Do we celebrate Shabbat, Shavuot or Jubilee?

Republicans and shul lovers may shrug at such timetabling issues. But for those of us who don’t want the milestone to pass without marking the occasion, what is to be done? This, after all, is about tradition (tradition!). Logistically, how can we resolve the limitations of preparing for and celebrating Shabbat and two days of Yom Tov with nobly demonstrating our allegiance to the Crown?

Make no mistake; as patriotic Jews, it is vital that we show appreciation for the Queen’s magnificent public service. We already say a prayer for her wellbeing every Shabbat. Now we have an opportunity to rejoice in her record-breaking reign.

So what to do, we all wonder on the neighbours’ WhatsApp group? After all, as residents of our little north Manchester cul-de-sac, we have form when it comes to royal festivities: street parties for both the Golden and Diamond Jubilee. On both occasions, thanks to the timing, we could indulge in carnival merriment without being hamstrung by Shavuot restrictions.

And so we festooned the street with bunting, cranked up the stereo, invited a Mr Blobby lookalike (don’t ask) to join us and hired a bouncy castle to keep the kids happy while we got tipsy. Meanwhile, a trestle table positioned down the spine of the street heaved under the weight of royal baking, hemishe style: apple strudel, cichels, strawberries and parve Rich’s Whip (well, you never know who might have necked a quick flaishik lunch before the start of the festivities).

How then to service a platinum jamboree? Friday — the Jubilee bank holiday — is ruled out thanks to the vast amounts of shopping, cooking and prepping for the days ahead.

As for doing a street party on shabbat and Yom Tov, well, despite our eruv, a minefield still lies ahead in terms of halacha. While the rest of the country can enjoy the low hanging fruits of the Jubilee weekend, not least pubs staying open until 1am, as well as Brian May lasting out the tunes on the palace roof, our hands are tied. We can’t play music or run to the shops for ice lolly refills. And anyway, isn’t a Holy Day street party a little, well, un Shabbos-dik? (Asking for a frum friend.)

In the end, we came to a very Jewish conclusion. The patriotic desire is there but — feh! — let’s hedge our bets. If the forecast looks kind, we’ll get together in one of our gardens on Shabbat evening, sink a few cheeky G&Ts and raise a toast to her Maj. We might even crack open the Palwin as a boozy nod to our two colliding worlds.

For once, we won’t need to get into that Jewish cultural panic about food. All you need is love, and a few crisps and nuts. Not least since for those who’ve had a cholent lunch, the stomach will still be in retreat. Then we’ll pass the time reminiscing about jubilee celebrations past until the moon rises and Shabbat slips inexorably into the first night of Shavuot.
Sure, it would be so easy to let the platinum jubilee pass us by. Or to draw battle lines between “their Yom Tov” and “ours”. But with good will, determination and a little imagination there’s no reason why our Shabbat should keep us from celebrating the reign of our monarch. Just a pity we won’t be able to take pictures.

Say cheesecake!