Sermon on the Death of her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

‘For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure’.

Kings seem a little improbable. A little fairy-tale or Arthurian. I’m kind of bracing myself for the National Anthem. I’m not there yet. I enjoyed a complaint on Twitter that this whole woke-culture has got totally out of hand if they’re now letting a man become Queen. The real thing is a Queen.

Sometime, when I was maybe 11 years old, the Queen came to watch me play hockey at Morfa stadium in Swansea. I’m sure she did a number of other things that day which supplemented her watching me play hockey, but she definitely did do that. I didn’t meet her and would certainly have been much more interested in playing hockey at the time, but I remember it; And isn’t it strange: Normally with the famous, the celebrity, you go to see them, watch them perform; The Queen is the one person who comes to watch ordinary things done by ordinary people.

I don’t bring this up as my “I met the Queen story” which everyone has been sharing over the last few days, but just because almost everyone seems to have had that brush with the monarch; and, while they remember it because she’s the Queen; she’s there because of them. There can be no one else in the country who has had that proximity to so many people; Who just by showing up in her bright colours adds a little bit of glory to a new supermarket, or school or to a parade or church service.

75 years ago on her 21st birthday she said these words which you can’t have escaped in the past few days:

‘I can make my solemn act of dedication with a whole Empire listening. I should like to make that dedication now. It is very simple. I declare before you all that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great Imperial family to which we all belong, but I shall not have the strength to carry out this resolution alone unless you join in with me, as I now invite you to do. I know that your support will be unfailingly given. God help me to make good my vow and God bless all of you who are willing to share in it.’

Empires have since gone out of fashion, largely, I think, because of Star Wars, but what is striking is that she’s probably the only 21-year-old to have made a promise on a lifetime scale, and kept it.

And the monarchy depends on that dedication. Having sworn 6 oaths of loyalty to Her Majesty, and her successors, I’m aware that the weight of the symbol depends on the integrity of the monarch. And if you need a reminder of how important that is you have only to recall the last radio transmission of 2PARA as the battalion was destroyed at Arnhem: ‘Out of ammunition. God save the King.’ King Charles will know that, of course, as Colonel in Chief of the Parachute Regiment.

I’m not here to give a eulogy for our Queen; we have Huw Edwards for that, who despite coming from Brigend, I’ve never met. But really there has been a worldwide eulogy rolling out without ceasing since she died. And we are shaken. Perhaps less so for younger people, but I’m struck by how many, and especially men, have told me they have been thrown by the depth of grief they now feel. She is the nation’s mum – the head of that ‘family to which we all belong’. And time and again people say that it feels like they have lost a member of their family. A landmark, a point of orientation has been washed away. And in this annus horribilis, that is felt all the more keenly.

In her death we also have the strongest possible reminder of our own mortality. Never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee Even the most famous woman in the world, Elizabeth the Great, is mortal. You are mortal. So our Queen in her last act of service to us, helps prepare us for that final hour of reckoning, Even as in her Christmas messages she always struck a universal but distinctly Christian note of hope. Our defender of the faith last Christmas: “We continue to be inspired by the kindness of strangers and draw comfort that—even on the darkest nights—there is hope in the new dawn. Jesus touched on this with the parable of the Good Samaritan. The man who is robbed and left at the roadside is saved by someone who did not share his religion or culture. This wonderful story of kindness is still as relevant today. Good Samaritans have emerged across society showing care and respect for all, regardless of gender, race, or background, reminding us that each one of us is special and equal in the eyes of God.”

The phrase that struck me from the appointed readings for today was this: ‘For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure’. The Queen, of course, was used to the weight of glory. The 1661 St Edward Crown, used only at coronations is made up of 2.2kg of gold and jewels. That is a headache of glory.

But it reminded me of a famous sermon by C.S. Lewis, where he thinks about glory first in human terms – the sense of fame, being thought well of – as the Queen certainly was. And at first he rubbishes the idea as worldly, superficial. But then he thinks how a schoolboy seeks the approval of his teacher, a child of her parent, a dog of his master; and finds in our seeking the approval of God, of finding good report, a proper kind of glory, such that when we finally meet our God, God might say: ‘well done, thou good and faithful servant.’ And, of course, glory does mean acceptance by God, good report by God, as Jesus is transfigured and the voice booms out: This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased. But why is this ‘an eternal weight of glory?’ Well surely that is in contrast to the unbearable lightness of the things of this world. Our queen no longer lives in palaces, the jewels have passed down; The responsibility has gone to another, and the slagging match of twitter is faded from her ears. What remains is the eternal weight of glory; The care, the affection, the good report of God. It is only now she has inherited the imperishable crown.

The shocking thing is that this weight lies with all of us. The faith our Queen boldly proclaimed tells us that we are immortals, heirs of glory – That there are no ordinary people. And while we may not all in this life wear crowns, we are being prepared for glory, Even Welsh school boys are holy. The person sitting next to you is holy; Not because of their income, their car, the school their children go to, the fact that they met the driver of the Queen herself and had their photo taken by a charming old lady – But because we all carry within us this hidden weight of glory.

And as an imperishable crown now stretches over her – like a rainbow above the royal palaces – we know that she is welcomed home as an old friend: ‘well done thou good and faithful servant’. She has run the race, she has kept the faith, She has her imperishable crown.

And the bell that tolls for her, will at 4 o’clock toll to ring in a new time. So we might finish with the words of Queen Victoria’s favourite poem; Praying that as church bells across the land ring out the old and in the new, this would not be the final nail in Christian Britain, or another step towards the end of all things, but the beginning of a new hope and a better time:

Ring out the grief that saps the mind
   For those that here we see no more;
   Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
   The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
   Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Amen.