“The still figure in strange golden vestments seemed to have receded into a time far remote from our own.  She was like an image in a hieratic ikon, a page from an old richly illustrated manuscript . . .”  These are the words of Brian Barker, O.B.E., who stood among the very few alive on the earth who were able to see Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, as she sat, resplendent, in King Edward’s chair.

There were eight thousand royal and other invited guests in attendance, ringed about on the streets of London by three million more, but Elizabeth Alexandra Mary was alone before God and His representatives, receiving beautiful and priceless relics of coronation antiquity.  In fact, she was accepting something much, much more beautiful and without price.

Elizabeth was accepting responsibility before God.

Hers was to care for a nation, the answer to a calling that some say has become merely emblematic, yet her calling makes England . . . England!  Those who line the street to meet her when she steps out of her limousine will bow or curtsey to her, some wearing business suits and some in blue jeans.  When she smiles at them, they beam a happy, privileged response.  They did then; they do still.  She is a beautiful woman, particularly beautiful in her devotion to duty, because her people are her duty.

Brian Barker wrote . . . “The silence in the Abbey was intense.  The Queen was sitting stiffly upright in the old high-backed chair, a figure of shining gold with the jeweled Sceptres in her hands.  At that moment we saw her as no one would ever see her again in her lifetime.  She was remote from any familiar conception of royalty  . . .”

Precisely.  This was a moment in time that transcended earthly majesty, though it was replete with it.  Elizabeth was clothed in an actuality of consecration to God and duty toward man that none of us will ever experience, sartorially or ceremonially, but she was not gowned or vested with more salvation, more unction, greater anointing or responsibility than is ours for the calling with which we have been called.  We are vested with the promises of God, clothed in Jesus Christ and robed in righteousness.

As was true of Elizabeth in that moment, our splendor may not be seen by all, and seldom is our consecration put on view, but it is as real as was Her Majesty’s, and it is eternal.

In our Lord’s Majesty, and in His humility, we bear the glory of royal and eternal love and sacrifice.

*****

The Peers of the Realm, those with royal connections by birth and bequeathment, had brought their coronets to the Abbey, but they were not wearing them.  They had come in their scarlet robes, with rows of ermine (or rabbit if necessary) depicting their rank, but their coronets had been left in the care of their pursuivants.

These youngsters now entered the Theater, bearing the noble headgear.  Their colorful uniforms were a medieval splash in the gold and scarlet arena.  With a bow, they presented to the titled owners the symbols of their royal dignity and their subservience to The Crown.

The Archbishop was at the Altar.  He lifted St. Edward’s Crown high, and it responded with a flash of diamonds and rubies and emeralds . . . gemstones so large that it would take all the carats at a large jewelry store and more to equal their weight . . . and, setting it back upon the Altar, he blessed it.

“Bless we beseech thee this Crown, and so sanctify thy servant Elizabeth upon whose head this day thou dost place if for a sign of royal majesty, that she may be fitted by thine abundant grace with all princely virtues.”

         The Archbishop came down from the Altar, and the Ministers of the Church came with him.  The Dean of Westminster was bearing the Crown on a scarlet cushion, two tiny gold stars indicating the front to guard against the backward placement that had occurred at Her Majesty’s father’s Coronation.  All those given on earth to represent heaven’s glories now approached where the young woman sat, seventeen months Queen, now to be crowned and enthroned.

They stood before St. Edward’s chair where Elizabeth sat motionless.  The Archbishop lifted the Crown again, very high, the sleeves of his robes falling back; no one breathed.  Then it was done.  The Crown descended and rested on Her Majesty’s head.  A wave of motion swept over the sections of the peerage as they placed their own coronets upon their heads, noble because she is royal.  The cry rang out, “God Save the Queen!  God Save the Queen!  God Save the Queen!”

We pray that Elizabeth may, in the purity of heart and purpose that God gives, that He had in mind when He saw her, sitting alone and unobserved, obtain His secure blessings for the throne and nation of England and its Commonwealth partner nations.  As God saw her heart on that day, as He sees her even now, and as He sees all those whose hope is in Him, may He openly reward us with a revival in our hearts and in our leadership, in our homes and in our governments in this hour.

No potentate on earth is clothed in more splendor or vested with greater privilege than we, and none hold more power and authority than do those who obey the voice of God and walk with Him, in the fellowship of His Spirit.

Amen.

photo: Rotherham Web