2
'Til Debt Do Us Part
"My parents are acting like we're kids,"
Laura complained, her dark eyes snapping with indignation. "They need to
back off and let us make our own decisions!"
Laura and her fiancée,
Larry, plan to be married next spring. They are both 26, just out of graduate
school and beginning career-
level jobs, Laura as a high school art teacher and Larry in
advertising. Long before he slipped a one-carat diamond engagement
ring on her finger less than two weeks ago, they knew that within three years
of their marriage they wanted to buy a house, have a
baby, and begin a home‑based design business. They also knew that a major
goal was to free up their weekends to take on the responsibility of running
their church youth group, a ministry that badly needs their youth, energy and
commitment. BUT ‑‑here's the rub‑‑they also have
their hearts set on a big wedding. Laura envisions stargazer lilies‑‑lots
of stargazer lilies‑‑and a horse-drawn carriage to carry
them away from the church in style. Larry is talking tuxedos with tails and
romantic ten-day
cruises.
"We've been together practically since the
beginning of college," he said, a touch defensively. "That's almost
seven years. We deserve a big wedding just for our astounding longevity!"
"We're really not materialistic people,"
Laura added. "For both of us, family comes first. But this is something
that means a lot to us. My parents don't have a clue why it's so
important."
Not long ago, Laura's father tried to suggest that
planning a $20,000 wedding doesn't make a whole lot of sense when you don't
actually have $20,000. He reminded them of their goals and suggested
that if they continue opting for an extravaganza they may have to put those
aims on the back burner. Nonetheless, in less than two weeks, they have managed
to:
‑‑Place a $1,000
deposit on a reception for 350 guests in the ballroom of a stately historic
mansion.
‑‑Begin moonlighting on weekends, Laura
cashiering at a discount store and Larry delivering
pizzas.
‑‑Write a "subtle" letter to
Laura's grandmother in Florida announcing their engagement,
in hopes of garnering a contribution to the wedding fund.
‑‑Wheedle $6,000 out of Laura's parents,
who still have a son in college, and an
additional $1,000
out of Larry's mother, a widow who works for minimum wage.
‑‑Amass an impressive collection of slick
travel brochures for cruises in the Gulf of Mexico.
At first glance you might be tempted to say, "So
what? They're young‑‑they'll buy the house, start the business, and
have the baby later"‑‑all of which is quite true. They
certainly have plenty of time to do all of those things and more. But probe a
little deeper and see if you don't touch a sensitive
nerve.
Ouch! Thought so.
All of these seemingly harmless wedding plans are
clouding some very serious spiritual issues, including financial stewardship,
long‑term goals, the use of time, and even what is morally right to
expect from your parents and relatives. But like so many well‑intentioned
couples, Laura and Larry have never given a thought to the spiritual
implications of their choices.
It's not that they are essentially superficial,
mercenary or self‑absorbed people. Laura was right when she said they
normally give rampant, competitive consumerism a wide berth. But they are crazy
in love, excited about the future and so caught up in the thrill of their new
status as an engaged couple that they haven't stopped to think clearly. They
know full well that they are about to embark upon a serious, lifelong
commitment, but in a way, it is this very understanding that
makes them feel so driven to do everything on a grand scale. With only one shot
at it, they figure they have to get it "right."
You may be feeling much the same way. Getting married
is fun and exciting. You're suddenly the center of so much attention and so
many questions. Are you having a sit‑down dinner or a buffet? How many
bridesmaids will there be? Have you decided where to go on your honeymoon?
Decisions and possibilities whirl through your mind like painted ponies on a
brightly lit carousel. But lose sight of
the brass ring for even a single moment,
and you could wind up seriously compromising the very things you want most‑‑a
home, a family, and the peace of mind that comes
from being true to your core beliefs and goals.
After they pay for their rings, wedding and honeymoon, Laura and Larry will have spent slightly less
than half their combined income for a year, including the money they will have
made moonlighting. After such a major outlay of cash there is no way they can begin to think seriously about buying a
home, having a baby, or beginning a business. Although they say they expect to
pay cash for almost everything they buy for the wedding, it will still take
them at least five years to recoup what they have spent‑‑which in
essence means that they will be "paying" for their wedding and
honeymoon for half a decade!
Substance Abuse
The prophet Isaiah asks, “Why do you spend your money for
that which is not bread, and your labor
for that which does not satisfy?" (Isaiah 55:2) Down through the ages the
question echoes ‑‑ancient, urgent and wise. Consider it
carefully before you get entangled in one of the many moving parts of the
Wedding Machine. Do you really want to spend all that you have, and much of
what you don't yet have, on things of no substance? Before you answer, be sure
to think hard about the concept of substance. At first glance it would seem to
apply only to nondurable goods, or cheap gimmicky junk, which of course you
have no intention of buying for your wedding. But even the handmade, museum‑quality,
moiré guest book with the exquisite satin roses has no substance for you
if to buy it you sacrifice something of far greater value.
Beautiful objects do indeed delight the eye and feed
the soul, but you must ask yourself, will they still warm your heart twenty‑five
years from now? How about next year, when
the wedding and the honeymoon are over and the Princess Bride has vanished into
the ether, leaving in her place a woman who yearns to hold her first child and
close the door of her own house when the day is done? Perhaps the guest book
from the card shop at the mall is pretty enough after all. Though most brides
cherish wedding memories, all agree that once the party is over and they return
from their honeymoon to "join the real world,"
the importance of moiré guest books
fades faster than the dye in the bridesmaids’
shoes.
A survey conducted by Bride's magazine reported that a full 73 percent of all
engaged couples say they expect money to be a major problem in their married
lives. Yet that belief doesn't stop them from going so far as to take out loans
to pay for their weddings. Since couples are older when they marry these days‑‑in
1990 the median age was 23.9 for first-time brides and 26.3 for grooms1‑‑many
pay for all, or most, of their weddings themselves. Even when parents agree to
pay the lion's share, many couples chip in for the simple reason that their
wants outstrip their parents' ability to pay. Despite climbing housing costs,
car payments on their first new vehicles and, very often, debt
from college loans, couples willingly step out
on a shaky financial limb to breathe life into fantasies that have no more
substance than gossamer clouds.
According to a national study by Nellie Mae, the
country's largest nonprofit provider of college loans, the average new college
graduate's debt has more than doubled in the past six years as
a result of higher tuition and a shift in aid from grants that don't have to be paid back to loans that do. With the average college loan hovering
at $18,000, some couples find it necessary to delay marriage altogether.
Even if you are one of the lucky ones who aren't going
to begin married life with huge built‑in debt, think through your short‑term
goals before you set a budget for your simply beautiful wedding. It's
impossible to decide how much you want to spend until you figure out how much
you realistically can spend without jeopardizing your goals and values.
Remember, this is your first major joint decision as a couple. How well you
make it‑‑and honor it‑‑can set the tone for your future
financial transactions. Remember, too, that the very retailers who are enticing
you with wedding finery and household goods understand this very well.2
They know that if they can kindle a spark of acquisitiveness right now at this
vulnerable juncture in your lives, there is a very good chance it will burst
into the Eternal Flame and keep you spending, and spending, and spending.
Emotion in Motion
As crucial as
logic and determination are in making wise fiscal choices, you also need to
bear in mind the fact that the path to the altar is littered with as many good
intentions as it is rose petals. Countless couples start out with a realistic
vision, only to trip over the biggest
stumbling block of all‑‑sentiment. If cultural myth and consumerism
drive the Wedding Machine, then sentiment sits in the passenger seat playing
Motown on the radio and reading the road map! With one thumb firmly on the
nostalgic past and the other on the shining future, it knows exactly how to
manipulate your emotions. Faster than you can say freesia, nostalgia and
idealism can kick into high gear, leaving you feeling as though your wedding
must conform to a set of standards based more on sentiment than on reason.
One young bride told the story of going with her
mother and future mother‑in‑law to try on wedding gowns. She had
done her homework, knew the price of a moderate gown,
and was determined to stick to it. But when she got to the salon, she
immediately spotted a dress reminiscent of the one her grandmother had worn in
1949‑‑same sweetheart neckline, same heavy satin, same cathedral
train‑‑and knew she "had to have it," even though it cost
three times what she had planned to spend.
"It's like my brain shut off," she admitted,
a year later. "All of a sudden it was the most important thing in the
world. Even my mom got into it. Gram's gown had been lost in a fire and we
thought she'd get a kick out of me getting one almost just like it. All we
could talk about was how great the two portraits of us would look hanging side
by side on the wall."
In retrospect, she wishes she had not ordered any
dress at all that day.
"When you're feeling frantic to have something, that's when you shouldn't spend a penny,"
she said with a wry grin. "We should have gone home and thought it over.
I'll bet anything we would have either bought a less expensive dress with some
of the same features somewhere else, or maybe looked into having one made. I
know we wouldn't have spent that kind of money. How much we love Gram had
absolutely nothing to do with me having that particular gown, gorgeous though
it was. We just went temporarily crazy! If only I could have that money back I
could get decent living room furniture. .
. ."
As you can see, couples aren't the only ones whose
emotions are at risk when it comes to wedding shopping. Parents, too, fall prey
to the nostalgia trap, particularly when they see that their children have
their hearts set on something. Perhaps they had a huge wedding themselves and
want to give their daughter the same experience. Or more likely, they didn't
have all the bells and whistles at their own weddings and are determined to
make up for what they lacked by giving it to their child. Either way, when
faced with a daughter whose face is shining like a newly minted silver dollar,
it's difficult for moms and dads to say no, especially when sentiment whispers
such heart‑tugging lines as:
"She'll never be your little girl again,"
"It seems like only yesterday. .
."
"She's dreamed of this all her life. How can you
disappoint her?"
If parents have the money to indulge their children's
wedding fantasies and choose of their own volition to do so,
that's one thing, but the fact is, many do
not have the deep pockets you may believe they have. Weddings tend to crop up
at a most inopportune time in parents' lives‑‑the juncture between
their children's college education and their own retirement. This is when most
middle‑aged couples realize that if they hope to ensure a secure future for
themselves they need to play catch‑up. For so many years their children's
needs took every spare penny. Now, finally, they are at a point where it may be
possible to make up for lost time, and
then‑‑wham‑‑wedding debt looms on the horizon like the
four horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Before you even sit down to talk with your parents
about the possibility of a contribution to your wedding fund, consider their
long‑term needs. Not only will it keep you from requesting more than they
can comfortably give, but it will also help you put a check on sentiment before
they unwittingly get swept away in a tide of tender feelings for you. Putting
someone else's needs ahead of your own wants is never easy to do, and it is
especially difficult when you stand on the brink of such an exciting adventure.
Bridal shows, books and magazines bombard you with tantalizing images, your
engaged friends rhapsodize over fondant‑draped cakes with three‑dimensional
sugar pansies and raspberry filling, and here you are being asked to make a
tough decision.
But if you make the choice to act with love, you will reap dividends that will continue
long after the party is over and the last slice of (expensive) cake is gone.
Choosing love over even the most deeply cherished fantasies demonstrates a
maturity that will serve you well in the years to come,
when you are asked again and again to put your spouse or your children first.
It also gives you an opportunity to give your parents a priceless gift and sets
the tone for a more relaxed and loving engagement and wedding.
Those Wicked Little Wants
But letting your parents off the financial hook is
only half the battle. There still comes a point at
which you have to grapple with how much you money you think you
need. Just because you recognize that Mom and Dad can't afford to book
the country club for a Saturday night in June doesn't automatically mean you
have a complete handle on the money issue. The "wants" have a nasty
way of cropping up in other ways and making you feel as though it is perfectly
okay to do things you wouldn't normally dream of doing. This doesn't just mean
taking out loans, or moonlighting, or selling your piano to raise cash‑‑it
means literally going begging.
Laura and Larry brushed up against this when they
decided to write the "engagement announcement" letter to Laura's
grandmother in Florida. Though they were by no means overt about asking for a
handout, they both knew deep down that the purpose of the letter was more
monetary than celebratory. To justify
sending it, they assured themselves that Grandma had
plenty of money and would actually welcome the opportunity to write them a
hefty check. Perhaps they were even right
about that. Wealthy grandparents very often do want to share the goodies and
pamper their grandchildren a bit. But is it fair to expect them to? Is it a
loving act to view them as a vehicle that can be ever‑so‑subtly
manipulated for profit?
Laura and Larry's letter may seem rather minor
compared to what some couples have resorted to,
and in a way, it is. But where do you draw the line? How different are they
really in spirit from the couple who unwittingly wound up in Ann Landers's column not long ago? A woman wrote to Ann
saying that she had received a mass mailing from friends flat‑out asking
for a donation to help cover wedding costs. It arrived complete with a return
envelope and a section to detach and send back showing the amount of the
donation. The recipient was so appalled she wasn't sure how to respond.
"The expenses involved are overwhelming and we
humbly request your help," the letter writers implored. "We ask that
each of you dig into your hearts and graciously assist us with whatever
financial contribution you can make. .
."
Dig into your hearts? We won't even go there‑‑it's
not a pretty image. But esthetics aside, the request clearly sugarcoats a deep‑rooted
sense of entitlement with such upstanding words as "humbly" and
"graciously." You can wrap it up in silver foil and trim it with
satin bows, but the fact is, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck,
underneath all the glitter it's still a duck.
Obviously, the letter writers felt entitled to
something they couldn't have and felt justified in taking measures that very likely ran amok of their
own value system. Of course you wouldn't resort to anything so tacky yourself,
but whether or not you would actually send such a letter may be less important
than the feelings that generated it. As
long as you share those feelings and allow them to rule you, your wedding plans
are guaranteed to be fraught with anger, anxiety and ungratefulness.
Play the Flip Side
"But what I can I do about it?" one bride
asked. "I can't help the way I feel, can I?"
You may not be able to keep the feelings from cropping
up, but you can certainly choose to change them when they do. Happiness is
always a choice. It doesn't fly around like the proverbial bluebird, swooping
willy‑nilly past one person and landing gracefully on the shoulder of
another. You have to choose it, especially when things are not exactly to your
liking.
For at least a decade, social scientists have
conducted studies that aimed to predict
how much money people need to be happy. The surprising upshot is that more
money does not equal more happiness. What researchers found is that we need
enough money to meet our basic survival needs,
plus a little extra left over for
pleasure.5 Once that ideal is reached, our happiness quotient does
not rise, regardless of how much our net worth does. Certainly, more money can
give you a temporary high, but scientists have discovered that the euphoria
lasts for no more than about three weeks at best. Only when you are starving,
freezing, or in dire need of something crucial such as medical care will the
sudden acquisition of more money contribute to your overall sense of well‑being
in the long run. Happiness, the studies
point out, is much more strongly tied to family life, interpersonal
relationships and work than it is to money.
So even if you won one of the numerous contests that offer a free wedding as the grand prize,
there is no guarantee that you would be any happier than you are with the
budget you have now. For one thing, the more money you spend, the higher your
anxiety rises. What if a storm blows up, topples the white tent, and sends masses of freesia and roses flying
through the air like litter in a fast‑food restaurant parking lot? What
if the middle tier of the handpainted cake gives way while you are cutting it?
What if the flower girl spills Coke all over her designer dress five minutes
before the organ begins to play "The Wedding March”?
The more money there is at stake, the harder it is to laugh at wedding
disasters‑‑and also, the harder it is to relax and allow the day to
unfold.
As one wedding consultant put it, "I never saw a
moderate wedding turn into a disaster. Sure wish I could say that about some of
the high‑end ones."
More money can also create problems you might never
have even considered. One couple shared just such an unhappy experience. While
shopping for a reception hall they discovered a wonderful facility that had two
rooms‑‑a large one that accommodated up to 250 people, and a smaller one that comfortably held 130.
Since they expected to invite only 125 guests,
the second room seemed made to order‑‑except for one catch. The
larger room offered a breathtaking lake vista and the smaller room faced the road. To book the room with the view they had to guarantee payment
for 175 meals‑‑50 more than would ever be eaten even if everyone
showed up. No way could they consider it. But not long after they reluctantly
placed a deposit on the roadside space, the groom's uncle agreed to make up the
difference for the large room as his gift to the couple. They were elated.
"Until the wedding, that is," the bride said
ruefully. "It was a disaster. We had 100 guests actually attend and they
were swallowed up in such an enormous space. There was no sense of intimacy at
all. Hardly anybody danced and by ten o'clock the party was pretty much over.”
A second point to consider is that despite what a consumer
society would have you believe, the Beatles had it right back in the 60s when
they sang "Money can't buy me love. .
."3 As researcher Michael Argyle points out,
"the happiness people derive from consumption is based on whether they
consume more than their neighbors, or more than they did in the past."4
Richard A. Easterlin, an economist at the University of Southern California,
concurs. Money can buy happiness, he concludes, but only if the amounts keep
getting bigger and other people aren't getting more.6 The bottom
line is, we feel well off if we have more than our peers, and poor if we have
less.
Consumerism also leads you to begin to viewing people
as commodities, much as Laura and Larry did when they wrote the letter to her
grandmother, and lessens your appreciation of what you do have. How can you
truly experience the special joy of your engagement, or take deep delight in
the surprise shower your sorority sisters throw,
when you are obsessed with the fact that you can't afford to hire a live band?
What's more, a bad case of consumeritis can make you feel like you have to
outshine every wedding you've ever been to‑‑when the truth is that
no matter how unique or spectacular your taste, ideas, and budget, there will always be someone who does it bigger. After
watching a television program about movie
stars' weddings, one young bride felt
driven to decorate the backs of every dinner guest's chair with a cascade of
fresh flowers and ribbons.
"It cost a fortune. A foooooor‑tune!"
she groaned. "I couldn't really afford it, but I did it anyway. And then
no sooner did the credit card bill come in than I went to a friend's wedding
and she did the same thing using inexpensive baskets and flowers from her
aunt's garden. It cost her like an eighth of what I paid‑‑and am
still paying for‑‑and hers looked every bit as good as mine had, or
at least good enough!"
The key to feeling satisfied with the situation in
which you find yourself is to take the word ungrateful,
flip it over‑‑and find gratitude. Begin with a prayer of
thanksgiving for the miracle and blessing of love. Then follow with one for the
gift of creativity‑‑something all of us have but few fully use.
Couples who tap into their creativity very often get
what they want (or a reasonable facsimile of it)
without breaking the bank. The idea is not to find ways to take advantage of
anyone, but rather to use your ingenuity to create something wonderful. One of
the most creative wedding stories is told by a young couple from Massachusetts
who pulled off an unusual and beautiful celebration with a minuscule budget‑‑slightly
more than one-tenth of the national
average. With so little cash, it would
seem impossible to reach their twin goals‑‑elegance and an
abundance of friends and family‑‑but they did it by breaking their
wedding day into components, rather than seeing it as a unified whole.
As a brilliant gold sun rose over the ocean at Cape
Cod on a perfect May morning, the bride
and groom, along with their parents, siblings and two closest friends, joined the minister for an exquisite,
intimate, deeply moving ceremony on the
beach. The bride looked radiant in a full‑length beaded gown with a sweep
train and full‑length veil, all purchased at a deep discount from the
closeout rack at the fanciest bridal salon in the city. Following the service,
the small group convened at a lovely old inn for an elegant‑down‑to‑the‑last‑crystal‑goblet
breakfast. Later that evening, they changed into casual clothes and welcomed a
huge crowd of well‑wishers for a clambake on the same beach where they
were married. Not only did the bills come in right at budget, but a year later
people are still talking about what a great party it was.
It's like the parable of the talents in the Bible.
Abundance didn't come to the man who took the one talent, buried it in the
ground, and upon his master's return
presented it to him intact and totally unchanged. Rather, it came to the two
who took what they were given and multiplied it. By using the talents with
which God has already rewarded you, you
can create abundance in both your wedding and in your
life‑‑whether you begin with five "talents,"
two, or only one.
A Case of Galloping Consumption
Of course there's abundance--and
there's also a miserable disease known as galloping consumption. In days gone
by, “galloping
consumption” was the term used to refer to
tuberculosis. Now it has taken on a whole
new meaning. Galloping consumption is what hits you when you're out shopping for the wedding and your credit card starts
sending up smoke signals. Even if funds are tight, you can come down with a
case serious enough to require intervention. But if you find yourself among the
tiny minority of couples for whom money is not a problem, you may be especially
vulnerable. Wash your hands, hold your breath, and don't talk to anyone whose
title begins with a "c"‑‑especially
calligraphers, consultants and caterers‑‑until you've had a chance
to take stock.
Popular columnist Dave Barry once quipped, "Your
wedding is sacred‑‑it should cost a lot!" As any good humorist
does, Barry honed right in on the absurdity of the thing. It doesn't take a
theologian to tell you that conspicuous consumption is the very antithesis of
Judeo‑Christian values at any time, but it is
most especially so when you are preparing for a passage as deeply spiritual as
marriage. We've already established that to clothe yourself in humility, as the Bible repeatedly exhorts us all to do, doesn't mean that you have to drag yourself down the aisle in sackcloth and ashes.
(You get to wear the Carolina Herreras, remember?) But it does suggest the need
to consider carefully the point at which
your dreams slip out of the realm of rare indulgence and enter the dangerous
ground of excess.
Excess is the point where the emphasis
shifts from grateful celebration to self‑glorification.
You will know you are there when. .
.
‑‑You begin ordering people around like a
bureaucrat
drunk on power
‑‑You find yourself dropping names of
brands, stores, pricey service providers, and even potential guests
‑‑You complain about things of which you
are actually quite proud, as in, "My caterer is driving me crazy! She must
call me a million times a day about hors d'oeuvres. Do I want black caviar or
red? What does she think I hired her for anyway?"
‑‑The wedding has taken over your life to
the point where even the time you spend with your fiancée
is consumed by it
‑‑You are embarrassed to admit how much
you actually spent and/or you are collaborating with your mother to keep the
full extent of the bills from your father's knowledge until after the wedding
‑‑You expect rules to be bent to
accommodate your every whim
‑‑You are actively seeking to outdo
someone or "make a splash"
‑‑You keep looking at dresses, rings,
flowers etc. after you have made your selections and ordered them
‑‑You are never satisfied with the
merchandise and services available to you and when you do finally reach a
decision, you repeatedly find fault with
the finished product, even when you have gone to great lengths to acquire it.
If you recognize yourself in any, or too many, of the
above examples, it may be wise to slow
down and rethink what it is you want your wedding to reflect. One couple, Amy
and Chuck, who were in their early 30s when they married and both quite
successful in their fields, found themselves in the midst of planning a
reception so lavish Amy now calls it "obscene."
"The ‘w’ word is armed and dangerous," she
says. "We say wedding and all of a sudden we're on a spendathon. Whether
you have a lot of money or a little money isn't really the point. The point is,
a wedding is a religious rite followed by a party. A party. Not the coronation
of the Queen of England."
Amy's wake‑up call came when she and her younger
sister went shopping for crystal bowls in which to float gardenias and candles
on each table at the reception. At a local department store they found exactly
what they wanted, and Amy wasted no time
asking the clerk to write up an order for 30 bowls at $30 apiece. The bill
didn't faze her until her sister suddenly said, "What are you going to do
with 30 crystal bowls after the wedding? It's not like anybody really needs
that many."
Amy says the offhand remark froze her in mid‑transaction. To her amazement, she
felt ashamed. Of course she wouldn't use them again. They would probably sit
wrapped up in boxes in the basement for years, or else she would end up giving
them as wedding gifts to everybody she knew. She
immediately told the clerk she wanted to
think about it some more, walked away‑‑and didn't go back. Instead
she took the money she would have spent and asked her minister to use it at his
discretion to make someone else's wedding dreams come true.
"I don't want to sound like your mother saying,
'think of all those starving children in India,'" she says, laughing,
"but the point is, Chuck and I were able to spread the wealth, pull off
one exceedingly fine wedding and feel good knowing that our happiness would
touch others in a tangible way."
Money, be it a little or a lot, requires
responsibility. Before you spend it on your wedding ask yourself three
questions.
‑‑Does this purchase have real, lasting
value?
‑‑Why am I buying it?
‑‑Does it give glory to God?
Listen carefully to the answers and let them lead you
where they inevitably will‑‑down the aisle to a simply beautiful
wedding.