A Jewish proverb exclaims: “One can’t dance at all weddings,” but as someone who married the same woman twice, and was forced to perform a dangerous Philippine dance in one of them, I’m not sure how accurate the proverb is.
My first wedding was officiated by a nice Jewish Rabbi, who happens to be my Dad. The second was conducted by an ex Catholic priest who left the clergy after falling in love with a local woman.
All in all, both were nice enough weddings, at which I was too excited and too drunk to remember much. But before I confuse you any further, let me shed some light on these events.
Mixed Grill
Here is the thing: my Dad, an orthodox Jew, married my Mom, a proud atheist, born to an Israeli family of the type that religiously devours steak with cheese on Yom Kippur. This means I grew up in a very specifically “mixed” home.
I was raised between two worlds: with my Jerusalem Grandma and Grandpa, with whom we went to synagogue on the Sabbath and sang Hassidic songs at the end of every meal, and my Tel Aviv Grandma and Grandpa with whom we went to the beach on the Sabbath, or drove to the countryside, and in whose home we ate watermelon in front of a black-and-white TV.
How was it, growing up like this? Great, albeit complex. As a child I had the privilege of enjoying the best of both worlds, and “dancing at all weddings.”
It so happened that as an off spring of a mixed marriage in our provincial Israeli micro world, I became a natural candidate for entering a mixed marriage on the global, macro level.
You May Kiss The Bride
In New Jersey, where my wife was born and bred, the Israeli expression of a ‘Mixture Marriage’ sounds strange, anachronistic, and somewhat problematic, as it emits a slight racist odor.
In the U.S. marriages between people of varying races, cultures, or religions, are a daily occurrence. These are called Mixed Marriages to mark the fact that each partner comes from a different cultural background, but the expression carries no value judgment.
For some reason, our little Israeli country is the only democracy in the world that forbids couples of different religions from marrying.
This compelled my partner (who ironically IS Jewish, but this is another story) and I, to get legally married in New Jersey, with the added bonus of the ex-priest saying to me, at the end of the ceremony: “You may kiss the bride,” just like in the movies.
I’m not complaining. Admittedly, the situation I found myself in, as a citizen in my own country who can’t marry his beloved due to political power struggles and old national phobias, was somewhat annoying. But still, you get more gifts and checks in two weddings than you get in one.
We Are All Mixing It Up!
Let every proud Moroccan Israeli father, and every Polish Israeli mother, know: every marriage is a “mixed” marriage. Even if your son married the girl next door! Here is the scoop: two people fall in love, get married, and then what? Right, they get mixed!
Their families mix, their destinies mix, their bodily fluids mix, as do their genes, and their lives. There’s nothing we can do about it: people like to mix with one another, and often they tend to fall in love with the ‘Other.’
In regards to mixed marriages, I believe that our society’s exclusive and defensive tendencies, expressed by our laws, are dangerous ones.
I believe that those who fear the ‘Other,’ or separate themselves too much, will end up all alone. It is time for us to feel secure and safe enough in our own identity, and to create frameworks that can be joined naturally and peacefully by those wishing to unite with our tribal, spiritual, and national identities.
The younger generation’s laws of the heart will always be stronger than the rigid cerebral laws of older generations. If we can take this in, we will create a better, calmer, more just world in regards to mixed marriages.
On an individual level this demands that we each stop feeling afraid and defensive, and open up to the power of love. What is there to be afraid of? The worst that can happen is having a checkered kid.
Translation: DeAnna L’am