Near the end of the Lutheran marriage liturgy, a prayer is prayed. Technically, three prayers are prayed. The first is for the groom and bride. The second is for all marriages and the homes they produce. The third is the Lord’s Prayer. The prayer I’m thinking about right now is the second prayer. It reads:

“O God, our dwelling place in all generations, look with favor upon the homes of our land. Embrace husbands and wives, parents and children, in the arms of Your love, and grant that each, in reverence for Christ, fulfill the duties You have given. Bless our homes that they may ever be a shelter for the defenseless, a fortress for the tempted, a resting place for the weary, and a foretaste of our eternal home with You; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.”

I suppose the prayer comes to mind for a few reasons. First, my son, Joshua, and his fiancé, Lexi, will start their premarital counseling classes with me soon. Anyone who wants to be married in this congregation must take these classes. Being related to the pastor provides no exception. Of course, I did offer to step aside and let someone else do it. Nevertheless, they insisted that I be the one, and I’m happy to help.

Perhaps the second reason is that very soon, two longtime and beloved members of this congregation will celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary.

Wow. Sixty-five years.

We can all admit that such marital spans are almost unheard of today. Not necessarily because it’s sixty-five years, but because marriage has more or less become disposable. Before I continue, I should say right away that I appreciate the folks who work hard to preserve marriage, especially those whose marriages may have been undone by divorce. It’s a sensitive subject, I know. Still, I commend the ones who did as their Lord required. They endured a proverbial meatgrinder, pursuing every avenue to preserve the sacred bond. Emotionally thrashed, they didn’t give up, even when they had the biblical license to do so. They kept their eyes fixed on what God said was better. They’ve more than demonstrated their verve as spouses. They’ve more than proven their desire for a home described by the above prayer, one that is “a shelter for the defenseless, a fortress for the tempted, a resting place for the weary….”

I suppose these things relate to another reason this prayer came to mind. Each time I’ve prayed it during the marriage liturgy, I’ve been moved by the words. In a sense, it isn’t necessarily describing a perfect home, but instead, the kind of home produced by marriage to a perfect friend. Or maybe a better way to say it would be the home God makes possible when He pairs a person with a genuine best friend.

For as uncertain and cruel as so many circumstances and relationships in this world can be, in marriage, God provides that one unfailing friend with whom to endure all of it. “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18). God was right. Speaking from experience, my wife has been a reliable shelter whenever I’ve needed refuge from the pelting world. Through times of seemingly endless attacks, Jennifer has been a fortress. Through one exhausting event after another, going home to my bride has been the fulfillment of promised rest.

I’ll bet if I asked the folks who’ll be celebrating their sixty-fifth year of marriage about these things, they’d likely agree.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Even the best marriages aren’t perfect. Whether one day or sixty-five years into the marriage, trouble is likely to appear. There’s a saying that few men or women are so perfect that their spouses do not regret marrying them at least once daily. Maybe that saying bears a little bit of truth. Humans are born sinful. I can promise that I give Jennifer plenty of reasons for strapping me to a golf tee, pulling out her driver, and thwacking me into the woods. Of course, I’d never say the same thing about her—at least, not in print. (I’d likely need a sand wedge with her.) Still, with the Lord’s promised grace enveloping a marriage, the kind born from the person and work of Jesus Christ—a divine grace that immerses both the husband and wife in a tidal wash of daily forgiveness—not even the worst of marital catastrophes can parch such a relationship, let alone the annoyances that plague one day to the next.

This is what the above prayer means when it talks about being embraced in the arms of God’s love. It’s a good prayer. Of course, it stands in the shadow of the greatest prayer: the Lord’s Prayer. The Lord’s Prayer says all this and more, especially when you consider that everything it asks passes through the hope-filled words “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done….” If you’re familiar with Luther’s explanation in the Small Catechism, then you know that to ask for God’s kingdom to come is to pray that “our heavenly Father gives us His Holy Spirit, so that by His grace we believe His holy Word and lead godly lives….” To ask, “How is God’s will done?” is to hear Luther reply:

“God’s will is done when He breaks and hinders every evil plan and purpose of the devil, the world, and our sinful nature, which do not want us to hallow God’s name or let His kingdom come; and when He strengthens and keeps us firm in His Word and faith until we die. This is His good and gracious will.”

A marriage rooted in God’s mercy delivered by His Gospel Word for faith rests in the Savior’s wonderful embrace. His protective care is a sturdy bastion capable of withstanding the devil’s terrible assaults. This is true not because the spouse He gives in marriage is perfect but because the Lord is. With Him, a marriage has everything it needs. With Him, sixty-five years with the same person becomes an immeasurable life-long joy shared with a best friend.