That was it really. Looking back at my sermon notes there were no references to the Queen. I stuck to my usual task of providing what I hoped was a faithful exposition of a passage of Scripture, on this occasion Psalm 85.
The service had even more significance for me. It was the last time I would celebrate the Lord’s Supper in St Paul’s. The following Sunday would see my last service before retiring. To break bread and share wine in memory of our Lord is always a high point in ministry but on this occasion the emotions were even stronger.
The service over, I am at the back of the Church where people are gathered as usual, and today mindful of how I must be feeling there are hugs and the occasional tears and it’s an effort to keep myself together. I see a man standing apart from the general huddle. He says he wants to talk to me. I don’t know him. Obviously, a visitor. And he looks as if he is ready to do battle. No name is offered. He introduces himself as a member of a charity that works with the homeless and he is distressed at what he perceived to be the prominence I had given to the Queen in the service. The wealth and privilege she represents has no relevance to people on the street.
Now you must understand that immediately after a service is not the best time to have a go at a preacher. Having poured out your soul for well over an hour in prayer and preaching is emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually demanding. Adrenaline is pumping and weighing on your mind is the question: ‘Did they get the message?’ It’s a kind of maelstrom of the inner being that not even close friends or family members can fully appreciate. So to have this man suggest that I had departed from my first responsibility to preach the Gospel was hard to take.
I cannot clearly remember how I responded although I did manage to refer to my longstanding involvement with the Preshal Trust in Govan with it’s concern for the marginalised in society. But in the end, it was all rather defensive and maybe even verging on incoherence. The look on his face told me that for all the impression I was making I might as well have been stoning him with popcorn. Needless to say the encounter did not end well.
Monarchy does get people worked up one way or another. Others just accept it as part of our national life. It has some surprising supporters. When former First Minister Alex Salmond was asked if the monarchy would have a role in an independent Scotland he responded: ‘Elizabeth Queen of Scots sounds good to me.’
Personally, my respect for the Queen grew through the years as I learned more of her faith and her deep commitment to serve. Of all the words spoken and written during the Covid pandemic, her broadcast to the nation ending with the heartfelt hope that ‘we will meet again’ has stayed with me. Maybe what was happening was a deeper appreciation of the person who cared about those who were bereaved and suffering and who as a Christian she held in her prayers, looking forward in faith to better days.
That is something we all have to remember when thinking about the King and his present health challenges. The Church’s relation to the State has for centuries been a source of controversy and passages of Scripture have been cited to support different and, indeed, opposing views. What should be remembered by all groups is that human beings make up the machinery of government. They make mistakes as well as do good, they carry a great weight of responsibility, and therefore stand in need of the prayers of the Christian community. When governments work at their best justice is pursued, stability maintained, and the sick and vulnerable are a care priority. It is to those ends that we uphold them in prayer. When governments depart from those priorities it is a matter of concern, but the prayers continue with the emphasis on change. It was on this basis that the Confessing Church under the Third Reich prayed for Adolf Hitler.
Many have been the responses to the news of the King’s cancer diagnosis, but it has been sad to read and hear what can only be described as conditional goodwill. Some have taken this opportunity to express their disagreement with the institution of the monarchy or their dislike of the King personally along the lines of: ‘I disagree with the monarchy but best wishes to the King.’ A man’s cancer is not an opportunity to press personal opinions. To draw near someone with an expression of goodwill and at the same time maintain a resolute distance seems disingenuous in the extreme. In the end a man has received the diagnosis we all dread. What would we like to hear in these circumstances?
Everyone llikes to be called a Good Samaritan but have we really grasped what it means? It is not just a call to perform ‘good deeds’ but to show a radical, concern for the traumatised in society regardless of race and religion, and to allow nothing, not money or inconvenience to come in the way of responding to his need. The Samaritan was focussed on the person. Whatever barriers existed between himself and the mugged and wounded Jew were irrelevant. (Luke 10: 25-37)
Remember Jesus did not tell stories just to entertain. He expected a response. When a listener had grasped that differences mean nothing in face of suffering and need he said:
‘Go and do likewise.’
