It’s a remarkable thing that no British – or Australian, or New Zealand – person under my age of 63 can remember a time when we had any other Head of State than her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. One of my earliest memories is her father’s funeral on our neighbour’s television following his death just 60 years ago on February 6th; by her coronation, like many other families, we had our own TV; and soon after, I was taken to the cinema for the first time to see the film of her Commonwealth tour. Ever since then our Queen has been, at one level, the star of the most amazing soap opera on earth; a family and national story of fairy-tale weddings, state funerals, romances and tradgedies, family joys and sorrows, that has increasingly captivated the whole world as the reach of the media has grown.
Of course, there is a much deeper level than celebrity and soap opera. At the heart of the story is a remarkable woman who never applied for the role, but who, having been thrust into it, remains faithful in her old age to a vow she made aged 21 to dedicate the rest of her life to the service of God and her people, and who was set apart for that service by her anointing with holy oil prior to her coronation. A coronation by which she became not only monarch, but also Supreme Governor (not Head, as Henry VIII claimed – a subtly but importantly different thing) of our Church of England. Strengthened by her faith, she has fulfilled both roles conscientiously and with dignity, often remaining silent in the face of much criticism, well past the age when her subjects have put their feet up; spurned the modern cult of celebrity and spin in favour of deeper values.
Not all of my parishioners are monarchists, and this isn’t the place to or time to debate the issue; but it surely befits monarchists and republicans alike to generously acknowledge a remarkable record of service this year, as we will do at both churches on Februry 5th. In my opinion, we are arguably celebrating ‘Elizabeth, Queen and Saint’.


