Busy day yesterday. Jewish New Year. We’re in 5776 now, having evolved before normal people. So I went to synagogue to pray for your sins. (I don’t sin). And pray for the Lord to forgive you (I’ve done nothing to forgive) and to work out how you can be a better person in the forthcoming year (I have scarcely any room for improvement). So other than my unfailing arrogance, smugness and self-delusion, it was a quiet day.

Though I did pause to wonder about this whole ‘God’ thing, wondering, as I do this day every year, if it’ll ever catch on in any significant way.

Because as we agonise over every slight, every slur, every mis-deed, dodgy act, every cause of any minor upset we may have caused anyone, we have just 9 days to sort them all out before The Day of Atonement comes and seals our fate. And people really do agonise about things. Ok, not really sufficient that when the holiday season is over they won’t commit exactly the same acts of immorality, lies, cheating and so forth for the next year, but its good to wonder, in a hypothetical way, how you might improve.

Then I wonder about the potency of it all. Ok, I oversold a used car, stopped short of filling the gearbox with sawdust to stop the rattling, but perhaps made claims that were a bit optimistic. And for that I may get condemned at some level? By a God who lets Jihadi John behead innocent journalists, who tolerates Kim Jong Un’s excesses against his people, who allows ISIS to decimate half a continent and leave its natives drowning in boats in their efforts to escape and allows Chelsea to win the league.

This omnipotent and omniscient God who sees everything, has unlimited power (like SuperMario but with more lives) and yet chooses to do nothing. Ever. His last act of direct intervention was to burn a bush for Moses.

So instead I turned to the Legend and spoke of modern miracles. Spurs first win of the season at Sunderland. Important things. Life-changing. For Spurs fans, at least.

Then we hosted 26 people for our annual Rosh Hashannah dinner. And it was chaos. And it was loud. And we ate too much. And we drank too much. And thus I realised the real meaning of holy days. Its about family. And friends. And fun. God was invited too but I’m not sure if he turned up. He’s a bit quiet these days so might have been in the corner nibbling some chicken. Or maybe not.

Happy New Year

A xxxx