Wedding rings need to be sparkly to remind us not to have sex

In the words of Andrea Savage, we hear a jest that cloaks a deeper truth. She speaks of wedding rings, those circles of metal worn upon the hand, and declares that they must be sparkly, not only for beauty’s sake, but to serve as a visible reminder of fidelity—“not to have sex with other people.” Beneath the humor lies the wisdom that symbols anchor the heart, and that even the brightest spark upon the finger serves to recall the vows spoken in sacred union.

The ancients revered the power of symbols to govern human conduct. The Romans bound themselves with oaths before the gods, sealing promises with tokens or marks, knowing that the visible sign strengthened the invisible vow. So too does the wedding ring, glittering in the light, act as a sentinel of memory. It whispers to the wearer: “Remember your covenant, remember the face of the one who trusted you.” Its sparkle is not vanity alone, but the brilliance of accountability.

Her playful phrasing reminds us that human beings are creatures of sight as well as spirit. Temptation may call, yet the glimmering ring catches the eye and recalls the promise made. Just as a soldier sees the insignia upon his breastplate and remembers his duty, so does the married soul see the shining ring and recall the sacred vow. The sparkle is not simply decoration; it is a shield.

History offers its reflection in the story of the Puritans of New England, who at first forbade the wearing of wedding rings, fearing them vain. Yet over time, even they came to see the necessity of such symbols, for without them, memory waned and vows seemed too abstract. The ring became not only an adornment, but a visible covenant, guarding marriages in a world where temptation was ever near.

Therefore, let this teaching endure: while Savage’s words are wrapped in laughter, their wisdom is clear. Wedding rings are more than jewels; they are reminders of loyalty, a glimmering tether between two souls. Their beauty serves not only to delight, but to discipline—to remind us of the vow to forsake all others. In this way, the sparkle upon the finger is both ornament and oath, shining not only with light, but with the weight of promise eternal.