Katie's wedding

We all danced to Gaz Mayall's band, The Trojans last night (who could resist it?), following a delicious dinner - itself following a magical reception in the gardens of Sudeley Castle. The rain stopped just in time, and evening sunshine filtered through onto the speech-givers. Somehow Katie and Rob deserved nothing less than a nine-piece ensemble of such sheer verve and excellence. (From left in my photograph: Antoin O'Doherty, Zoe Devlin and Gaz himself)

End May, I WILL!

Into a family that's pretty full of Williams already, comes another yesterday - when Caroline's cousin and Goddaughter Harriet married her Will. The final hymn was "Guide me, O Thou great Redeemer", composed by William Williams, and earlier we sang lustily "Tell out, my soul", where "stubborn wills are put to flight." Surely no accident, coming from a stable so redolent - pungent even? - with japes.

Altogether a glorious wedding. And this morning, it has, for the first time this year, been sunny enough for us to have breakfast outside.

Small world postscript - I thought I recognised the rather good-looking man escorting the groom's mother: he turns out to be my Goddaughter Lucy's father-in-law. And the grooms' step-mother is someone I used to sail with half a century ago.

"Thurs. wed."

We don't usually read The Times, but in Cornwall it was bought by our hostess. I happened to glance at the Forthcoming Marriages in Thursday's edition, and spotted the announcement of Katie and Rob's. (He's Dewhurst: hence - doh! - the anagrammatic heading.) Prior notice had in fact been given us of this happy news; and we heard how Rob, a while before popping the question, had flown over from Australia - to question the pop, who was sunning himself in a deckchair on the lawn.

This photograph of Katie and brother Pad was taken on the same lawn almost 24 years ago to the day.

"A woman of substance"

Two of the leading characters of Barbara Taylor Bradford's novel are Edwin and the eponymous Emma, and yesterday was a perfect day for another Emma and Edwin's marriage - in the most idyllic of Cotswold settings, sheep joining in the chorus of approval for the speeches.

Attending such a magnificent celebration, you gained the impression that this Emma (whom we have known since the day she was born) had also become a woman of some substance. By which I am far from implying anything about her physique: no bride could have looked more gracefully slender. But Emma is now a formidable lady, having set up an operation in Dubai, and now married someone, himself clearly a man of substance. This we could tell, not just from the predominance of jeunesse dorée, nor from the words spoken by the Best Man (one of three), but also from the superlative food and wines on offer.

One of the readings in the marriage service was from Captain Corelli's Mandolin: "Love is... both an art [which you have to work at] and a fortunate accident".

The Elvetham

The Elvetham, now a hotel hard by the A30 in Hampshire, was a private house till the early '50s when it was sold to ICI. Its then owner was the grandson of the man for whom my great-grandfather (Arthur Henry Davis) was the Agent, the 6th Lord Calthorpe. Pre-Calthorpe, it belonged to the Seymours, and now of course I recall its mention in Wolf Hall, or perhaps its sequel.

Anyway, we arrived there at Midday today for my nephew's wedding, a sumptuous affair. It was good to catch up with members of the family I'd not met before, such as this rather jolly great-nephew. Both being in the oil industry, the couple's friends had flown in from all quarters of the globe.

One civil ceremony is not necessarily like another: this for instance was more "This is your wife" than was Leo's and Mini's in Cheltenham Register Office. It was at length followed by a wedding breakfast (starting at 3 p.m.). We left, somewhat exhausted, after the cake cutting, but even now they will all be tripping the light fantastic and indulging in a hog roast.

News from Kyoto

Here's a photograph of Mini and Leo in their formal Japanese wedding garb, attended by the two "miko", sort of supercharged altar servers, at their Shinto ceremony on Friday last, performed in the romantic surroundings of a hotel on the outskirts of Kyoto, by a wide river, overlooked by mountains and set in beautiful gardens.

Suffice to say, the marriage celebration day went brilliantly, with Mini looking amazing in her kimono, and many of her friends having made a similar effort to dress traditionally, because of the English connection. (In the same way, Caroline will take all her foreign students to see round Gloucester Cathedral, though in the normal course of things we would never darken its doors.) Leo must have posed quite a problem to his team of dressers, but he looked very splendid in his long skirt made of much the same material as a pair of wedding trousers at home, and his white socks and flip-flops.

So, on the one hand we had the strangest ritual for the couple, with just family present, seated either side of a small chapel-like room in the hotel, the shrine at the end, the priest wearing a hat which was a cross between a bishop's mitre and a space helmet and shiny black plastic clogs on his feet; and on the other hand the largest barrage of digital cameras you have seen, flashing endlessly at the couple when they emerged in front of the other guests: Leo, not the easiest person to get to sit for his photograph, lapped it all up, and Mini looked completely unfazed too, though they must each have been in a state of exhaustion by the end of the day. I certainly was; but it was a sensationally happy one for us all, and it was warm and sunny!

For me, the most moving moment came when Leo and Mini had departed during the ceremonial lunch; and then returned into a darkened room, filled with the sound of Imogen Cooper's Mozart, dressed in their Painswick wedding outfits (almost) - before, a very Japanese couple, and now an English one!

Off to Japan!

This time tomorrow, we shall, God willing, be airbound for Tokyo! We are there till 31st, celebrating, Japanese-style, Leo's marriage to Mini. That takes place in Kyoto, but we shall be visiting other places whilst we are there, including Osaka, Koya-san and Yokohama.

(Yes, we have offset our carbon - not that I'm convinced that's much more than a cosmetic response to the runaway train of climate change. I see this as being both our first and our last visit to Japan.)

As Ida's second birthday is whilst we are en route, she commemorated it at the weekend, whilst staying with her father and grandparents in Dorset: we all met up for a jolly lunch there yesterday - see photograph.

A rather cosy club

On Saturday, driving through Winchcombe at teatime, we saw guests streaming out of St Peter's after a wedding (not this one), all the men wearing dinner jackets and the women slinky evening dresses. Yesterday, I went to a party given by friends whose daughter's wedding (again, not the one in this picture) had also taken place the day before: a mother of another bride-to-be was bemoaning how the village churches around her home only seated "about 60 at a squash", and were therefore far too small for the wedding they had in mind. Two others I spoke to at this same party were discussing the probability that their parish church would be declared redundant: "there were only three of us at Morning Service today."

Clearly, there is still a strong wish amongst many for a church wedding, albeit attenders dress for them with the subsequent dancing in mind. Yet there is insufficient commitment to keep the parish church going week in, week out.

The Jesuit theologian Fr. Gerald O'Collins, giving the Tablet lecture earlier this month, set out seven dreams for the future of the church. One dream is of a church reaching out to others - to those who have lost touch with the church, as well as to other Christians and to members of other faiths. "At times they feel that they have intruded on a rather cosy club, made up of the regular parishioners."

And another of Fr. O'Collins' dreams is prompted by the human race seeming bent on destroying the earth and itself. "The cry of the poor earth must be heeded." He dreams of a church serving those in distress - linking the altar and the soup kitchen. "Young people... sense the difference between what we say and what we do. They respond when there is no gap between our words in church and our actions in the world."

Icky and the immobile homes

Though caravans by the seaside invariably dismay me, these colourful beach huts at Wells-Next-The-Sea lifted my spirits when, coming out of the dark woods behind, I first saw them on Sunday morning. The previous day's wedding celebrations had continued with all meeting up for breakfast together, leading to a windy walk on Wells beach. Even, for three hearties, a swim: I kept well wrapped up.

In the woods were swarms of twitchers, looking apparently for Icky, the Icterine Warbler. They can't have been best pleased to have a noisy post-wedding party walking through their midst.

A Quaker wedding

On Saturday last, we were present for the first time at a marriage in a Friends' Meeting House. The celebrating couple and their guests sat round in an open square. There was piano music from a CD player before the appointed hour; then silence. Virtually the only formal words spoken were those of each of the parties: "I take this my friend John," in the bride's case, "to be my husband, promising through Divine assistance to be unto him a loving and faithful wife, so long as we both on earth shall live." It was delightful in its simplicity and in the sincerity with which the words were spoken: how often does the presence of a priest or minister prevent one from remembering that marriage is a sacrament administered by the parties to one other.

The guests originated from 15 different countries, all coming together to celebrate in Wells-Next-The-Sea on the remote North Norfolk coast. There was a party in the evening in one of the seaside Whelksheds, part museum witnessing to the town's maritime history, part John's studio.

We had stayed a distance inland the night previously, in a gracious estate house with 16th Century origins: above shows the kitchen. On the night of the wedding, our B&B (recommended) was of similar age, in the incredibly picturesque village of Little Walsingham. The atmosphere could not be further removed from that of Lourdes.

A second happy day!

An outdoor ceremony in England during June – such as Mini and Leo planned yesterday – means umbrellas at the ready, but our daughter-in-law proved right in saying that she is "Sunny Lady:" there was only the merest whiff of rain during the post-marriage blessing and celebration in the romantic setting of Painswick's Rococo Garden. Andrew Meynell devised a beautiful liturgy: this was his Introduction:

Leo and Katsumi are really thrilled that you are all able to come to this Celebration of their Marriage, and want to welcome you very warmly to the Rococo Gardens. This is the English celebration – the Japanese version will happen in October – so it is based on a Christian service. They are very keen to help us think through the significance of what they have done in marrying each other and to open our understanding of the meaning of this relationship. They particularly want their family and friends to participate with them in this Service before we all move to the Orangery for the reception and cutting of the cake.

You, Mini and Leo, are standing in front of your family and friends as husband and wife, as you come to dedicate your lives to each other.

From very early in the Christian story, Marriage has been understood as a gift: it is a given that husband and wife may comfort and help each other, living together in need and in plenty, in sorrow and joy. It is a given, that with delight and tenderness they may know each other in love, and, through the joy of their bodily union, may strengthen the union of the hearts and lives. It is a given as the foundation of family life in which children may be borne and nurtured in accordance with God's will, to his praise and glory. This is the meaning of the marriage you have made.

Leo and Mini, you are doing more than marrying each other: you belong to one another as partners and as soulmates; and also are bringing together two families from different countries, crossing the boundaries of cultures and faiths. By your action here you are saying you are not afraid of differences, but are enriched by them; not distancing yourselves through fear but committed to working with whatever keeps you from loving one another to completion. We have a common humanity - in which we know deeply that we belong to one another; a world in which we pray and work for humanity’s well-being; where we search for its meaning and purpose; where we repent of what goes wrong, where we act to put things right, where we celebrate what goes well; it’s a world where we become more healed by being prepared to bear more for the sake of others who are less well. It is through close relationships such as marriage that we learn about trust, commitment, faithfulness and love and how we might live most fully the life we are meant to live.

St John wrote ‘God is love, and those who live in love live in God and God lives in them.’ So let us keep silence, and become aware of the deeper mystery that is the Holy Spirit here within and amongst us now.

‘Love does not come to an end.’

A happy day!

Leo and Mini were married yesterday! Here they are Skyping Mini's parents in Osaka, Mini showing off her ring. She wore lilies of the valley in her hair, and Leo sported a magnificent buttonhole. Agnes brought all her floral skills to the arrangements, which now scent the house.

As they wished, the wedding was a low-key affair, with a lunch for the immediate family afterwards. Caroline had organised beautiful food, and Leo made an excellent speech! Off they went afterwards on the bus to Burford - but for a two-night honeymoon only: we are all going to Japan in October, and Leo is saving his holiday for that.

We are absolutely delighted to have acquired such a lovely daughter-in-law!

Leo & Mini

Thomas took this excellent photograph in August: Leo and his fiancée, Katsumi Ikushima, known to the world as Mini, are now formally engaged. In The Times, there is a Guest Book for them: do sign in! You can see half a dozen other photographs of them on The Times' site also, in their Photo Gallery.

The wedding is now fixed for May next year, to take place in England, with another ceremony in Kyoto in October: we shall be flying out!

Lucy = Ash

My beautiful Goddaughter, Lucy was married yesterday to her friend of long standing, Ash Mayne. It was a joyful ceremony, conducted with great solemnity by the Tweedies' local Rector, Claire Lording, charismatic in the best sense. (Never has there been a more persuasive illustration of the argument in favour of women priests!)

All Lucy's Godparents were on parade, and delighted by how she and Ash had not only chosen a church wedding, but taken such care over the selection of music and poetry, and even the make-up of the service booklet. Their reward was the best community singing I've heard at a marriage for ages - and the best possible weather! Herefordshire was looking at its very best - and in particular the Tweedie garden, albeit Charles having had to sacrifice some of this season's best fishing days!

As always, a million pictures were taken, but somehow the day wasn't marred by the urgency to take advantage of photo opportunities - thanks to a smiling and dedicated lady behind the viewfinder. (The above is an effort of mine.)

Floreat Ed'n'Bella

Ed Nightingale and Bella Mackie were married yesterday afternoon in Eton College Chapel. It was my first visit: what a joy to worship there, with all the colour and life in those eight huge John Piper and Patrick Reyntiens windows!

The wedding service was memorable on a number of counts: for the groom being invisible to most of the congregation - poor man, he had just broken a tendon playing tennis; for the address, by the same priest who married Ed's parents; for that splendid priest omitting to ask whether anyone objected to the marriage (once a lawyer, always a lawyer); and for the music: Parry, Mozart, Bach, Handel, Beethoven - perhaps all to be expected. But Offenbach? Anyway, the Tales of Hoffmann barcarolle was sung beautifully by two of Ed's sisters.

We emerged after the ceremony into the sunlit School Yard, dominated by this statue of Eton's founder, King Henry VI. I've always had rather a soft spot for this king, in spite of - or possibly because of - his being on the "wrong" side in the Wars of the Roses.

She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore to be won.

One could understand if Ed - an English teacher - had muttered to himself these words (from Shakespeare's Henry VI, part 1) when he met Bella. She was a smashing bride.