Weddings are major celebrations in Israel and across the world, but the Israeli wedding has a particularly unique experience: Your wedding could be postponed or canceled for reasons far beyond your control. From rocket attacks to wartime restrictions, what should be a day of joy can quickly become a logistical nightmare.
Still, many couples have adapted to the crisis, choosing to postpone or cancel their weddings – but not all. Some have opted to simplify their plans, not waiting for the perfect venue or a guest list of hundreds. Instead, they’ve held intimate, last-minute affairs in backyards, homes, and safe zones, embracing love amid chaos.
Mazel tov Brooke and Asaf!
For Brooke Weinbaum and Asaf Cohen, residents of Ramat Gan, the decision was clear: They would continue with the wedding. The couple, both in their 30s, had originally planned a grand wedding at the Tira Al Hayam venue in Ashdod, with 170 guests gathered by the sea for a celebration of love. But as the Israel-Iran conflict escalated, their plans unraveled.
The first signs of disruption came late one Thursday night, just hours after a celebration with friends who had flown in from the US. As they returned home, a nationwide “extreme alert” message signaled that Israel was expecting a large-scale attack. By Friday afternoon, it became clear their dream wedding would not go ahead.
Rather than postpone indefinitely, they pivoted. “My parents, brother, and friends were here for their first time in 12 years… and I just thought, oh my God, now I need to worry about them,” Weinbaum said. “I said, we have to get married. My family is here. We can’t not get married… I just want to be done with it. We called the rabbi, the makeup artist, the photographer, and they all said, ‘Let’s do it.’”
The couple held a small ceremony in a private apartment overlooking the Mediterranean in Tel Aviv. With family and a few friends present, they broadcast the event via Zoom to 80 virtual guests. “It was stressful and insane. We just really prayed that we would not have any sirens during our ceremony,” she added.
“My vows were about perspective – that at the end of the day, we can have the nicest, craziest party, but it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, the material things don’t matter,” Weinbaum told The Jerusalem Post. “What matters is our love for each other and the strength and resilience of our relationship.”
Wedding planner weighs in
This kind of improvisation has become familiar to Yana Andreev, a wedding planner at Israel-based Craspedia Events, who told the Post, “There’s a few options when it hits the fan like this… If the couple decides to cancel the wedding, it becomes a little more complicated – you cannot cancel. So yeah, that’s like one of the hardest things.”
According to Andreev, the financial stakes are immense. “The first down payment for the venue is around NIS 15,000-NIS 20,000. If the wedding is canceled and the couple chooses not to postpone, they are losing this – all of it.”
Still, she emphasizes that planning doesn’t stop in the face of uncertainty. “Hire at least a coordinator. This is a very stressful situation to deal with. A lot of times, brides don’t really know what’s happening.”
Andreev recalls a wedding where a missile hit a building adjacent to a venue just days before the event: “We had 230 people from England that all flew here… and we had to basically schedule the wedding within two days in a completely different location. It was a green wedding turned beach wedding overnight.”
For couples like Weinbaum and Cohen, that kind of adaptability turned a crisis into something meaningful. “We thought this would be a really happy moment in the middle of ‘War Number One,’” Weinbaum reflected. “But we needed to do it with my family here. What a waste it would be if they came and we didn’t even get married.”
Andreev agrees: “Understand that we’re all in this together… Everybody wants, even more than you, that the wedding will happen. We’re not going against you.”
According to Andreev, the wedding insurance that many people from outside of Israel are used to does not exist here. However, she urged the importance of closely reviewing the contract of the event, so as to not run into war-related issues.
With hotel venues often lacking proper bomb shelters (miklat or mamad), Andreev advises couples to choose spaces with accessible safety zones: “If you absolutely must do it, find a space that has a proper safe zone… and definitely do a small ceremony within the zone.”
For now, newlyweds Weinbaum and Cohen plan to have a larger celebration when the time is right. They still got their seaside wedding, though it looks a little different than expected.
“Was it our dream celebration? Absolutely not. It’s an extremely bittersweet day. But the show must go on,” Weinbaum said. Until the time comes for a larger celebration, they remain grounded by the deeper meaning behind their wedding and the resilience that carried them through.
As Andreev puts it: “The love is not gone. You’re still going to get married. It’s just the type of wedding that might change.”
Weinbaum and Cohen were not the only ones to continue forward with their special day. Milka Biton, a 67-year-old new immigrant from Mexico, married her now-husband in a wedding celebration that continued uninterrupted despite the sound of sirens during the event.
Biton, who made aliyah in February, tied the knot with her partner in a wedding in Petah Tikva. When the sirens sounded, the guests, including the bride in her wedding dress, took shelter and then returned to the dance floor, resuming the celebration as planned.
“It was one of the happiest moments of my life,” Biton said. “Even when it seems difficult for our beloved country – we didn’t give up on the celebration. We danced together, and then the siren sounded. We went down to the shelter, waited, and then returned to dance. All the neighbors, friends, everyone was there – Am Yisrael Chai!”
The Aliyah and Integration Ministry praised Biton’s determination and spirit, stating: “Malka’s story exemplifies more than anything the ability of integration, resilience, and optimism of olim [immigrants] even in times when reality isn’t necessarily comfortable. We’re proud and thrilled with her. Mazal tov!”