It’s not exactly in keeping with my progressive, social justice wannabe status, but here it is: I love the British monarchy.
Every time OK! Magazine has the Royal Family on the cover, I devour each glossy page. If a documentary is aired on television, you can bet I’m watching it. The more pomp and circumstance, the better. I have Big Opinions about Fergie, Autumn Phillips (a Canadian! in the Royal Family!), succession planning, and our constitutional monarchy.
When Prince William married Catherine Middleton, my American husband was of the opinion that we had all gone mildly crazy. I loaded my bag with my best English teas, and picked up a half dozen pink cupcakes. My sister brought along the delicate old-fashioned “company china” she had inherited from her husband’s Great-Auntie Toots. My eldest daughter and my mother had a dress-up party, roping themselves in pearls, teetering in high heels, peering out from under the edges of wide brimmed hats. Then we sat in my parents’ basement, all of us, to watch the entirety of CBC’s Royal Wedding coverage, from start to finish. And it was brilliant.
So, of course, the Diamond Jubilee celebration marking the 60-year reign of Her Royal Majesty Queen Elizabeth II is a smorgasbord of pageantry goodness for someone like me. While it would be easy during this celebration to turn her public persona into a caricature of tiaras and Corgis, there is something deeper.
My interest in (okay, fine, obsession with …) the Royal Family has its roots in my growing up years here in Canada. Like most Commonwealth kids of the 70s and 80s, I was caught up in the height of the Princess Diana fervor. We adored our Princess Diana. (See also: I loathed Prince Charles with a deadly loathing. I’m trying to let it go. I’ve come around to the Duchess of Cornwall, thanks for asking.)
I grew up singing God Save the Queen in public school, sure, but the Queen herself didn’t capture my imagination in the way that her children and grandchildren did. But as the years passed, as my awareness for the role of the monarchy in world events grew beyond Diana’s fashion choices, as I began to pay attention to her voice and influence in our worldwide society, I grew to deeply respect Queen Elizabeth.
The woman has a compelling story. Throughout her reign, she has navigated the breakneck speed of progress and change in almost every area of our society, from culture to religion to technology to politics, with calm courage and dignity. She has served alongside Winston Churchill and Margaret Thatcher and Tony Blair, overseen constitutional changes as the British Empire evolved into the Commonwealth. She has maintained an admirable flexibility and tolerance to change under intense public scrutiny. Her passionate but quiet commitment to her charitable work (she is the patron of more than 600 charities), her most admired personal characteristics, and her public choices often have their roots in her abiding faith.
Supreme Governor of the Church of England and Defender of the Faith seems an odd title in today’s pluralistic religious landscape, a bit out of step, exclusive by its wording. But recently, at Lambeth Palace, she shared her belief that her role as Defender of the Faith in these days “is not to defend Anglicanism to the exclusion of all other religions. Instead, the Church has a duty to protect the free practice of all faiths in this country.”
“To have [a monarch] who has been a symbol, a sign of stability through all that period is really a rather exceptional gift,” said Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, who will deliver a sermon later today during the four-day celebration. He also praised Queen Elizabeth’s ability to “help us as a society to keep our heads collectively, not to be panicked by change. She has very gently steered that cultural process in her own way.”
As Dr. Williams prepares to step down in December, the Queen will play a role in his successor’s appointment. As Molly Worthen noted recently, American Christians have a long-standing veneration for British theologians, writers, and thinkers, so it is likely that the new Archbishop will both quietly influence and outright impact many aspects of Protestant believers worldwide.
Nearly 80 percent of people in England said that the Queen still has an important faith role, a recent BBC poll found, while 73 percent said she should continue as supreme governor of the Church of England and keep the Defender of the Faith title first used by Henry VIII. Her Christmas broadcast last year preached the good news, she spoke openly of Jesus, about the power of forgiveness, from a place of intimacy.
We love the parade of flotillas down the Thames, sure, we adore the mystique of Balmoral, and the epic Englishness of the Diamond Jubilee events, but really, the draw is that we share a universal story with her. Despite her unique bloodline, lengthy titles, and privileged experiences, we feel connected to her because she has been one of the few constants of our lives, generation after generation.
She has walked the past 60 years in the clear eye of a sometimes-hostile, sometimes-adoring public with grace. Her status as sovereign has not exempted her from the deep sorrows that come upon humans, such as death, loss, grief, despair, even wayward children. She has made room in her life for deep romance and faithful love. She is sharply intelligent, wise, generous, dutiful, and insightful, reputedly in her personal life as well as in her national and international duty.
She has changed her mind, committed mistakes, and made amends when she could. For instance, the monarchy faced one of its greatest crises after the death of Princess Diana in 1997. Her desire for privacy in the days following the Paris crash was interpreted as a slight to the People’s Princess. To her credit, she recognized the error of treating this as a private affair. As always, Princess Diana required different protocol.
Even in imperfection, the queen has given her life in the service of her people and continues to stand, in her matchy-match outfits, as a symbol of a faithful woman of wisdom and strength, a true world leader.
So if you will please excuse me, I need to go order my Diamond Jubilee commemorative tea towel to celebrate.
Sarah Bessey writes at www.sarahbessey.com, where she has become an accidental grassroots voice for postmodern and emerging women in the Church on issues from mothering to politics and theology to ecclesiology. Sarah also works with Mercy Ministries of Canada, a non-profit residential home for women seeking freedom from life-controlling issues. Sarah lives in Abbotsford, British Columbia, Canada with her husband, Brian, and their three tinies: Anne, Joseph and Evelynn Joan.