This is the season for weddings. I've performed three in the last three weeks, with more to come. Fortunately, each of the grooms I've married knew that he was marrying over his head, as I did. Not all husbands are this wise.

For instance, a friend sent me this unfortunate story: "When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed. But somehow I always had something else to take care of first--the truck, the car, fishing, always something more important to me.

"Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point. When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house.

"I was gone only a few minutes. When I came out again I handed her a toothbrush. 'When you finish cutting the grass,' I said, 'you might as well sweep the sidewalk.'

"The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp." As he should.

This summer we've surveyed a number of images and metaphors for the church. We've learned that we are his "saints," called out to belong to him. We are his new creation, the temple of his Holy Spirit, branches on his vine, his "building." Today we learn that we are his bride and he is our Groom. We learn that being ready for our wedding in eternity is the best way to live today. And we learn why.

For those days when you wonder if your life matters much, whether anyone really knows or cares about you, whether you're going anywhere significant or your days are worthwhile, remember this fact: you are the Bride of Christ. Today it is my privilege to show you why that fact is our hope.