How to Conduct an Alternative Wedding Ceremony
Ohad Pele, 2025
Note: I wrote this article as someone who was ordained as a Jewish Rabbi, and conducted many alternative ceremonies, mainly for Jewish people who desired to take responsibility for their wedding ceremony and yet to keep some Jewish flavour to it. I did marry once a Jewish man with a Muslim-Sufi woman from India, a couple of Turkish beloveds from Muslim background and a Swedish fairy with one of my dear friends who grew up Mormon. So, this article can serve all kinds of couples, beyond the Jewish people.
From a dry contractual perspective, the traditional Jewish wedding is nothing more than an agreement made between a man and a woman, in which the woman takes upon herself absolute monogamous commitment, the man in return provides her with financial security, and together they plan to build a "faithful house in Israel."
If the woman doesn't love her husband – this might be a problem for domestic harmony, but not necessarily grounds for divorce. However, if she has sex, even once, with someone else, Jewish law requires them to divorce immediately, and in addition, she also "loses her ketubah" – meaning she forfeits the financial security that was promised to her. In ancient times, they might even have put her to death for this, under the laws of "sotah" (suspected adulteress) or "adulterous woman."
In contrast, if the man has sex with someone else, he doesn't violate Torah law, which fundamentally permits polygamy. At most, he violates later rabbinical ordinances and therefore receives rebuke. There were periods when they would even flog him in the rabbinical court. But they don't force the couple to divorce because of this, and certainly no death penalty hangs over his head. Moreover – the expectation is that his wife will continue to have sexual relations with him, as part of her obligations as a kosher woman.
However, if he doesn't financially support his family with the money available to him – this is a serious matter, and the rabbinical court will force him to do so — because this is the essence of the traditional Jewish marriage contract: sexual exclusivity in exchange for financial security.
A brief examination of the traditional blessing that the rabbi recites at the beginning of the Jewish marriage ceremony will explain much: "Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has forbidden us the betrothed women, and permitted us the married women through (the ceremony of) Chuppah and Kiddushin. Blessed are You, Lord, who sanctifies His people Israel through Chuppah and Kiddushin."
Reading comprehension question: Who is the "us" that the blessing refers to? Answer: the congregation of men. God forbade "us" (the men) from having sexual relations with betrothed women (note, not with single women, but with betrothed women), and permitted "us" (again, the men) to have relations with women married "to us" (the men, of course) through the ceremony of Chuppah and Kiddushin. Since one of us has managed to arrange kosher sex for himself — we bless the occasion and celebrate it with him.
This contract probably had some logic and relevance in a period when women couldn't support themselves financially, and financial security was a matter of actual survival. Even today, for those who desire it, this is a legitimate contract, and those who wish to do so are invited to conduct a Chuppah ceremony "according to the law of Moses and Israel" at the rabbinate.
However, I humbly believe that we should offer today a new framework for romantic partnership, a sacred, deep, and egalitarian framework that will bring lovers together, out of mutual commitment worthy of what truly exists between them. In the present article, I will try to suggest some guiding principles for such a marriage ceremony.
Why a Ceremony at All?
A wedding is a rite of passage, transitioning a person from being an individual existing alone, to a state where they become part of a larger unit, which is the couple and the family. Such transition points require ceremony, ritual, an occurrence that transcends the ordinary and marks this great transition in the soul.
I see the wedding ceremony as an alchemical melting pot: into this melting pot we place two separate components, stir, whisper blessings and heat with the enthusiasm of the soul, pray with good heart and invite the inspiration of the Divine Presence. What emerges on the other side of the ceremony is a "family." No longer two separate individuals, but two organs (distinct and differentiated from each other. it's important that they remain differentiated and not create a mesh of codependency) of one great whole, greater than the sum of its parts.
Outline for an Alternative Marriage Ceremony
So, how do you create an alternative ceremony? First of all — ask yourselves deep questions, and answer them with complete honesty, each separately, preferably in writing.
Here's a sample list of suggested questions:
If I were to compare our bonding ceremony to something from nature — what would it resemble? (Metaphors help much more than formal formulations. They touch directly on the archetypal story we live in our soul's world).
What are our sacred values, which will constitute the core values of our family, and upon which we will raise our children, if we have them?
Difficulties in interpersonal relationships are part of the fabric of living together. What will we do when we encounter difficulty?
Are there any "rules" and mutual expectations in our life system together? If so, what are they?
What constitutes for me a "yellow flag" – meaning a sign that something is wrong and requires attention? What shall we do when this happens?
What constitutes for me a red line that must not be crossed, and if it is crossed, God forbid, by either of us, this could be grounds for dissolving the marriage?
What are the things that are important to me today (this may change over time) in order to be "sane"? How would I like to ensure that I can give myself these things and take care of my well being in order to be a better person and a better partner?
What happens if one of us loses interest (temporarily?) in sexual relations with the other? What are our expectations from the other in such a situation?
What level of intimacy with other people poses no problem at all? When do we need to "report" this to the other? And what level of intimacy with others requires an open conversation between us, in which we'll agree on our continued path — with that person, without them, or without us...?
Do we want to create a regular ritual of re-examining our shared path, every X time? Perhaps in the week before our wedding anniversary each year? What will be the questions we ask ourselves in each such ritual?
What are the rituals, symbols, visual and musical symbols that will support our wedding ceremony, so that the ceremony we conduct will express these values and meanings?
In what forum will the ceremony be held to support its deep meaning? (Remember you can always have a ceremony in a more private format and a party in a more public format). Who are the people that their presence in our ceremony is important to us, and maybe we even want them to take some part in the ceremony?
You can, of course, add to or subtract from this list of questions.
Recommendation: Avoid phrasing in the language of permitted or forbidden, especially regarding the other person. Sanctify the other's deep freedom to be who and what they are. At the same time, you can certainly set a boundary for yourself (not for the other!), and say for example: "If such and such happens, I won't be able to continue XXX as before, and will need to XXX." Say this not as a threat to the other, not as punishment, and not as an attempt to control them, but as recognition of who and what you are and the boundaries appropriate for your well being, while leaving free space for the other to decide on their actions with awareness of the expected consequences. Every action in life has inevitable consequences (driving a car burns fuel. Eating ice cream raises blood sugar levels. Binge-watching series until 3 AM will give you a zombie brain the next day). It's worth knowing what are the expected consequences of our actions in the relationship space too, so we can make better decisions.
After each of you has taken time and answered these questions separately, come together, read the answers and discuss the differences between them. This can be a charged moment, and it's worth approaching it with attention, full presence, compassion and curiosity.
There's no way your answers will be identical. We are different people, and that's part of the beauty. Different or even contradictory answers are not necessarily a problem. Every disagreement is nothing but a place for consciousness expansion, for deeper recognition of myself and the other, and an invitation for shared creativity (see my article on Three Ways to Resolve Conflict: Traffic light, Roundabout or Tunnel).
I recommend doing this process with close accompaniment from a wise and experienced person, in the space of therapy or couples counseling. It's worth investing time and money in this, no less than in the wedding dress.
Based on the unified answers, it will be possible to build a special ceremony tailored to who and what you are and envision for your sacred union.
Things Worth Paying Attention to When Planning a Ceremony:
Clothing: Color, texture, and atmosphere. Every outfit conveys something specific. What would you want to convey in your sacred union ceremony? There are couples who married underwater in diving suits. There are couples who married in full or partial nudity (without inviting the aunts) and there are those who sew themselves suits of decent people. What outfit suits you?
Audience: Is there an audience for the ceremony and what size? Is the audience passive or participating in the ceremony itself? Is it more of an audience, a congregation or a community?
Music: Whether recorded or live, what musical pieces will accompany the ceremony itself? Silence is also music. Some couples created a procession of barefoot hippies with drums and trumpets. There are couples who play Kirtan music, and there are those who choose the wedding march. What moves you?
Chuppah: The Jewish Chuppah, literally a canopy, is a symbol of the shared roof that the couple enters together, and it also constitutes a kind of "surrounding light," or energetic aura within which the ceremony takes place. Who stands under the chuppah? In the past, parents were a significant part of the ceremony, because they would transfer the children from their authority to their own authority. Should your parents stand under the chuppah? Maybe just come in to bless and leave? What suits you? What is the place of children from previous relationships and what is the place of your puppy?
Ceremony officiant: Who will conduct the ceremony? Who will hold space? Be careful not to take someone who turns the whole event into their show and then hands out business cards. The ceremony is for you and the ceremony officiant must be in service to the space. Is it a man or a woman? Or maybe both together? Is it some religious authority? A family lawyer with a pink form and three copies, or simply a friend you respect?
Ketubah: The traditional Ketubah anchors the marriage contract in a binding financial agreement (sexual exclusivity on the woman's part in exchange for financial security). Everything is written in Aramaic so Hebrew-speaking Israelis don't understand what's said in it and it sounds good because Aramaic has a great sound. But the very idea of creating a Ketubah is a good idea. A document signed by both parties (not just the groom as in the traditional one) that details the intentions and mutual commitments that constitute the authentic agreement between the partners. You can write this in Aramaic too if you like the sound.
Witnesses: Are there male and female witnesses who sign your ketubah (in the traditional ketubah only Sabbath-observant Jewish men can sign as witnesses. Everyone else is disqualified from testimony. Oh well...)? Who are the people you'd want to bear witness and carry your ceremony as living testimony in their hearts? How do they sign the ketubah? In handwriting or fingerprint? In ink, acrylic or their blood?
Location: Is your ceremony in a closed hall or in nature's embrace? Dawn-Cherie and I married, for example, by a spring in the Upper Galilee mountains. To reach the ceremony location, people had to descend through a cedar grove where cute little goblins (community children) waited for them, and to enter the ceremony area our court jesters conducted an absurd security check on everyone. The party was held afterward in a nearby event space.
Powerful symbols: Rings, four directions of the world, four elements, central altar, symbolic gates, wine cup, seed, blood and tears, traditional food or psilocybin mushrooms mixed in rich chocolate nuggets — what works for you? What constitutes a significant part of the symbolism and cosmology of your sacred union, and how will you make this present during the ceremony? At our wedding, four friends held colorful flags for the four directions of the world and blessed the space. A spiral of lit candles marked the path we walked together to the center of the sacred. I blew the shofar and our brother, the Peruvian shaman who conducted the ceremony blew a conch shell and let us smoke from his chanupa ("peace pipe"). She gave me an open silver bracelet (to symbolize a bond that has freedom in it) and I gave her a ring that rotates on another ring, again, to symbolize the free movement in our relationship. There was a couple who invited us all to an all-night Ayahuasca ceremony in the desert. Be creative. This is your ceremony, after all!
How to end: Breaking the glass symbolizes the end of the traditional Jewish ceremony. The deep intention behind this is beautiful — to remember the broken and destroyed places in our society and the world and to pray for them even in times of joy. What will symbolize the end of your ceremony though? And what will you do afterward? In the traditional chuppah they accompany the couple to the "unity room" where, in ancient times, they would have sexual relations for the first time, and show all the aunts the sheet with blood drops that would prove the bride's virginity. I personally favor the idea of going together to a room and being with yourselves a bit before you turn to all the people, kisses and photos. Choose what suits you and make sure the audience knows what's happening and why, so they can support you in this transition.
I'll stop at ten points. It's a good number with rich tradition.
I'll add just one thing that my late teacher and rabbi R' Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, taught me to add to the marriage agreements in the many chuppahs I conducted:
Not only is it important to agree on how to dissolve this marriage bond when you want to (what's called a "Get" in Jewish tradition), but it's also important to talk about what will happen if, God forbid, one of you disappears for a long period, or refuses to give a "get" to the other? The recommendation is that after such and such time (a year? three years? you choose) the marriage bond is void, and the person left behind is free to create a new family and remarry. May we not know troubles, as the aunts say in their wisdom, and may we not need this.
May it be with good fortune. Hamsa hamsa. Tfu tfu.
May love dwell in your home, and deepen with the years, like good old wine.