Wedding Part II: A Groom's Thoughts
I've always wondered what thoughts entered a groom's mind while standing at the altar watching his bride walk towards him. Some show no emotion, like all the cousins and second cousins in my family. Others start bawling like some of my friends. What would I do when my turn comes?
When I was younger I was always able to get out of situations that put me on the spot; I had never liked being the center of attention and I wasn't accustomed to it. It had always been someone else who caught everyone's attention, and so I would usually keep quiet and comfortably unnoticed. But there was no avoiding the spotlight this time around. So I just hoped for the best and strode forward behind the pastor with Goh, my best man, following. But I digress.
My first thought while standing at the altar was,
"Man, it's hot! I'm wearing a tux with a vest and 100 spotlights from the church are literally beaming down on me." How nice for a first thought. I watched the wedding party walk down the aisle and almost had to stifle a laugh; the junior bridesmaids were practically running down the aisle. What's the rush?
Then I saw Richel.
My first thoughts at that point require a bit of explanation to really appreciate their importance.
Our family never went to church and we were never preached to by priests or ministers or pastors on a regular basis. Sure, there was the occaisional wedding where some guy in robes would go on and on about God, but that was it. Some of my friends went to church, which I thought was a complete waste of time. After all, we were brought up with Buddhist customs and traditions.
Later on in life when I was in med school, I met people who later became good friends. One of the nicest people I've ever met, Jack, was always inviting me to attend one of his church functions. One Sunday he was going to sing at his church and I made it a point to attend and give him moral support.
While I sat there listening to the minister or pastor (gosh, I never knew you had to bring so much money to church - they must have passed that basket around 3 times) he spoke a lot about values, attitudes, and ideas that were already very similar to my own, a mentality that was instilled in me from good upbringing. From that time on, I would constantly have discussions with Jack about God and Christianity and what it was like to believe and have faith. But despite all of his explanations, I could never quite understand the whole religion thing. At one time he told me it wasn't about understanding or logic but about faith. Belief without understanding, reasoning, proof, or evidence; faith. It was a connection that I was unable to make, especially for a budding medical student.
As a medical students, resident, and attending, I have always been taught that everything must have good evidence in order for it to be valid. Randomized, placebo-controlled, prospective, multi-centered studies with a significant p-value; show me the proof, where is the evidence. Apply this to mindset to religion and everything falls apart. My biggest quandry was the contradiction between this mode of thinking as a doctor, and taking things on blind faith as a pious man. For years that followed I continued to have religious discussions with Jack, and I went to different churches with different people searching for the same faith they held so dearly and that I, too, wanted but could never find. But regardless of the church, the pastor, the priest, or the people I went to church with, I never "got" it. I saw people cry in church from joy in worshipping God. Again, a concept that I couldn't comprehend. Even during the times I went to church with Richel and she explained things to me, I still couldn't understand. But she believed and had faith, and I saw her love for it (which is one of the many things that I loved about her even though I, myself didn't believe). It wasn't a matter of choice, but of ability.
Like Fox Mulder "I wanted to believe," but no matter how hard I looked or searched I could never find what I was looking for.
That is until I was standing up at the altar, watching my wife-to-be walk towards me arm-in-arm with her brother. For that brief instant, as fleeting as that moment was, I finally understood what this whole God and Jesus thing was about and I experienced true faith. It was as if a light-bulb turned on. Unfortunately, it took so much power to turn this particular light on that it short-circuited and it burned out just as quickly. So it didn't last, but at least I finally experienced the joy of having faith and believing in God (maybe this is why some grooms cry).
But just as quickly as the lights dim and the darkness of night returns as Mulder watches a UFO disappear into the sky, I returned back to my old self, again.
"Alright everyone! Pray a little faster, will ya? We're running 30 minute late!"
When I was younger I was always able to get out of situations that put me on the spot; I had never liked being the center of attention and I wasn't accustomed to it. It had always been someone else who caught everyone's attention, and so I would usually keep quiet and comfortably unnoticed. But there was no avoiding the spotlight this time around. So I just hoped for the best and strode forward behind the pastor with Goh, my best man, following. But I digress.
My first thought while standing at the altar was,
"Man, it's hot! I'm wearing a tux with a vest and 100 spotlights from the church are literally beaming down on me." How nice for a first thought. I watched the wedding party walk down the aisle and almost had to stifle a laugh; the junior bridesmaids were practically running down the aisle. What's the rush?
Then I saw Richel.
My first thoughts at that point require a bit of explanation to really appreciate their importance.
Our family never went to church and we were never preached to by priests or ministers or pastors on a regular basis. Sure, there was the occaisional wedding where some guy in robes would go on and on about God, but that was it. Some of my friends went to church, which I thought was a complete waste of time. After all, we were brought up with Buddhist customs and traditions.
Later on in life when I was in med school, I met people who later became good friends. One of the nicest people I've ever met, Jack, was always inviting me to attend one of his church functions. One Sunday he was going to sing at his church and I made it a point to attend and give him moral support.
While I sat there listening to the minister or pastor (gosh, I never knew you had to bring so much money to church - they must have passed that basket around 3 times) he spoke a lot about values, attitudes, and ideas that were already very similar to my own, a mentality that was instilled in me from good upbringing. From that time on, I would constantly have discussions with Jack about God and Christianity and what it was like to believe and have faith. But despite all of his explanations, I could never quite understand the whole religion thing. At one time he told me it wasn't about understanding or logic but about faith. Belief without understanding, reasoning, proof, or evidence; faith. It was a connection that I was unable to make, especially for a budding medical student.
As a medical students, resident, and attending, I have always been taught that everything must have good evidence in order for it to be valid. Randomized, placebo-controlled, prospective, multi-centered studies with a significant p-value; show me the proof, where is the evidence. Apply this to mindset to religion and everything falls apart. My biggest quandry was the contradiction between this mode of thinking as a doctor, and taking things on blind faith as a pious man. For years that followed I continued to have religious discussions with Jack, and I went to different churches with different people searching for the same faith they held so dearly and that I, too, wanted but could never find. But regardless of the church, the pastor, the priest, or the people I went to church with, I never "got" it. I saw people cry in church from joy in worshipping God. Again, a concept that I couldn't comprehend. Even during the times I went to church with Richel and she explained things to me, I still couldn't understand. But she believed and had faith, and I saw her love for it (which is one of the many things that I loved about her even though I, myself didn't believe). It wasn't a matter of choice, but of ability.
Like Fox Mulder "I wanted to believe," but no matter how hard I looked or searched I could never find what I was looking for.
That is until I was standing up at the altar, watching my wife-to-be walk towards me arm-in-arm with her brother. For that brief instant, as fleeting as that moment was, I finally understood what this whole God and Jesus thing was about and I experienced true faith. It was as if a light-bulb turned on. Unfortunately, it took so much power to turn this particular light on that it short-circuited and it burned out just as quickly. So it didn't last, but at least I finally experienced the joy of having faith and believing in God (maybe this is why some grooms cry).
But just as quickly as the lights dim and the darkness of night returns as Mulder watches a UFO disappear into the sky, I returned back to my old self, again.
"Alright everyone! Pray a little faster, will ya? We're running 30 minute late!"
posted by V-Hume at 10:54 PM
5 Comments:
aww, come on. why did you have to kill the moment?
alright Vince, you almost made me cry. My eyes were quickly gathering moisture, and just when they threatened to overflow, they went away!! HUH?! What kind of story was that?
Then I've conveyed my thoughts and experience successfully.
It's actually a sad story. If anything, I would expect someone to cry at the end of it rather than somewhere in the middle. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be sad in a boohoo sad way, or sad as in a pathetic way. Because the end once again just emphasizes my ineptitude for religion. Like, didn't you ever feel sorry for Mulder when he couldn't find the UFO? Same thing going on here. Look beyond the words.
This comment has been removed by the author.
I felt similarly at my wedding. On the altar I was calm, cool, collected. No emotion, not even on video. Julie complained I was stone-faced, Vulcan-like (not her words exactly). Quite logical though.
But there's something about seeing your soon-to-be-wife all dressed up in a wedding gown, walking towards you. I felt elated as I watched her during the procession, but I wouldn't say it was faith. Happy contentment and shear joy are more appropriate words to describe it.
I don't think its an ineptitude for religion. We just never grew up believing. And of course our illustrious older brother has had a lot to do with our views, particularly when it comes to logical thinking and proof. If he was religious, who knows how we would've turned out. Its not that we don't want to or that we lack the intelligence for it. We just find it hard to have blind faith in certain things, and religion is one of them.
Post a Comment
<< Home