Congregation Kol Ami - Vancouver, WA
I LOVE doing music at weddings.
I have had the pleasure of singing and playing at a number of weddings since my own wedding day nearly eleven years ago. Today's celebration was no different: sweet, joyous; the happy throngs of well-wishers; the bridal couple looking so incredibly happy they just might lift off for the moon at any moment. Here were two people ridiculously in love with each other who took the next big step of Making It Official.
Every wedding reminds me in some small way of my own.
Sweetie and I did not have a lot of money, but we had (and have) a lot of loving friends and family who helped us make the day wonderful and complete, with an overflowing potluck sweets table; delicious, homemade-from-scratch wedding cakes (in five different flavors!); Sweetie's klezmer band playing live music while two friends led us all in Israeli folk dancing on the grass; young children playing freeze tag between two large trees; and above it all the sweet sound of laughter as our guests greeted us and each other in pure joy. We had so much fun at our wedding that we wanted to stay until the very end -- which of course, we weren't supposed to do. My sister had to remind us that our guests couldn't leave until we did, and she gently steered us out the gate towards our packed bags and our romantic weekend.
Mostly I am reminded of our wedding when I play for another Jewish wedding, and remember the circling before the chuppah (wedding canopy). In an egalitarian wedding, each beloved in the bridal couple circles the other three times, for a total of six; and then the pair circle around each other a seventh and final time before stepping under the canopy to begin the ceremony. It is a quiet and moving thing to witness. Today I accompanied this ritual with Ellen and Peter Allards' simple, beautiful song:
All around, everywhere
All around, everywhere
Holy, holiness
In my heart, in your soul
In my heart, in your soul
Holy, Holiness
Out of the corner of my eye, as I sang, I watched the circling. While I remained firmly in the present and rooted in the task at hand, I simultaneously remembered Sweetie and I circling each other in a beautiful, green garden -- and smiled.
Every wedding is a radical act of committing oneself -- and each other -- to the obligation of working on a marriage together: to be in it for the long haul, till death do us part, no matter what may happen. I love doing music at weddings because every couple who commits to each other this way is committing the most radical act of love and trust I can think of, that of committing to something bigger than just oneself. When a couple takes this step in the presence of a loving community, that community is on the hook to uphold and support the newly married couple as they begin their shared journey. Every successful marriage strengthens all of us. We are all in it for the long haul.
Mazal tov to L and T as they begin their shared journey, and thank you for inviting me to be a helpful part of this beautiful day.
I have had the pleasure of singing and playing at a number of weddings since my own wedding day nearly eleven years ago. Today's celebration was no different: sweet, joyous; the happy throngs of well-wishers; the bridal couple looking so incredibly happy they just might lift off for the moon at any moment. Here were two people ridiculously in love with each other who took the next big step of Making It Official.
Every wedding reminds me in some small way of my own.
Sweetie and I did not have a lot of money, but we had (and have) a lot of loving friends and family who helped us make the day wonderful and complete, with an overflowing potluck sweets table; delicious, homemade-from-scratch wedding cakes (in five different flavors!); Sweetie's klezmer band playing live music while two friends led us all in Israeli folk dancing on the grass; young children playing freeze tag between two large trees; and above it all the sweet sound of laughter as our guests greeted us and each other in pure joy. We had so much fun at our wedding that we wanted to stay until the very end -- which of course, we weren't supposed to do. My sister had to remind us that our guests couldn't leave until we did, and she gently steered us out the gate towards our packed bags and our romantic weekend.
Mostly I am reminded of our wedding when I play for another Jewish wedding, and remember the circling before the chuppah (wedding canopy). In an egalitarian wedding, each beloved in the bridal couple circles the other three times, for a total of six; and then the pair circle around each other a seventh and final time before stepping under the canopy to begin the ceremony. It is a quiet and moving thing to witness. Today I accompanied this ritual with Ellen and Peter Allards' simple, beautiful song:
All around, everywhere
All around, everywhere
Holy, holiness
In my heart, in your soul
In my heart, in your soul
Holy, Holiness
Out of the corner of my eye, as I sang, I watched the circling. While I remained firmly in the present and rooted in the task at hand, I simultaneously remembered Sweetie and I circling each other in a beautiful, green garden -- and smiled.
Every wedding is a radical act of committing oneself -- and each other -- to the obligation of working on a marriage together: to be in it for the long haul, till death do us part, no matter what may happen. I love doing music at weddings because every couple who commits to each other this way is committing the most radical act of love and trust I can think of, that of committing to something bigger than just oneself. When a couple takes this step in the presence of a loving community, that community is on the hook to uphold and support the newly married couple as they begin their shared journey. Every successful marriage strengthens all of us. We are all in it for the long haul.
Mazal tov to L and T as they begin their shared journey, and thank you for inviting me to be a helpful part of this beautiful day.
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