Marriage is Fine Wine
By: Rob Hudelson   -   Published: 11/17/2015

    Wine makes people giddy. It causes them to do silly things—throwing off normal inhibitions. In the Bible yeast represents influence. When it comes to making wine, yeast is a foreign agent introduced into the juice so it will ferment over time. In like fashion marriage brings two vines together to produce one juice, which, in the yeast of multiplied circumstances produces a life together over time. This new life—something made better by shared strengths and weaknesses, joys and sorrows, triumphs and trials—creates a new and intoxicating drink... fine wine indeed.

Last night my wife was sitting on the floor indian style with our three youngest children. Another three kiddos were on the sectional couch; one of my precious girls was giving me a foot message. While I—a lover of foot messages—closed my eyes to enjoy every pressing of the tendon and pulling of the toe, they watched a comedy. I found their laughter funnier than the film. One laugh, though, stood out and gave me the most pleasure—that of my wife.

I remember the days before I married Amy. A friend took me to lunch (probably to get me to slow down and reconsider getting married so quickly) and said to me, “She laughs too much.” He might be right, I thought. Or, maybe we laugh too little. Either way, that laugh was going to be with me, Lord willing, for the rest of my life. I didn't realize at that time how sweet would be the sound of that laugh 22 years and 7 children later. The sound of that laugh is a concert of crescendos and decrescendos. Interspersed between the living children were five miscarriages providing some of the minor notes in the symphony of our story.

Speaking of symphonies, recently our first born son got married. I had to learn how to waltz. I say, “had to” because I am an eighties kid who spent more time trying to imitate Michael Jackson than embracing anything of a high culture flair. Waltzing and expanding my vocabulary were to be avoided at all costs. Then came my high culture dame. Twenty two years later, she is waltzing with our son at his wedding. This was unexpected back in 93'. There she was flowing, smiling, and laughing with our son who was leaving our home—more low note tears for the denouement of our life-symphony. Now I waltz with my love in the kitchen. One day when all the brood has left the nest, our dance will be even sweeter. Along with the sorrow of the setting sun, memories will be our violins; stories will play the strings; and the Lord, by His grace, will still be conducting the concert. Over time, you can see how the orchestra grows.

I have never been one to tell jokes. I think somewhere in my past I must have attempted to tell jokes and experienced the emotional trauma of having people look at me with that “please don't ever do that again” look, which makes an insecure guy want to crawl under something—anything—and disappear. She, however, has seen the worst of me. This, of course, is very freeing. We have seen each other’s weaknesses. So, I learned two jokes last week for the expressed purpose of telling them at dinner time. If the jokes fell flat she would not need to say anything, I would know by looking at her. At dinner I told my jokes. The first one was a swing and a miss. But I could tell that she was intrigued by the fact that I had told a joke—actually learned a joke to tell. The second one, however, scored! I knew it scored when her eyes disappeared—that is what happens when she smiles real big. It was such a success I wondered why I had not tried this before. Why, this could even be my new mating dance! The truth is she likes to see me leading even in my weakness. Weakness and vulnerability pressed together with love over long periods of time create an intoxicating atmosphere. Drinking deeply of this fine wine most assuredly will cause one to throw off inhibitions more readily than strong drink.

This is what Jesus does at weddings. He turns ordinary water into wine—the best wine. Two people becoming one, living together in weakness, fermenting in the yeast of time, yielded to the master conductor become a symphony which only they can hear in all of its fullness. People who cannot hear the orchestra cannot waltz in time. But yielded to the conductor, the marriage becomes fine wine.



Rob Hudelson - bio
Rob Hudelson is a graduate of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. After ten years of youth ministry Rob followed God's call to Arizona to plant a Family Integrated Church on the east side of Phoenix. With Rob as pastor, Legacy Baptist Church began nine years ago and is currently meeting in Coolidge, Az. He has a special interest in proclaiming the Bible as the source of authority for counseling and politics. Rob was recently elected to the Coolidge City Council. He and Amy have been married for 22 years and have 7 children.

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Sermons by Rob
The Unassailable Nation
What would it look like if God were to bless our nation?

The Biblical Roots of America
July 4 not only represents our nation’s declaration of independence, but it also represents God’s providence on the earth.

Rob is editor of