And we wished everybody would have respected social-distancing requirements. I was concerned about community spread. Most friends and relatives who came, did drive-bys. They drove near the yards and called out mazel tov to us from their cars. Unfortunately, too many people got out of their cars.

Eventually, the police arrived to break things up. They were very decent and they were right. They gave us time. They issued warnings on the bullhorn. And they even went away. They were doing us a favor, trying to ensure we all stayed safe. I appreciated that. My 16-year-old son, on the other hand, did not. He thought we were making too big a deal and that I was upping the anxiety by my constant admonitions. The innocence of youth.

Under the chuppah, I said a few words. It was a spontaneous speech, but I strongly felt that this unique moment we found ourselves in required us to reflect on Jewish history and our part in it. A couple that gets married doesn’t do so in a vacuum, I explained, they’re part of Klal Yisrael. They are forming a brand-new link in the chain from Har Sinai. And if this chuppah is under duress, then it should bring us back to thousands of years of our history, when many generations of our people experienced duress.

Most generations were vulnerable to oppression. Many weddings took place as Jewish communities were terrorized by the authorities or the gentile neighbors who formed marauding gangs. The Romans, the Spanish, the Russians, the Germans — and the list goes on. In our case, the police were coming to help us, thank G-d, but historically, this wasn’t always so.

So yes, there was hardship, but getting married and continuing the legacy of Am Yisrael amidst difficulty is something we’ve done through the generations. This chuppah, with its simplicity and cautious joy, bonded us with our noble history.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 689)