Promises to keep: when the cake is gone, will our wedding presence last longer than just "the big day"? (the examined life).

AS A GUEST AT CATHOLIC WEDDINGS, I OFTEN FIND myself wondering why an ostensibly nonreligious couple has chosen to have a religious service in the first place. Conscious of my inadequacy to judge a person's relationship with God, I am not offended by their choice but simply curious.

Sometimes I've heard the couple, in the days and weeks before the wedding, mock the need for the religious language, such as "keeping God at the center of the relationship." Or they complain about church regulations that aim to keep the carnival to a minimum.

In most of these scenarios, the focus is on the party after the wedding. I've heard a lot of "Let's get to the fun part." But my all-time favorite is, "We decided not to have a Mass because we felt like the whole Communion thing would just be a big distraction and we wanted to keep things focused on us."

So why do it in a church at all? Why have a sacrament, a priest, scripture readings, and blessings if you don't believe in any of it?

Last week I witnessed the marriage of my best friend to a man she's been goofy about since the day they met. They are the kind of couple that makes you think loving someone is easy, because when they are together they just laugh--loud--all the time. At the wedding, all the guests kept saying how they were such a perfect match for each other, particularly when they danced an Irish jig in synchronous bliss at the reception.

The night before, at the rehearsal, the priest spoke to the wedding party about the commitment we were all making by coming together in this way. "Why do we do this in a church?" he asked. And then he answered himself: "Because we are here to pray with this couple, to witness this sacrament between two people that we love, and to pledge ourselves to support them with our prayers and our actions as long as we all shall live. These two people are taking on a tremendously serious responsibility to one another, a vow that is not easy to keep in this day and age."

Just a week before that, I had found out that another couple close to me, married five years, had separated. And looking at my friend on her wedding day, my stomach suddenly turned in knots when I thought, "My God, what if that happens to them?"

Because just five years ago, the other two had looked at each other with those same giggly eyes and made the same promises. How could the love they shared so intensely fade so much that it tore them apart? How could it have happened?

Everyone close to them is struggling with questions and confusion about how much to get involved, trying to determine what will be perceived as help and concern and what as interference. Do you ask personal questions? Do you suggest a program you've heard of, or a therapist? And how do you care deeply about both people in the relationship? I think most people don't know what to do, so they do nothing.

One of our friends keeps saying that we were all witnesses to the marriage and therefore have a responsibility to intervene and do everything possible to help the couple reconcile their differences. I think she's right. But it's difficult to do in a culture that tells us marriage is a private matter and people should handle things on their own. So we don't pry and we hold our tongues, often refraining from sending very necessary messages of care and concern.

A MARRIAGE VOW IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PROMISE WE CAN make--and keep--in our lifetime. When that promise gets broken, the effect reaches far beyond the couple itself. The hope lost between one couple is also a blow to those around them, threatening other relationships and the fabric of a community that depends on people's commitments.

So what about us? Where do we fit in? When do we get involved? Do we get involved at all?

Something tells me we must.

Because the couple may not realize it, but they need us. And we need them. All of us need a community that supports us, that prays with us and for us, that stands witness to our promises, our rites of passage, our sorrows, and our sacraments.

We need to believe that those vows mean something, not just in the context of a secular, societal framework, but in the context of our belief in God and a community of believers.

And even if they don't believe in it, we have to.

TARA K. DIX, assistant editor at U.S. CATHOLIC.