Young people: marry simply, start your life, and party later.

In the voice of Glennon Doyle Melton, we hear a cry of wisdom against the illusions of spectacle. She calls to the young people: “marry simply, start your life, and party later.” For what is the worth of a feast that lasts a night, if it consumes the strength needed for a lifetime? She reminds us that the coins poured into a single wedding might better serve the long road of marriage—into care for the crying child, into counsel for the weary hearts, into the daily bread of a household built not on debt but on devotion. Thus she teaches that one must invest in the marriage, not the wedding.

The ancients, too, warned against confusing grandeur with greatness. The philosopher Seneca wrote that men waste their gold on festivals, but neglect to spend on wisdom that might guard them all their days. In the same way, Melton warns that the wedding banquet, however dazzling, fades like smoke, while the covenant of marriage endures like stone. To choose simplicity is not to choose poverty, but to honor what is eternal over what is fleeting.

Her words also reveal the truth of preparation. She speaks of babysitting for the colicky baby, of marriage therapy for the inevitable storms. These images remind us that love is not preserved by roses and music, but by patience, humility, and aid in times of weakness. Just as warriors must sharpen their swords before battle, so must couples prepare their hearts and homes for the trials that will surely come. To neglect this is folly; to prepare is wisdom.

History offers its witness. The Spartans were famed not for lavish weddings, but for simple unions rooted in strength and discipline. Their marriages endured not because they celebrated in excess, but because they honored duty and mutual respect above all. By contrast, kingdoms that poured fortunes into weddings often found their coffers empty when true trials arrived. The lesson is eternal: to build a foundation strong enough to endure requires investment in what lies beyond the day of ceremony.

Therefore, let future generations remember: a wedding is but the doorway; the marriage is the house. To pour all treasures into the door and leave the house empty is folly. Melton’s words shine with ancient wisdom: choose simplicity, honor the vow over the spectacle, and place your wealth where it strengthens the bond rather than adorns it. For the feast fades, but love—if nourished with care—endures.