NEW YORK (RNS) This Saturday (June 12), my oldest son and a fine young woman will stand on a rooftop patio overlooking Bryant Park, surrounded by the glowing skyscrapers of midtown Manhattan, and exchange marriage vows.

I will have the honor of officiating. I know to keep my homily short and light, assuming I can muster the composure to say anything at all when standing before my firstborn and his beloved.

Yet more needs to be said.

“I know this isn’t the venue for deep thoughts. But as you have discovered in your five years together, life takes us deep.

“There is nothing breezy about earning a living in the 21st century, working side by side in a startup venture, finding a place to live, forming a circle of friends in a bustling city, or making the daily decisions that are the stuff of life.

“There is nothing brief and light in merging two lives, two sets of dreams, two extended families, and two distinct personalities.

“Your families will do anything for you. Friends have traveled across continents and oceans to stand here with you. But in the deep places, it is just the two of you.

“In the dark nights of the soul, in the times of wondering, in the confusion and demands of parenting, in the shifting sands of success and failure, reaching and settling, feeling secure and feeling desperate, you will find yourselves alone together. Not because anyone abandoned you, but because you are forming a life — and life arises inevitably from the dust.

“Your love is deep today, but it will need to go deeper. You will make mistakes you could never imagine making. You will say words that wisdom would never say. You will hurt each other and fall short of your intentions. Your love will need then to take on a depth of mercy and forgiveness, a depth of patience and understanding, a depth of kindness and self-sacrifice.

“In those deep places, you will become a debtor, dependent on being forgiven when you wound and being loved when you aren’t loving. And in that depth, you will meet God.

“I know, son, that growing up in a clergy family has left you uninterested in church. Church can be a horrible experience for a clergy family. You have seen your father abused and trivialized; the stress of church life invaded our home. All of us are bruised. But that was church, not God. That was people in their weakness, not God in his majesty.

“God is still God, and nothing we experienced or will experience can separate us from the love of God. You will need that love in order to live, and my assurance to you is this: You are not alone.

“In the dark nights, grace will find you. In the confusing places, grace will comfort you. When you rise and when you fall, God will protect you. When you win and when you lose, God will preserve you. When you bring new life into the world, God will cradle all of you.

“Everyone on this patio loves you dearly. Our love is a small expression of God’s deep love for you. Abide in that love, and let it fill the depths of your being.”

(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of “Just Wondering, Jesus,” and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, http://www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is http://www.morningwalkmedia.com.)