We don’t sin. Jews, that is. Fact. Because today, Yom Kippur, the ‘day of atonement’ is all about, well, atoning. But not for sins. I endured 2 hours this morning of an ‘explanatory service’, the nearest I can actually bring myself, if not to synagogue, then to ‘prayer’. Don’t do praying. Unless Spurs are taking a penalty. Explanatory is different. More philosophical. More differenter. And I learned that the hebrew word used in all the prayers for this most holy of days is not ‘sin’. Its a hebrew word that very loosely can be translated as that, but the word ‘sin’ is just too specific, culturally. Too English. Which is a Christian language. Thus cannot translate middle-eastern concepts easily. Its more a ‘missed target’, an accidental sin. Ooops. And I was relieved at that pedantic little quirk. More because its interesting how all these things came about. Then I went out and did my ‘security’ which is great. I’m outside in the sunshine protecting those who feel they need to beat their chests and plead to God himself (you’re only allowed to do that on Yom Kippur really and NOT when you’re just driving round the North Circular and get cut up by a Nissan Micra drifting across the lanes) for eternal forgiveness.

Because I’m really not ‘a believer’. Nor a ‘Belieber’. Though I believe in Justin more because he’s kind’a there. Normally in prison. But definitely real. And as a cynical skeptic I need ‘proof’. Let God prove his existence to me. Personally.

And I went round to Lila’s and Spurs were 3-0 up at Huddersfield!!!! Holy shit!!!! I thought, there really IS a God!

So now I’m gonna go the whole 9 yards and grow my beard really long, dye it grey (as if) and wear silly clothes. Then maybe Spurs will even win at Wembley too. Who knows how far this thing could go?

But first I have to get through the day. A 25 hour fast. No food, no nuffink for a day and an hour. But its not a penance. Its not a punishment. Its because today (thankfully only today) you enter a plane of such intense spirituality that you simply ignore your basic, normal bodily demands. Unless the toilet’s involved, then you concede. Otherwise synagogue would be a bit of a mess. You become, like an angel. All spirit and no testicles.

So here’s the moral dilemma for yom kippur: would I become super-religious if it would guarantee Spurs would win every week? Hmmmmm. God’s definitely a Spurs fan anyway; he doesn’t need me.

Happy Yom Kippur

A xxxx