Retro bride: a sewing pattern from the 70sWhile your taste has probably evolved beyond a veil made of a pillowcase and dandelions, the DIY spirit of childhood can still apply to a grown-up wedding. Here are some tips for the crafty brides (and grooms) out there:

• From Martha Stewart, a custom made pouch to hold the glass that the groom smashes at the end of the ceremony.
• The Knot explains the basics of creating a homemade floral centerpiece.
• Take DIY a step further by sewing your own wedding dress using these vintage patterns.
• Finally, here’s a guide to making your own chuppah, and new uses for the canopy after the wedding.

I have a bunch of friends headed down the aisle in the next year, and they’ve started discussing which rabbi they want to marry them. This is a hot topic, and it always makes me a little crazy when people complain that they just don’t like the rabbi from their home synagogue and they don’t know many other appropriate rabbis. I generally keep it to myself, but here’s the big secret: you don’t need a rabbi to marry you.

A Jewish wedding can be facilitated by pretty much any Jew you want. Have a religious best friend? An elder from the community who you respect? A college roommate? It can really by anyone, because Jewish weddings don’t even really require much facilitation. Getting married according to Jewish law just requires saying some blessings and drinking some wine. Of course it’s great to have someone there to say something meaningful, and to discuss just what marriage means in Judaism, but if your Great Uncle Herb is an amazing public speaker who you know will say something amazing, there’s no reason he can’t be your “rabbi.” I, for instance, decided long ago that if I get married I’d like the ceremony to be officiated by a close family friend who happens to be a doctor. While I’m sure there will be rabbis on the guest list, there won’t be any under the chuppa (unless I marry a rabbi, I guess. But that seems unlikely).
Can't Find a Rockin' Rabbi?: Don't sweat it
You don’t need a rabbi for a Bar or Bat Mitzvah, either. It’s the big secret of the religious world, but even without a ceremony on the bima and a party involving champagnes snowballs and everyone you know dancing to YMCA, you become a bar or bat mitzvah anyway. It’s nice to have someone talk about how awesome your kid is, but there’s no reason that person can’t be his Hebrew teacher, or her best friend’s mother.

Do you need a rabbi at a bris? Nope. You need a Mohel, somebody who knows what he’s doing, but rabbis are strictly optional.

And how about at a funeral? Are rabbis necessary? Not at all. There’s no prescribed service for a Jewish funeral, and though you do need someone to lead prayers, anyone who’s capable of doing so, from a cantor to your sister Leah, is eligible. Eulogies certainly don’t need to be performed by a rabbi, and I find it somewhat strange when they’re performed by a rabbi who clearly had little interaction with the deceased. It makes much more sense to be eulogized by someone you love.

Anyway, my point in all this is that if you don’t like your rabbi, or if you can’t find a rabbi that you like, you really don’t NEED one. Is it a good idea to have a rabbi to consult? I guess so, but I don’t usually have a rabbi-crush the way Laurel does.

Last year there was a long debate on Jewschool about what indie minyans and all the new alternative spiritual Jewish communities are doing with rabbis, since most of them are lay-led and don’t have their own rabbinical staff.

Ultimately, people want rabbis to be teachers, not officiants. I know some amazing rabbis, and I know some lame rabbis, just the way I know some amazing Judaic studies teachers, and some crappy ones. The best kind of rabbi is one who is such a good teacher that you want him or her to teach at your wedding, bar mitzvah, funeral, baby naming or funeral. You want to hear his or her words of wisdom, not because being a member of the clergy is important, but because you seek wisdom, and this person has it. So stop stressing about the annoying rabbi at your parents’ shul and find yourself a rabbi. If she happens to have smicha, that’s great, but not necessary.

Wedding Dress: Redefined.

Am I allowed to do this? Use Faithhacker to give a plug to a friend who is not Jewish, but is doing a KICKASS non-Jewish project that will totally rock your world? More to the point, can I find a way to somehow connect my friend and her non-Jewish project to Judaism so I don’t feel too bad about it?

Hmmm?

Never hurts to try...

With spring coming on, I’ve been thinking about weddings lately, and it’s a pretty tricky topic for me. I’ve gone on the record in the past as having some pretty strong opinions about the stupid ideas people have about weddings.

But for religious Jews, weddings are (in theory) meaningful religious ceremonies, and for secular Jews they contribute much to our sense of cultural identity and community.

Just where do you fall on the spectrum? What IS a Jewish wedding to you? Is it about a big party and a spinning chair, or do you really feel you’re going to be married within a faith? Do you plan to observe the religious guidelines for marriage?

Just how Jewish do you want your wedding to be? Do you plan to fast? I didn’t even know about some of this stuff!

I mean, what does it mean to go through the more common motions of those traditions—to sign a kettubah, stand under a Chuppah, or break a glass—if you don’t believe in the religious aspects of symbols? Why do it?

And perhaps the bigger question… for those of you who DON’T buy into the traditional religious rituals of the faith, how would YOU go about celebrating your marriage in a way that was more meaningful to you?

Would you create your own traditions, or borrow from other cultures? Would you forgo the rituals altogether? How can we—who are not traditionalists—make a wedding about something more than cake and expensive clothing?

My friend Sonya has done just that! She is infusing the wedding dress (that didn’t mean much to her) with a TON of meaning. She is using the dress to carve out space in her marriage for herself as an artist, a woman, and a member of a much larger community. Which makes the dress (she didn’t care about) mean the world to her. Pretty damn cool, right?

So now… how can we do that? How can we fight the impulse to just spend a heap of dough and fight with our mothers, before jetting off to Mali for a honeymoon?

And the bonus question: Can you find the pictures of ME on Sonya’s site (there are 2 of em)?