There has been a lot of chatter on social media among some of my colleagues and others about the liturgical and socio-political niceties of Saturday's coronation and attendant festivities, especially the shielding of the anointing with the pictured spoon - the oldest and perhaps strangest of the coronation artefacts. Personally I thought that was at least an improvement on the cloth of gold canopy used in the previous coronation, but (pointless) debates are raging as to whether this is an ancient practice or was simply introduced in the previous service to shield the Queen from the TV cameras, not for purposes of sacredness, but understandable coyness, if she actually had to bare her breast bone in puritan 1950s Britain. But as any church leader knows, anything performed twice in a church becomes a tradition. All this goes to show that I did actually watch it, while doing other things - the whole shooting match from the pre-service concert with yer wumman in that lemon-meringue dress, right through to the slimmed-down fly-over - but I drew the line at last night's Windsor jamboree - Take That was a step too far for me.
Frankly I thought the service stretched the envelope of establishment religion in 21st century England (and I use that term advisedly) as far as it was ever likely to go. The initial summons by a (very posh) child, the commitment to servant kingship, the diversity in terms of race, gender and religion, were all laudable, but it was all within a setting of medieval, militaristic, inherited privilege that was NEVER, going to be sloughed off easily, without leaving spectators (and most were spectators not worshippers) feeling short-changed, particularly against the gilded Gothic backdrop of Westminster Abbey, bracketed by imperial-era military parades. Anyone expecting anything radically different was deluded. The late Queen was undoubtedly a devoted Christian, but never saw fit to challenge these traditions and indeed her own coronation was an even more lavish affair, at a time of arguably even more straitened circumstances. In the wake of small changes to a ceremony, in the face of a government that seems to endorse not only conspicuous consumption, but conspicuous corruption, I will judge the reign of Charles III on the basis of subsequent action or inaction. But in the meantime, just as Luke in his account of Jesus' life contrasted the Kingdom of God with Imperial Rome, I am left with a longing for a regime characterised by the post-exilic vision on Isaiah 61 articulated by Jesus in the synagogue in Nazareth.
Anointed:
To proclaim good news to the poor,
Not reassurance to the ravenous rich.
Anointed:
To remove the need for foodbanks,
Rather than seeing them as photo-ops.
Anointed:
To proclaim freedom for prisoners,
Rather than arresting dissenting voices.
Anointed:
To release from darkness the blind,
Rather than erecting a gilded screen
Across things we'd rather not see.
Anointed:
To proclaim a year of jubilee -
Of things set right and debts written off,
Rather than a day of shallow celebration,
A flag-draped, hundred-million pound street-party.
Anointed:
To bind up the broken-hearted,
Rather than exalt the hard-hearted.
Anointed:
To comfort all who mourn,
Rather than promote those
Who profit from misery.
Anointed:
To restore what has been ruined –
Not just rebuild ancient edifices
And renew ravaged environments,
But to reinvest in relationships,
And replant righteousness, justice and generosity
Across the nation;
Welcoming strangers to care for the sick and elderly,
And foreigners to work in our fields and elsewhere.
Then we will no longer live off
A nostalgia for an imperial past,
When we carried off the wealth of other nations,
And profited from the riches of conquest.
Instead of looking back
Through regal rose-tinted lenses,
Or looking forwards with fear
towards a diminished future,
Our descendants will look out with confidence
To find a new place
Among the family of nations,
And our offspring will know
That they are truly blessed.
That’s my King,
And his Kingdom.
Shalom
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