How to Run a Traditional Jewish Household
Page 23
Next comes the core ritual of a marriage ceremony: the giving of the ring and recitation of the marriage formula. The rabbi will call up two preselected witnesses, again two ritually observant males who are not related to the bride or groom. In the presence of the two witnesses, the rabbi asks the groom if the ring belongs to him. If it is an heirloom, the groom is also required to have made a token purchase so that it is legally his. The ring must be one solid piece, without any precious stones. This was instituted in order to avoid any deceit, lest the bride be misled about the worth of the ring, possibly mistaking colored glass for precious stones. As the witnesses look on, the groom places the ring on the index finger of her right hand, and recites the ancient nine-word formula:
Harai at mekudeshet lee, b’ta’ba’at zu, k’dat Mosheh v’Yisrael.
Be sanctified (betrothed) to me with this ring in accordance with the law of Moses and Israel.
Even though the groom knows the formula by heart, he follows the rabbi, who says it aloud, two or three words at a time. There were some (there still are) who could not memorize this formula, and in order not to embarrass them, all grooms, learned and otherwise, were required to repeat it after the rabbi.
Now the ketubah is read in its original Aramaic. Either the rabbi will read it, or another guest is given the honor. Often a brief English translation is read after the Aramaic text is completed. One very recent innovation is to have a woman read the ketubah. There is no other part of the ceremony that a woman can perform; according to Orthodox interpretation of halacha she cannot recite the blessings, nor serve as a witness. Although some would be loath to admit it and others reluctant to permit it, reading the ketubah is not expressly forbidden to women. Thus, in an attempt to redress imbalances in female “public” ceremonial roles, a prominent Orthodox rabbi has permitted women to read the ketubah.
After it has been read, the ketubah is handed to the groom, who gives it to the bride to keep. The legal part of the ceremony is completed. At this point, the rabbi will often say a few words to the bride and groom.
Traditional Judaism does not include a double-ring ceremony. Most Orthodox couples are satisfied with the ceremony as is, and save the groom’s ring for later. However, where the bride wants to give him a ring under the chuppah, she will generally do this after the reading of the ketubah, but without reciting the ancient marriage formula. Another option: if the bride wishes to make an oral declaration as she gives him the ring, she will recite selected verses from the Bible to him, and he will respond to her in kind. An Orthodox rabbi will integrate this into the ceremony in a manner that does not confuse it with the traditional marriage ritual.
Most rabbis, however, will not permit the bride to recite the traditional marriage formula under the chuppah. Yet, I know of an Orthodox wedding where the bride, an ardent feminist with strong feelings about the matter, wanted to recite the traditional marriage formula. The rabbi’s Solomonic solution, which satisfied her well, was to explain that “by traditional ruling, the act of consecration was accomplished through the husband’s recitation of the formula several moments ago. The bride now wishes to give her husband a ring, and say the formula as a statement of her commitment, and in the hope that Jewish tradition will grow to incorporate this act in the legal structure of the ceremony.”
The third and closing part of the ceremony is the cluster of seven additional blessings of marriage, the Birchot Nissuin, which are also called Sheva (seven) B’rachot. These, too, are recited over a cup of wine. These blessings, however, are quite separate from the earlier ones. In order to make the distinction very clear, a separate wine goblet is used.
The honor of reciting a b’racha is given to different guests, each of whom is called in turn to the chuppah. Each holds the cup of wine as he recites the blessing. After the Sheva B’rachot are completed, the rabbi hands the cup of wine, this time to the bride’s father, who raises it to the groom’s lips, and then the mother of the bride raises her daughter’s veil and brings the wine to her to sip.
The ceremony is over. But before we can all shout out mazel tov to the new couple and their families, we must intrude reality and memory for an instant. In the last of the seven blessings, we asked God to restore the sounds of joy and gladness, the sounds of bride and groom to Zion and Jerusalem. It has reminded us that the Temple was destroyed, that the world is not yet wholly redeemed, that our own happiness cannot be complete until Zion and Jerusalem are secure. As a symbol of that ancient shattering and the as-yet unredeemed world, a glass is wrapped in a napkin and placed on the floor where the groom shatters it with a well placed stomp.
There. We have remembered and it is done! Now, our joy returns. Everyone calls out with full voice, “Mazel tov! Mazel tov!” Orthodox couples generally don’t kiss each other under the chuppah (although some do), but before they leave they hug their parents, and new in-laws. As they turn to go back down the aisle, they are ushered out by a host of young men who have rushed forward and who link arms in rows of fours and fives to sing and dance their way backward out of the wedding hall, escorting the happy couple to the yichud chamber, for a few moments of precious privacy.
Yichud is the time immediately following the ceremony when the bride and groom can break their fast and spend a few moments in complete privacy. There are even two witnesses posted at the door to ensure their privacy. Yichud has two associations: (1) In Biblical times, the bride and groom would have their first intercourse immediately after marriage, and the bride would bring forth tokens of her virginity—the sheet with bloodstains—which her family would then display as a badge of honor. Primitive? Well, at least it’s not done any longer. (2) According to Jewish law, there were three ways to get married: with money (ring), with a legal document, and with intercourse. The latter way was rejected by the Rabbis as not being a legitimate mode of marrying. Nevertheless, with yichud, the couple secreted alone, the ceremony symbolically incorporates all three modes. Yichud finalizes the halachic requirements of a Jewish marriage.
After yichud, the couple participates with all their guests in the seudat mitzvah. However, since they were separated right up until the ceremony, no photographs could be taken of them together and with their respective families other than the moment of badeken and, of course, the ceremony itself. Add the eighteen minutes for yichud, which even a photographer may not violate, and you begin to understand why some couples do not rejoin their guests at the dinner for almost an hour after they have walked back down the aisle.
Photographers can be somewhat overbearing in their attempts to do their job. Moreover, the family wants those posed wedding pictures. Yet, it seems rude to stay away from the wedding-dinner guests for so long. There are three compromises possible:
1. Stipulate that a photographer has fifteen minutes to take the most essential formal poses of the couple and their families, and the rest he must capture in candid photos.
2. Skip the formal poses altogether. The best wedding pictures I ever saw of a traditional Jewish wedding were taken by an Italian photographer who took only candid shots. The pictures were his wedding gift to his friends. (Of course, the fact that professionally he was a Time-Life photographer didn’t hurt....)
3. Schedule the wedding with the ceremony first, smorgasbord reception next, during which there is ample time for yichud and a photography session, before the dinner even begins.
At most Orthodox weddings, there is a minimum of social dancing and more likely none at all, and a maximum of Chasidic and Israeli dancing, which centers around the bride and groom. All the guests are enjoined to rejoice with the bride and groom, who dance in thier respective female/male circles. Several times during the reception, they will be seated in the center of the dancing circle, or carried aloft in chairs, while their friends clap and sing around them. Each year, the dances become more elaborate, and now the popular thing is for friends to dance in costume, to put on skits, to compose grammen (rhymed lyrics about the couple). At a recent wedding, two yeshiva boys danc
ed in fedoras that were aflame (alcohol). “When it began to get hot, we removed them.” A couple of friends donned magician’s costumes and performed tricks in the center as others danced around, and the bride and groom looked on. One could even stand on the sidelines, and feast one’s eyes and laugh every moment. The musicians play a big part in helping the spirit along. They must know or be instructed what music to play, when, how loud, and how long; thus, the choice of musicians is an important one.
The dinner closes with a special Grace that includes the repetition of the Sheva B’rachot. Again, individuals are given the special honor of reciting the blessings.
A Jewish wedding is part religious ceremony, part party. Thus, the rules regarding separation of the sexes (the guests) are quite complex, and open to variation. In certain Chasidic and “black hat” circles, everything is separate—the prewedding reception, the seating at the ceremony, the dinner, even the bride’s and groom’s dinner tables. A friend of mine once reported tongue in cheek of such a wedding, “Everything was so separate—the bride and groom got married on different nights.”
In the modern Orthodox weddings, men and women mingle comfortably at the preceremony reception and are seated together at the formal dinner. At about half the weddings of modern Orthodox that I’ve attended during the last decade, men and women were seated separately during the ceremony, as they are in shul. Twenty years ago, that wasn’t the case. That the whole community has shifted to the right is visible in these fine details.
A traditional Jewish wedding is a delightful, joyous beginning to another bayit ne’eman, a faithful household in Israel. And just to make sure it gets under way properly, the custom among Orthodox Jews is to continue the celebration for a full week of Sheva B’rachot at the homes of family and friends.
Each evening (or afternoon) a dinner is given in honor of the couple. Often, friends who could not be invited to the wedding are invited to one of the Sheva B’rachot dinners. People understand that the high cost of caterers and the multiple family and friendship circles we all have make it impossible to invite everyone to the wedding. Sheva B’rachot, then, are a way of saying we want you to share in some part of our joy. One does not take insult (hopefully) to be invited to Sheva B’rachot, even though he/she was not invited to the wedding.
Sheva B’rachot are filled with singing, words of Torah, and general rejoicing. The special wedding Grace with its Sheva B’rachot, seven blessings, is recited each night, which is why these affairs are called Sheva B’rachot. A minyan is required for reciting the Sheva B’rachot.
But Sheva B’rachot are not a hard-and-fast rule. Some couples have two or three Sheva B’rachot in their honor. Some leave immediately for a honeymoon, where pulling together a minyan is not possible. The flexibility is designed to meet the needs of the new couple. Let’s hope life will treat them that way.
CHAPTER · 10
BIRTH
Of this community it can be said: the vital signs are good!
The very first commandment/blessing in the Torah is: be fruitful and multiply. It used to be, among most Jews, that fairly soon after a man and a woman married they would begin a family. A year or two later if there were no signs of pregnancy, relatives and friends would begin to wonder, and sometimes to ask, “Is everything okay?”
Nowadays, Jewish women do a lot of other things after they marry; often they decide not to have children for a long while. And some decide never. The birthrate for American Jews is 1.5 children per family, the lowest ever in this country, lower than the national birthrate of 1.8. Moreover, because of the drain-away factors of assimilation and intermarriage, the replacement level for Jews has been determined to be at 2.3 children per family, slightly higher than the general replacement level of 2.1. The gloom-and-doomers predict that American Jews will be out of business by the year 2100.
All of that falls very hard on the ears of an Orthodox Jew. It seems so remote, so out of touch with internal realities. Among the Orthodox, high value is placed on having children. At better than replacement levels. In our shul, for example, which seems to be bursting at the seams with life, the median number of children per family is three. As I look around every Shabbat at those young couples, with their. offspring decked out in Shabbat finery, a hundred babes perched on their mothers’ laps, or held in their fathers’ arms, I sense that there is a very powerful peer-reinforcing factor operating here. Even those who postpone children because of careers are caught up in it. It becomes simply a matter of time.
PREGNANCY
There is nothing quite like a first pregnancy: the excitement until you know for sure; feeling growth and movement; the breathing and pushing classes; buying new maternity clothes; the joy of “telling and showing”; the gradual realization that this is the beginning of your own family; taking time to read those books about pregnancy, child care, and “how to give your child a superior mind”; and, finally, treasuring those last few months of privacy, knowing that soon there will be no more spontaneous 6:00 P.M. decisions to drop everything and go out for a dinner and a show. But if you’re a member of an Orthodox community, there is something else, too: knowing that everyone approves and admires and thinks that you are doing the most absolutely perfect, clever, wise, and wonderful thing in the world.
CHOOSING AN OBSTETRICIAN
If you life in a city where there are many choices, then finding a good obstetrician can mean several things:
1. A doctor who will be encouraging in the kind of delivery you prefer (two decades ago, doctors discouraged natural childbirth and some would refuse to take the “naturals” as patients. Some obstetricians still have a strong bias in favor of full anesthesia).
2. A doctor associated with a good hospital, one that accommodates your particular needs (husband in labor and delivery rooms, visiting schedules as you like them, early release for home, and so forth).
3. Inquiring whether the hospital allows in-hospital circumcision to be performed by a qualified mohel in case the need should arise (for example, after Cesarean section, when mother and child are kept in the hospital past eight days). The Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations publishes a list of such hospitals in New York City. In any given town, the rabbi can put you in touch with a mohel who will know which hospitals permit ritual circumcision.
4. Most hospitals in large cities serve kosher food packages or will carefully accommodate a kosher diet. It is to your advantage to have “kosher diet” noted on your hospital application form before and not after delivery.
As the delivery date approaches, there is much to do. Many couples, especially with a first child, follow the custom of purchasing a layette and nursery furniture, but not having anything delivered until after a healthy, normal birth has taken place. I should add that this is custom and not law, and therefore there are those who, having every reasonable hope that things will turn out fine, go right ahead and outfit a nursery weeks before due date.
In packing a bag for the hospital, remember to put in a siddur (prayer book), a small chumash (Bible), a set of inexpensive travel candlesticks, Shabbat candles, matches, and a small bottle of wine—just in case recovery time comes out during Shabbat. (Do not put in a silver Kiddush cup, as chances are, in a large hospital, it will not be there for Shabbat morning’s Kiddush.)
SHABBAT AND GIVING BIRTH
There is a one-in-seven chance that you will go into labor on Shabbat, which will require calling the doctor, traveling to the hospital, paying for a cab, and being registered. Whatever must be done may be done, but there are ways to do it that are more in keeping with the spirit of Shabbat. One is the principle of shinui, doing something with a different touch so as to symbolize that, despite our actions, we are aware it is Shabbat. For example, dialing the phone with the left hand to call the doctor, if we are right-handed. A friend used to prepare his “hospital hat” each time his wife began her ninth month. Under the grosgrain trim, he placed several folded dollars, enough to cover cab fare and tip to the hospital, so that h
e wouldn’t have to go to his wallet, or receive change from the cabbie. If there are other children, a Shabbat contingency plan should be worked out with neighbors; you can’t call your mother and tell her to drive over and fetch the kids.
DELIVERY
Interestingly, there is no special ritual or blessing for women that marks the act of giving birth. (Could it be that if men had been giving birth all these centuries, some fantastic ritual would have developed by now?) Whatever, it has become a time to savor the miracle in a very personal, individual, and intimate way. Some follow the tradition of reciting after birth the blessing on hearing good tidings:
Baruch ata Adonai Elohainu melech ha’olam hatov vehametiv.
Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe Who is good and does good.
After a safe delivery, the husband-father will recite the Birkat Hagomel for his wife the next time he goes to pray with a minyan. Some women recite this at the Brit. Birkat Hagomel is a blessing of thanks for saving a person from potential danger. It is a reminder that an easy, safe, and successful childbirth is not to be taken for granted.
Baruch ata Adonai Elohainu melech ha’olam ha’go’mel le’chayavim tovot sheh’g’malani kol tov.