So you get married, say, on Tuesday, and during the Jewish ceremony, though anyone can do it really, long as they read hebrew and have a rabbi hanging around, 7 blessings are said to the couple. To, errrr, bless them and keep them holy, and because its nice. And then, after the wedding ‘breakfast’, the blessings are said again. In case the couple have forgotten them (bigger problem for late-life weddings) or need reassurance, or just because its still nice. You can never have too many blessings.

So then what you do is: for the next 7 days the newly weds are taken to various homes where they are forced to receive more blessings. The same 7, in fact, thrust upon them, every night for a week. “You wanna sit and chill at home, just the two of ya; catch up on Love Island or watch re-runs of last season’s Match-of-the-Day (as all newly-weds really want), TOUGH! You’ll bloody well go round to Auntie Mable/Uncle Shlomo/Grandpa Tevya and get bloody blessed!!! Again.”

And last night I became Uncle Shlomo. As we hosted, as they’re called, a ‘sheva b’rucha’ (seven blessings). I’d never been involved in such a thing before. I’ve been to Seven Dials, watched 7 brides for 7 brothers, and Se7en, seen the 7 dwarves, even worn a number 7 shirt, but not a sheva b’rucha.

Thus 23 people were in our garden in the balmy tropics of norf-west Lundun. Even though some of them were actually from… Manchester!!! where they’re more used to polar bears and excessive rain. I haven’t actually spent much time in Manchester and hence I’m guessing a bit but surely can’t be far wrong. And we ate (lots) and we drank (more) and we sang and we blessed brides and grooms.

And looking round as all these people were talking, shouting, laughing (and eating my bloody food) I realised that religion can only take you so far. That the real reason for having such events are even nicer. Firstly, the stated reason, obviously to ‘keep the party going’ for the couple of the moment, and so that for a week they don’t have to cook or even order Deliveroo. But the culture goes deeper still. It bonds the two families who have suddenly (in some cases; very suddenly) become inextricably linked. It elevates ‘meeting someone’ to ‘knowing them’ a little bit more, even sometimes even liking them. EVEN, some-other-times, if they’re from Manchester! How great for the bride and groom to feel all the warmth and wonder of family and friends bonding loudly. And that is a great thing. Well worthy of all those blessings.

Yours blessedly,

A xxxx