Nobody is going to quiz you at a Jewish wedding

You got the invitation, you're genuinely happy about it, and you've spent three weeks quietly wondering if there's something you're supposed to wear, know, or say. The short answer is no. Here's the longer one, which takes four minutes and will make the whole day easier.

What should I wear to a Jewish wedding?

Whatever you'd wear to any wedding at that hour, in that venue. Two situations change the answer: many synagogues and most Orthodox weddings expect shoulders and knees covered, and a few ask that women wear a skirt or dress rather than trousers. If the invitation doesn't say and you're unsure, text the couple. They would far rather answer a one-line question than have you worry for a month.

Two small things nobody mentions. There's a lot of standing, and later a lot of dancing, so shoes matter more here than at most weddings. And if the invitation says the ceremony starts at 8:30 on a Saturday night, that isn't a typo: Shabbat (the Jewish sabbath, which runs Friday sundown to Saturday sundown) has to end before a wedding can begin, and in June that can push a ceremony past nine.

Do I have to wear a kippah?

No. At most Jewish weddings there's a basket of them by the door and anyone who wants one takes one. A kippah (pronounced kee-PAH, the small round head covering; the Yiddish word for the same thing is yarmulke, YAH-muh-kuh) is a gesture of respect, not a claim to be Jewish, and nobody is checking. At an Orthodox wedding men are generally expected to cover their heads, and the basket is the answer there too.

If you're not Jewish and you're wondering whether wearing one is taking something that isn't yours: it isn't, and it reads as the opposite. Guests of every background wear them at Jewish weddings constantly, and the couple will be glad you did. If you'd rather not, that's equally fine. No one will comment, and no one is keeping track.

What does "mazel tov" mean?

Literally "good fortune," in Hebrew and Yiddish. In practice it means "congratulations," and it's the single most useful thing you can say all night. The cue is easy to spot: near the end of most Jewish ceremonies someone steps on a wrapped glass, it breaks, and the entire room shouts "Mazel tov!" at once. If you remember one thing from this page, make it that.

You don't have to time it perfectly. The shout builds over about two seconds and you'll be inside it before you've thought about it. There's more on why the glass gets broken in the guide to breaking the glass, and it's a good thing to know if you're seated next to someone who asks.

What actually happens during the ceremony?

Usually 20 to 45 minutes under a chuppah (pronounced HOO-pah, the canopy on four poles the couple stands beneath, open on every side, standing for the home they're building). Inside that, some mix of blessings over a cup of wine, rings, a reading from the ketubah (the Jewish marriage contract, signed before the ceremony), seven blessings often read aloud by seven different guests, and the glass. Parts will be in Hebrew, and a good officiant explains each piece in a sentence as it happens.

Two things surprise first-timers. Both partners are typically walked down the aisle by both of their parents, so nobody is given away. And there's no fixed script every couple must use, which means the ceremony you're at may look different from the last one you saw. The full running order is in the step-by-step guide if you'd like to read ahead.

When do I stand, sit, or say anything?

Follow the room. You'll usually stand as the couple comes in, sit for most of the ceremony, and stand again at the end if everyone else does. Nobody expects a guest to recite, sing, or respond to anything, and there's no point where someone gets put on the spot.

If you're handed a program it will often tell you. If you're seated near a family who has done this before, watch them. And if you stand up when you should have stayed seated, so did three other people, and the couple is looking at each other anyway.

What about the party afterward?

Food first, and then at some point the hora (HOR-ah, the circle dance). The band starts, the room links arms into circles moving around the couple, and usually the couple gets hoisted up on chairs holding opposite ends of a napkin. It runs loud and chaotic for eight or ten minutes and it's the part most guests remember.

You will get pulled into it. Someone grabs your hand and you're in the circle before you've decided anything, and that is the intended experience. The step is a grapevine, and if you move sideways and hold on you're doing it correctly. Watching from the edge with a drink is also completely fine, and plenty of people do exactly that.

Earlier in the meal there may be a short blessing over wine and one over challah (HAH-lah, the braided bread), after which pieces get torn off and passed around the tables. Nothing is asked of you. Take a piece, eat it, that's the whole of your participation.

Do I need to know Hebrew?

Not a word. Parts of the ceremony will be in Hebrew and possibly Aramaic, and most of the Jewish guests in the room aren't following every line either. Anything the couple wants you to understand gets said in English or printed in the program.

The two syllables worth memorizing are "mazel tov," and you now know exactly when to use them.

Can we send this page to our guests?

Yes, that's what it's built for. Put the link on your wedding website next to the schedule, or send it to the side of the family that's never been to a Jewish wedding, and it saves everyone a dozen carefully worded text messages. Nothing here assumes the reader is Jewish or has ever seen a chuppah.

If you're the couple and you're still looking for someone to run the ceremony, start with officiants in Boston or your own metro, and read what officiants charge before you start making calls.