of upheaval and cynicism and distrust and unease in the world. Thank you for this gift. We certainly need it.