George VI

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Day Twenty-Five … Not Yet Crowned

Posted by Cor Unum Abbey on May 29, 2013
Posted in: "Dieu et Mon Droit", devotional material, personal monasticism, Spiritual disciplines, The Coronation of Elizabeth II. Tagged: , , , . Leave a comment

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  The Queen, Her Majesty Elizabeth II, is robed in splendor.  Still bare-headed before God, not yet “Inthroned,” she has been endued with royal majesty and Anointed for the gifts and graces of sovereignty that come only from the Spirit of God.  St. Edward’s Chair has been her seat, as it has been for sovereigns before her for hundreds of years.  Beneath it lay the Stone of Scone (the “Stone of Destiny,”) Scottish Coronation Stone, captured but returned to the Scots, with the proviso that it be on hand for the Coronation of every British monarch.  More than the non-British can understand, this day has not been Elizabeth’s alone; it has belonged, it has been sacred, to her and to her people together.

As perhaps “they” have not always understood the roots and the effect of American liberty, “we” have also not always comprehended why the British would wish to have a King or Queen to stand for them before God.  Some monarchs have done just that; others have not.  Some have been fiercely protective of their country and their subjects; others have been only fierce, and even reprobate.  It is likely that Elizabeth’s father, King only through the abdication of Edward VIII, kept Great Britain from Nazi overthrow and maintained a vital resistance until intervention prevailed at last.

Interviews with police officers, statesmen, her ladies-in-waiting, peers in attendance, choristers, and by-standers who took part in the great Coronation Day of 1953 repeat the same sentiment … if they could re-live any twenty-four hour period in their lives, it would be that day.  It was a holy occasion of calling upon God, of hoping that He would give them grace in their earthly sovereign, of being deeply grateful that Brittania remains.

They have different personal recollections, but so many tell how delicate and young Elizabeth looked, and yet how perfectly ready and suited for the job at hand.  They say that the standing was interminable, but the ceremony seemed brief.  They all say that the sounds, the music and the intense volume of the choirs and the rustling of her robes and the shouts of acclaim, were the most exhilarating parts of the whole.  Interviews fifty years later brought a glaze over their eyes and caused their voices to break with emotion.

We are taking time today, just as there were a couple of moments during the ceremony when time itself seemed to stand still, to be there with her and to be here together, robed in the garments of praise and righteousness, pure with the purity of our redemption, anointed by the Spirit of God, without oaths but with the decision that God will honor and to which He responds: we will walk with God.  We will be led by, we will be filled with His Spirit.  Our lives are His, and He is our life.

Her Majesty has out-lived a great many of those who were in attendance, and we give thanks for her long life.  Long live Queen Elizabeth!  It must be wonderful to have anthems sung, people asking wherever one goes, that God may give one a long life, full of happiness, victory, and choice gifts from His tremendous store.  (The essentials from God Save the Queen)

The Word of the Lord tells us that songs are sung over us, and these not by choristers but by God Himself (Zephaniah 3:17.)  Perhaps angels join in.  What does He sing; what are the lyrics of His Song?  Some of them are penned in the Song of Songs, words like  . . .

You are altogether beautiful, my darling;
    there is no flaw in you. …

 You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride; 
you have stolen my heart
 with one glance of your eyes,
with one jewel of your necklace.

How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! 
How much more pleasing is your love than wine,
and the fragrance of your perfume more than any spice!  (Song of Songs 4:7-10)

         Who can answer a love like this?  How humbling must that Day have been for Her Majesty!  The love and the honor her peoples give to her has always been her support and her stay … but we are loved by God.  He bears us in His arms.  He is the Lifter of our Heads.  He has loved us with an everlasting love and drawn us with cords of love.  His delight is in us, His faithful ones.  Our seat is unspeakably higher than her Chair and even than her Throne … we are seated in heaven even now, with God in Christ (Colossians 3:1, 2)   We trust that her Throne was high to her because her soul was, as ours, God’s own.

We have a few more days to spend together, and we will see Elizabeth crowned and enthroned.  May God grant that before this week is past, we will see ourselves where we belong, in Christ, at the right hand of God, loved, strengthened, forgiven … and royal.

Detail from Pietro Annigoni’s portrait of Her Majesty,

National Gallery

Day Four – The Trumpets, Part One

Posted by Cor Unum Abbey on May 4, 2013
Posted in: devotional material, personal monasticism, Spiritual disciplines, The Coronation of Elizabeth II. Tagged: , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

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Westminster Abbey had been filling up since very early in the morning, at the soggy, dripping, chilly break of day.  Some peers and peeresses, those who could attend with their coronets in hand, had brought sandwiches and sweeties hidden inside so that they might not miss “elevensies,” presumably.  It was a sensible use for their headgear until the moment when the Archbishop would place St. Edward’s crown on the head of Britain’s fortieth monarch. By then, their snacks would have to be consumed so they could cover their bared heads with the emblems of their own rank.

Hours later, the Royal guests began making their way up the long aisle, finding their places, along with the designated representatives of nations.  The Crown Prince of Norway came up the aisle, Prince George of Greece, General George Marshall of the United States and Georges Bidault of France, and His Royal Highness Prince Chula Chakrabongse of Thailand.  There were sultans and ambassadors and prime ministers and queens in attendance.

In the Sanctuary, the Regalia were being delivered from the Jerusalem Chamber.  These are the Coronation articles of royal and spiritual significance, from the Armill bracelets to St. Edward’s Crown; their names were “In the Program.”  Had the guests all gone home, had the cameras and lights all failed, the Regalia had to be present.

  The Princes and Princesses of the Blood Royal began their procession, followed by the arrival of the Queen Mother.  She was beloved of the British and the Commonwealth nations.  Ever at the side of her conscientious husband, together they had led the British people during the terrible war years.  She was always brimful of courage and unfeigned compassion.  She would arrive in those days on the scene of a bombed out building, stepping over rubble and seeking out the wounded and the grieving, the danger of a Blitzkrieg attack always present, and when the Palace was bombed, her response was, “now we can look the East End in the face.”  In their sorrow and devastation, the people were relieved by their Majesties’ nearness.  King George VI and his wife had done what they had been crowned to do, and they were loved for it.

         This, now, was her daughter’s Coronation.  Brian Barker, member of the Departmental Coronation Committee and Gold Staff Commander, wrote that he saw the Queen Mother pause for a moment, as her Mistress of the Robes gathered up her long train, to glance at the empty, ruby-red Throne beside which she had sat at her husband’s crowning and her own; no one alive knew better than she the duties and the dedication to which Elizabeth would be bound.

         A long drum roll, majestic and momentous, reverberated against the marble walls, indicating that the Orders of Chivalry had begun their march, but spines had not yet been electrified as they were about to be.  The Knights of the Realm continued their advance, and then . . . the earthly manufacture of heaven’s own instrument . . . the silver trumpets of the heralds, began to cry Her Majesty’s arrival.  Everyone knew, with no mistaking, the young Queen was at the door.

St. George’s Chapel, Windsor,

the heraldic banners

Josef Renalias