We use the words “grieving” and “mourning” interchangeably but I wonder if there is some benefit in considering the differences between them during this time of national mourning?
Grieving describes the internal emotions that bereavement brings. These are often intense, needing time and space to process. It’s sad that current protocols seem to afford little time or private space to the Queen’s family. But they are not the only ones grieving. Many people who had never met the Queen are also in grief either because of the way they integrated her story into their own, or because her death has triggered fresh outpourings of sorrow for loved ones who have died, particularly those of her generation. It’s been good to see many churches creating safe spaces and offering listening ears.
Mourning is what we do outwardly to show we are grieving. I wonder whether we might see mourning rituals as a way of inviting the wider community to support a family in their grief? One of the hardest things to bear for a bereaved person is the sense that the world keeps spinning, insensitive to their loss. Mourning rituals say “We hear you. We see you. We stand with you.” And that all helps. When Dad’s funeral cortege left his home, I noted that one of his neighbours, who had simply been looking through the window, stood to attention in his front room. That touched my heart - as did the many cards and other messages of comfort that people sent to us (thank you). There’s no doubt that mourning rituals have been eroded over recent decades. It used to be the case that traffic would patiently fall into line behind a cortege. Now, it’s common not only to be overtaken but for cars to end up inserted the middle of the line! Perhaps this national experience of mourning can remind us how important it is for every death to be registered with the same respect and gravitas as that of her late Majesty, and for the wider community to offer support?
Whilst reclaiming mourning as a community practice would seem a helpful thing to do, it’s also clear that National Mourning is something rather different. My fear is that some of the ways it is being presented and approached may seek to divide rather than unite the nation. (There was one rather surreal moment yesterday when British Cycling strongly advised me not to cycle during the hours of the funeral, and arrests for those wanting to register dissent have made headlines). Here I turn to my theological understanding of the nature of God who, more than any earthly ruler, could surely demand our love and subservience. However God does not demand anything from us. God remains in vulnerable expectancy, hoping that the great love lavished upon each one of us will be freely returned in some measure.
The Queen, both as a person and as a representative, was very widely (though not, in fact, universally) loved. I hope that we might rely on the fact that sufficient people will want to join in with mourning protocols without giving the message that those choosing not to do so are somehow betraying the nation.
Grief
Back in the 70’s our Brown Owl stood in Stoke Minster for the Thinking Day service. She had been chosen to lead us through our Brownie Promise. But at the last minute she had a memory block and was faced with hundreds of confused Brownies as she began ”I swear, by Almighty God….”
Of course that was not the promise asked of 7 year olds, or not quite! Our promise was “I promise that I will do my best, to do my duty to God; to serve the Queen and help other people and to keep the Brownie Guide Law.”
This was entirely consistent with how my parents brought me and my sister up. And with the possible exception of a timely response to an email, it is still true that if I have promised to do something, I will do my utmost to fulfil it to the very best of my ability. This sounds entirely consistent with Christianity, and particularly the Methodist version of it. Indeed people used to send their children to Sunday School to have such values instilled in them.
With the death of the late Queen, “doing one’s duty” has again been highlighted as a virtue. I join with many others in being grateful for her dedication to the difficult role that she inherited rather than chose, and for the way that she relied on God to support her in it. In the quirk of history that has seen us welcome a new monarch and new PM in the same week, this emphasis on duty coincides with assurances from the Prime Minister that if people do the right thing (which is usually linked to "working hard") then the Government will support them. This is not a new message, nor one only adopted by the Conservative Party.
And what could be wrong with that? It sounds exactly like the way things should be.
However, following Jesus should lead us to question even things which sound like “common sense”. I’m finding it instructive to explore what’s missing here. Because, if that’s the deal for those who “do their duty”, we need to ask - what’s the deal for those who “don’t”? Is the implication that they won’t be supported? And if not, then what is to be the attitude towards them? (recognising that the “them” might be “us” depending on time and circumstance). This is a particularly important question to ask in a society where we are a long way from having equality of opportunity; where health outcomes are unequal and are linked to household income, and where the criteria that society uses to judge a person’s worthiness is, at the least, often suspect.
Jesus’ practice and teaching often challenged contemporary ideas of virtue and justice. Look at the parable of the vineyard workers (Matthew 20) or his promise to the thief upon the cross. Wherever we are on the political spectrum, we are likely to find Jesus lays down a challenge to our idea of “common sense”.
As I ponder these, I’ll continue to follow the example set by the Queen in trying to be my responsible best. However I’ll bear in mind that my Spiritual Director doesn’t necessarily consider this the over-riding virtue that I think it is!
Duty
I suspect I’m not the only one trying to work through my responses to the death of the Queen today. There is part of me that wants to offer a reminder that in God's eyes, her death is no more nor less significant than that of any other person who has died today. In fact, given that Elizabeth's was a death "in season" we might consider that there is greater tragedy in those who have died from causes which would be preventable in a more just world. And whilst the Queen did a very difficult job exceptionally well, as a Christian she would be the first to remind us that she offered that as response to God’s love for her, not in order to earn more of it, since it was her’s already. In the divine economy, the lives of princes do not weigh more than paupers.
However, to the human family the death of the Queen is hugely more significant because her life intertwined with so many millions of others and represented so much. In my preaching on Sunday I reflected that "the old order is passing away”. I said this in the context of the institutional church, but it now takes on a much broader significance. As a nation we have already been experiencing a widespread feeling of transition and loss. The pandemic has left us collectively traumatised, Brexit has left us polarised and the cost of living crisis (never mind the climate emergency) leaves many people frightened about the future. I think it quite likely that the death of a national figure who represented, in the popular view, “the best of us", is likely to act as a lightning rod for a broad and deep grief already bubbling below the surface. This need not be a bad thing, especially if we understand it for what it is. And it may open the possibilities for real and honest conversations around lament and loss to which people of faith can make significant contribution.
It’s not easy to negotiate these times if you are someone who would want to offer a critique of the monarchy. Separating the offer of compassion for a bereaved family from what might appear unquestioning support for the institution in which they’re embedded is no easy matter. We will have both a State Funeral and a Coronation coming up in future months, something most of us have not experienced before. It won’t be an inappropriate time to reflect on what it means for the UK to be a monarchy, even whilst we offer prayers for Charles and Camilla as they take on the roles of King and Queen Consort.
I go to bed reflecting that the times feel yet more difficult than they did this morning, but remembering John Wesley’s words from his own death bed: “The best of all is God is with us”.
