I am not an ardent Royalist, nor am I a dedicated supporter of Australia becoming a republic. But like most Australians I was saddened to awake to the news that the Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, had died peacefully at Balmoral Castle in the early hours of the morning on Friday 9 September (Sydney time). Following the death of Her Majesty, we have seen and perhaps taken part in numerous memorial and remembrance events. Many of us will have watched the state funeral.
The days following the death of the Queen have also seen a large outpouring of national and international grief. The queue of people wishing to pay their respects to the Queen as her body lies in state has stretched for many miles. People began to wait outside Westminster Hall, where the late monarch’s body rested, two days before the opening of the hall to the public. At times the queue stretched past Tower Bridge and people were waiting for over ten hours to pay their respects. Thousands of dignitaries attended the Queen’s state funeral in Westminster Abbey – reportedly the largest state event of modern times and the first funeral service for a monarch held in the Abbey since the funeral of George II in 1760. The death of Elizabeth II marks the end of an era.
The scenes of mourning that we have witnessed may in part be a lamenting of the end of the second Elizabethan age as much as it is a personal grief for the passing of an individual few if any of us could claim to know personally. Grief is our response to loss in all its forms. The depth of the grief that we feel depends largely on the personal significance that we attach to the loss. It would be easy to be cynical at the sight of people queueing for hours to pay respects to a person they did not know personally. However, we need to bear in mind that outpourings of grief like the one we have witnessed are not only a statement of how much each individual will miss the Queen, but testimony to the deep impact that she has had on all our lives. One mourner remarked how being amongst the first members of the public to pay their respects to the Queen helped her grieve the loss of her own husband earlier this year.
The Archbishop of Canterbury, who had a central part in both the funeral of the late Queen and the coronation of her son, His Majesty Charles III, spoke about the Queen’s own attitude to her mortality. The archbishop remarked to the BBC on how, when he last saw the Queen, “I came away thinking there is someone who has no fear of death, has hope in the future, knows the rock on which she stands and that gives her strength”. The Queen’s reported calmness when considering her own passing stems, I am sure, from her own deep faith and assuredness of salvation in Jesus Christ. As her reign lengthened, the Queen increasingly spoke about her faith and its centrality to her life.
Only time will reveal the extent of the changes her passing has set in motion. One newspaper opined that the United Kingdom came into being with the death of Elizabeth I, and the death of Elizabeth II may likely herald its demise. I do not think the changes will be as dramatic as some are predicting. But, as we look around the world, noting the uncertainty of the times and a general increase in the anxiety that many feel about the future, let us learn from the example of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. In her Christmas speech in 2008, she concluded with the following words: “I hope that, like me, you will be comforted by the example of Jesus of Nazareth who, often in circumstances of great adversity, managed to live an outgoing, unselfish and sacrificial life. Countless millions of people around the world continue to celebrate his birthday at Christmas, inspired by his teaching. He makes it clear that genuine human happiness and satisfaction lie more in giving than receiving; more in serving than in being served.” As we grieve her passing and mourn our loss, let us take comfort in the one the Queen called King, Jesus of Nazareth.
Yours in Christ,
Andrew Heron
