"Ketzad merakdim lifnei hakallah!" -- how we dance before the bride! These are the words you'll hear at every Israeli wedding.

The Torah says it is a mitzvah to entertain the chatan (groom) and the kallah (bride).

At a Jewish wedding, the main imperative is not to ensure that the guests have a good time, but that the guests shower the chatan and kallah with simchah, or joy.

Don't fret; the guests thoroughly enjoy themselves, too. I've witnessed time and again -- at my own wedding as well -- that those who attend weddings in Israel rave about the experience.

Israeli weddings have a flavor all their own.

I was married in Jerusalem 13 years ago. My father (my mother had passed away several years prior) made his first pilgrimage to Israel for my wedding. He was marrying off his precious, only daughter to a man he was to meet for the first time at the airport. He was parachuting into a personal simchah that he had no part in planning, and he knew few of the guests. Not a very comfortable situation to be placed in.

On arriving, my father commented that all he had to do with this affair was sign the checks. I offered comfort by reminding him that even including the travel costs, this wedding was less expensive than its American counterpart would have been.

My simchah was somewhat typical.

Since shuls do not have facilities large enough for weddings, a wedding hall or a hall in a hotel is rented for the occasion. Invitations are simple, consisting of the card and the envelope it's mailed in. (I always get confused with all those envelopes I receive with American invitations.)

Rarely will an RSVP card be included. The host gives the caterer an estimate of how many people are expected. So don't be surprised if you receive an invitation a week before the wedding.

An average wedding draws about 300 guests. There's always a nice smattering of baby strollers and children who begged their parents to bring them along. It is not unusual to find some guests who were not formally invited, but graciously received.

Often before the chuppah begins, there is a small array of hors d'oeuvres and soda to tease the guests. Meanwhile, the kallah sits on her throne -- a chair draped in white and decorated with flowers -- as all the women come over to congratulate her and the family.

At the same time, the chatan is in a separate area with the men, preparing the tennaim (engagement contract) and receiving his own congratulations.

Askenazi couples traditionally do not see each other for a week before the wedding. (They do speak on the phone.)

Next comes my favorite part of the evening.

The kallah is sitting on her throne with all the women surrounding her. The band starts playing a sentimental Jewish wedding march and then the chatan appears, followed by the two fathers and all the male guests.

The chatan is led to the kallah and, as their eyes meet for the first time in a week, he places the veil over her face and then is escorted out to take his place under the chuppah.

Minutes later, the kallah is escorted by the two mothers and the female guests, to the chuppah where she encircles the chatan seven times before taking her place beside him. The guests gather around the couple as if they're all part of the family. And I guess they are.

The officiating rabbi then proceeds with the ceremony. Another respected rabbi or guest reads the ketubah (marriage contract) and different people are honored with the recitation of each of the Shevah Brachot (seven blessings). A glass is broken as a reminder of the destruction of the ancient Holy Temple.

No speeches are made; they would be superfluous, as the mood is already charged with emotion.

At the conclusion of an Ashkenazi chuppah, the couple is led amidst singing and dancing into a private room, while the guests move to the main hall for refreshments. Sephardi newlyweds return to the hall with the guests and commence with a round of dancing before the meal begins.

Tables have been spread with an array of salads: eggplant, carrot, cucumber, potato, coleslaw, plus olives and tehina (always!). Liquid refreshments include soft drinks, seltzer and an occasional bottle of liqueur or wine.

About this time in the Ashkenazi wedding, the chatan and kallah decide to vacate their privacy and join the festivities. As they enter the hall, the bands start up in full, klezmer swing. The chatan is pulled into the men's circle and the kallah into hers, and the fun begins.

There are circles and circles of dancing guests, with the couple of honor in the middle. Now the chatan and kallah are perched high on chairs, waving to each other.

When the exuberant dancers tire, they are seated for the meal. First, platters of potatoes (heavy on the grease), rice and cooked carrots or green beans appear. Then a choice of roast chicken, fried schnitzel (a chicken version of breaded veal) or perhaps sliced beef.

When people have almost finished eating, the dancing resumes. (Those who are really hungry stay to finish their meals because before they return, the waiter will have made off with their plates.)

Actually, the music has been serenading the guests throughout the meal, with the volume so loud that it's almost impossible to communicate with the person sitting beside you.

By around 10:30 p.m., the band signals that the time has come to bentch (say grace) and recite the Shevah Brachot again. Israelis tend to be early risers; many of the guests have already left by this time. After grace there's a little more dancing for the stragglers.

That's pretty much how it was at my wedding. And although my father arrived in a rather apprehensive mood, he left beaming with enthusiasm.

Actually, the best word to describe such a wedding is haimish (friendly and homespun). What's not to like?