If I’m ever inclined to slide my wedding video into the old dinosaur that is my trusty VHS, the idea of listening to the rabbi’s speech is the fastest deterrent imaginable.
Delivered on a sweltering day in a synagogue with no air conditioning, the rabbi hired for the occasion droned on for 40 minutes in a long-winded soliloquy to which I doubt very much anyone really listened. As I fidgeted beneath the chupah in impractically high heels and many layers of silk and tulle, I remember thinking “Will this ever end?” Our trusty videographer determined he’d capture the entire monologue on video and save it for posterity – though why I cannot imagine. We didn’t listen to it on our wedding day, and we certainly don’t have any intention of reliving that speech 18 years later.
The rabbi was only doing what he thought was his job – marrying an ex-South African couple who’d flown back home for their wedding – by imparting the gravity of the wedding ceremony and the roles we would play as chattan and kallah. That he knew nothing about us was a fact that never entered the equation because that speech, I’m fairly certain, had been delivered at many other weddings in slightly different forms. It wasn’t about the individuals standing beneath the chupah with love-struck eyes. It had something to do with the spirituality of man and woman uniting and each of their respective roles. I’m not sure of this, though, because as I said, I wasn’t listening intently at the time.
Recently, though, I had cause to reflect on that speech and how different it might have been had today’s bridal trends held sway back then. When a bridal magazine asked me to research wedding ceremonies and how they were changing, I came into contact with Michele Davidson, a wedding officiant with Modern Celebrant in Vancouver. She described the custom wedding ceremonies she creates for couples after she’s come to know them over months of in-depth interviews that involve written reflections, face-to-face meetings and thought-provoking questions that prompt meaningful responses. Each ceremony is written from scratch for each couple, including material on the pair’s story, what drew them together and what keeps them united.
In one ritual for the ceremony of a wine-loving couple, she instructed them to select a case of wine that would age well. Bride and groom were told to write one another letters wherein they reflected on their love for each other, and to seal those letters and place them in the wine case.
“They’ll open it on a pre-specified anniversary date, or if their marriage runs into trouble before then,” she told me. “At that time they’ll share a glass of good wine, read the letters they wrote each other before their wedding and remember what drew them together.”
Davidson’s ceremonies are months in the making, and they’re not cheap, “but each one is like a commissioned work of art,” she says. “There’s not a boring second in there.”
Her words took me right back to the hot synagogue and the rabbi at my wedding, who had no idea who we were as individuals or what had drawn us together. He was just a man in a long black coat who’d been hired for the occasion and considered our ceremony a platform for his ideas of what a marriage should be.
“Often religious officiants have an agenda for the wedding and insist the couple fall under their agenda,” one officiant said. “We believe the ceremony is about what our couples believe, and most of them want something soulful, spiritual and personal.”
I’m not planning a second marriage, but if I ever renewed my vows, I’d choose an officiant like Davidson to create that ceremony in a heartbeat. I’ve sat through more than my share of rabbinical soliloquys, memorable only for their lengthy duration, speeches that are seldom “on my level.” I’m certain I’m not alone. I think couples everywhere are ready for a fresh breeze that heralds a more innovative wedding ceremony, one that celebrates who they are as individuals, what values they share and how bright their future will be should their love and trust persist. If there’s a rabbi who can deliver that, I’d love to meet him or her.