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It didn’t bother me to watch the coronation. I was always going to, not least because I remember the last one. Despite astrologers' claims that the date of the coronation of King Charles III was a bad omen, the day was a moment of celebration for many; a chance to watch some history and hear some pretty decent music.
Roald Dahl's beloved children's books have been given a makeover, with 'sensitivity readers' rewording phrases that might offend modern sensibilities. But what has been lost in this sanitisation of Dahl's work? Do we risk losing the very essence of what makes these works so powerful and enduring?
The ‘no religion’ question is complicated and interesting and connected with social change. We live in a much more complex world than previously. Even in my own childhood, it was accepted as a fact that most people were believers of varying degrees of conviction and form. Agnosticism and atheism were not matters for discussion.
My mother often reminded us that she was the same age as the queen. They were both stoic to the point of being difficult to understand. There was never any doubt that, living by their lights, they would spend every breath doing what they felt called to do. Self-indulgence was hardly part of their vocabulary; along with that, they didn’t indulge others much either. The generation of 1926 was made of sturdy timber.
In August 1660, the English Parliament passed the Indemnity and Oblivion Act, targeting those involved in the trial and execution of Charles I. The death warrant for Charles I had been signed by 59 judges, and 31 of them were still alive in 1660. Those caught suffered a terrible death of being hanged, drawn and quartered. Pursuit of the guilty was unremitting. Act of Oblivion follows the careers of three regicides and Civil War veterans who fled to the British colonies in America.
The town celebrated Guy Fawkes day and burned an effigy of the man who tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament centuries before. For days beforehand, even as the holy women left the churches where they had prayed for the release of souls from punishment, children would be dragging carts and prams around with Guy Fawkes dummies they’d made, stuffed with straw and newspaper like scarecrows, easy to burn.
The campaign against global warming has been heating up, and the latest protests have focused on works of art. Like the burning of books, assaults on paintings seemed to express contempt for human culture at its noblest. But as more details became public, the reality seemed more complex.
What would the world have been like today if the Reformation had not happened? Would it really have been a better Church and a better world? And how, indeed, can we evaluate these enormous historical events?
Jonathan Freedland’s book is an extremely harrowing tour de force: at one stage I could read only a chapter at a time. But by the end I had been reminded of the power of the human spirit, and of the way in which some people, those with a sense of mission, can endure almost any trial. Resilience is a great gift.
There is no popular groundswell for constitutional change in the direction of a republic just at this moment. The parliamentary recess, the proclamation by the Governor General of our fealty to the new King, and the public holiday were all a bit embarrassing. The parade being over, we can go back to gawking at the Royal Family much like Americans do. The question of what monarchy means for us feels best left alone for a while.
The Queen’s life of overt public religion — which led her to become perhaps the twentieth century’s greatest Christian evangelist — was grounded in her conviction in the Gospels’ truth. And she interpreted Jesus’ story generously and ecumenically, broadening her role from the narrow Anglican identity of Supreme Governor of the Church of England to become an advocate by example for faiths of every kind.
Republican sentiments from prominent Australians did not ever preclude great personal admiration for Queen Elizabeth for her devotion and service. Now, following her death, attention has particularly turned to her Christian faith. Following the lead of Pope Francis, the Australian bishops have joined in widespread community admiration. Pope Francis spoke of ‘her steadfast witness of faith in Jesus Christ and her firm hope in her promises’.