All weddings, except those with shotguns in evidence, are

The words of Liz Smith, though wrapped in wit, reveal a timeless truth: “All weddings, except those with shotguns in evidence, are wonderful.” In this remark she exalts the beauty of unions born of love, while casting a sharp eye on those bound by force or compulsion. For a wedding should be the crowning of joy, not the chaining of souls; a feast of willing hearts, not a ritual of fear.

The image of the shotgun wedding, born of old custom, was no metaphor but a reality in some places—where a father or family, fearing shame or scandal, would compel a union with threats or violence. Such marriages were not celebrated as triumphs of love but endured as bonds of necessity. By contrasting these with the free wedding, Smith reminds us that the essence of marriage is choice: without freedom, the covenant loses its sanctity.

History gives us echoes of this lesson. In medieval Europe, forced marriages often served dynasties, binding houses together in politics but leaving the hearts of the bride and groom unfulfilled. The marriage of Anne of Cleves to Henry VIII was one such union—arranged by statecraft and duty, yet loveless from the start, dissolved almost as quickly as it began. Contrast this with the union of Victoria and Albert, where affection and mutual respect filled the marriage, and their reign bore the fruit of harmony. The difference was not in the grandeur of the wedding, but in the freedom and love that kindled it.

Smith’s words thus shine as a defense of love’s dignity. Every wedding where joy is present, where two souls stand freely and willingly, becomes a wonder—no matter the simplicity of the feast or the grandeur of the hall. But where coercion intrudes, the very air turns heavy, and the sacred song of love becomes hollow. True celebration cannot grow from compulsion; it must spring from desire.

Therefore, let this wisdom be passed down: honor the wedding that is born of choice, for it is holy and life-giving. Mock or pity the one born of force, for it denies the very heart of love. Smith’s jest, playful on the surface, is in truth a solemn reminder: that joy belongs to the willing, and that the only wonderful wedding is the one where two hearts walk side by side, not by command, but by their own eternal vow.