Want a Celebrity to Officiate Your Wedding? Get Your Wallet Ready

Even before Yair Lapid dreamed of becoming the Minister of Finance, he had already found a nice side gig as a wedding officiant. Halakhically speaking, there was no chuppah and no kiddushin, but as a social statement, Lapid would appear majestically beside the bride and groom and lead the ceremony—without a kippah on his head, of course.

Nowadays, as he paves his way to the Prime Minister's seat following the next elections, Lapid is a bit too busy to dabble frequently in his wedding officiating hobby. But don’t worry: the trend Lapid started has attracted quite a few celebrities who offer a 'friendly alternative' to weddings through the rabbinate.

Admit it, it sounds incredibly idealistic. Among certain secular public segments, there’s a fondness for criticizing the rabbinate. When they want to bring out the ultimate horror stories, wedding tales come up: someone was deeply offended when asked for proof of their Jewish identity (after all, their parents came from a country that sent many non-Jews here), another's heart broke when the rabbinate clerk didn’t smile enough, and someone else simply didn't connect with the energy of the rabbi who came to marry them. In such an atmosphere, it’s no wonder alternatives are found. If once the synonym for an alternative wedding was 'Cyprus,' today it's 'a wedding with a celebrity.' At the beginning of the decade, this trend received enthusiastic media coverage: why marry with an irrelevant rabbi when you can have Gila Almagor, Avri Gilad, or, at worst, Avrum Burg officiate your ceremony?

The first articles describing the phenomenon were enveloped in a halo of heroism: we were asked to believe these celebrities were motivated by a great social mission, faith in the sanctity of a partnership that does not seek to be sanctified in a Jewish wedding, and a simple desire to 'help.' When these celebrities were asked to be interviewed about their wedding and kiddushin services, they made sure to clarify they weren't in it for the money. Not at all. How dare you think such a thing.

Well, for a minority of them, it certainly isn't about money. Avrum Burg, for instance, is known never to take payment for officiating an alternative wedding. It's not hard to believe: it makes sense that someone who declared himself 'a proud Hellenist' would forgo money to promote his agenda. But not every celebrity is a former Speaker of the Knesset, so not everyone rushes to waive their fees. They just want it clear that the despicable money really isn't what's important. Here. "Of course, the money isn’t the issue," one explained over six years ago. "I mean, it also is, but it's a service that's a mission. A mission that I profit very well from, but it's fun." How well, you ask? Back in 2011, we were informed that celebrities indeed settle for less: "Most do it for free; some charge a few hundred to a few thousand shekels," wrote a journalist with touching faith in humanity. But now we're in 2017. So, what's the price list if you refuse a rabbi and prefer someone whose face is well known from TV?

A recent article in Ynet explored exactly this issue. "The Celebrity Wedding Officiant Price List," the headline announced. And what a list it is! Just murky A-grade water with mud that meets all standards. If you thought you’d find C-list celebrities satisfied with mere drinks money, you're mistaken. Avrum Burg, it turns out, is far less popular among the marrying public than, say, actor Eran Zarhovich. This, despite the fact that having the latter officiate your wedding will cost you 15,000 shekels, according to Ynet.

Remember the once-popular claim about the audacity of rabbis who come to marry and receive payment? The rabbinate forbade all its rabbis from taking payment for officiating weddings years ago precisely to stop those claims. But when it comes to an actor, not a rabbi, it turns out pockets do indeed open.

An Israeli wedding is an expensive affair, as is known. A wise person once said that if the American dream is to marry and live in a suburban house with two kids and a dog, the Israeli dream is simply to get married. In a grand and eye-popping ceremony as possible. With a photographer that costs the same as two years' rent, a videographer who will turn the wedding into a Hollywood movie, a hall—excuse me, an event garden—that sports stars use to wed, and a menu that could feed at least one third-world country. In the ocean of money spilled to fund the glamorous wedding celebration, ten or fifteen thousand shekels for the master of the official ceremony is almost small change. The startling thing is that it’s small change only for a non-religious celebrity who sees your wedding as just another performance on the schedule, not when it’s a rabbi who genuinely believes in the sanctity of the chuppah and kiddushin they conduct.

And as for the celebrity officiants? There's no reason to judge them harshly for their fees. If weddings in Israel are an expensive business, being a celebrity in Israel is not a very profitable business. In a country where many celebrities end the month only thanks to participating in launches—the official side hustle of Israeli celebrities—you can’t expect them not to hitch a ride on the new trend.

We can expect all of us, however, to be less naive. After decades of scathing satire at the expense of marrying rabbis, where can one find a bit of humor at the expense of the latest celebrity who brought Tzuf and Tsufit to the covenant of marriage?