Yesterday I cancelled my social ethics class so that all of our students could watch the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II. The ceremony was somber and moving. Following the ceremony at Westminster Abbey, Tara and her sister watched the processional to Buckingham Palace and then the final burial of the Queen. I made my way to City Centre with my nephew, who is visiting. The town was quiet. Most shops were closed for the Bank Holiday. England and the world seemed to stop for a moment.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the death of the queen over the last week and wrestling with my own ambivalence about the moment. On the one hand, I see the emotional impact of her death on the people around me. It is a really big deal here. Walking down the street, wandering into churches, each with its own picture of the queen next to a candle or a guest book inviting visitors to leave a message, how can you not be moved?
On the other hand, as I reflect on my own feelings about the queen’s death I feel the Anabaptist hackles born from my upbringing rising fast. This quick merging of Christian faith and the state sits uncomfortably for me, growing up in the Churches of Christ where the very idea of uniting flag and church was anathema. This is changing, to be sure. I’m troubled by this in my own country, so I find myself likewise troubled with the way that the wedding of church and state is a taken-for-granted thing in my host country.
During the last two weeks, worship at St. Andrew’s Church has included a substantial portion of the service devoted to memorializing the queen, lifting her up as a fitting example of Christian virtue who gave her life to the service of her country and whose personal faith in the Lord Jesus Christ remained steadfast unto death. This Sunday while visiting with the priest who preached both days, I told him, “We Americans have no way of making sense of local feelings about the queen’s death, and for most of us her prominence in worship is something for which we have no analogy.” His reply was interesting: “Well, it’s an extraordinary thing for us as well. We are ‘low church,’ so this is something we are not used to either.” I’m still pondering what he might mean by his use of the phrase “low church.” I know that the high/low church dichotomy typically references liturgical styles (formal v. informal, traditional v. contemporary, etc.), not perspectives on the role of ceremonial heads of state in Christian worship. I think the priest was trying to say that the primary focus of liturgy at St. Andrew’s is drawing the community closer into relationship with Jesus Christ. I believe this to be true, and in this respect even the homily’s references to the queen drew the congregation back to seeing her as a Christian example to whom we can look to, giving thanks to God for her life of service.
I continue to wrestle with my own misgiving. All of this is to say that I probably need to attend our global studies course during the next week or two. I believe I have a lot to learn.
Tonight our students are hosting round 2 of the Great ACU Study Abroad Bakeoff. Tonight’s challenge: cookies. We have three bakers (four actually; our twins Victoria and Vanessa are baking together). It will be fun! Tara and her sister and nephew headed out this morning for Southampton. They will be there for the next 2 days. Earlier today I finished a 14 mile ramble from Oxford to Newbridge, bringing my total distance covered on the Thames River Path to 65 miles. My next blog post will detail this leg of my journey.
Tomorrow is a heavy teaching day for me. Things continue to go well. It is a pleasure to get to live alongside and teach college students in our Study Abroad program.