It was my original intention
to publish this post in two parts. The
first dealing with the event in general terms, the second in specifics. The second part was never completed, and
languished. I decided that, really, a
second part was not justified – it would have been arcane and largely negative
in tone. Instead, both have been edited in to a single, and I hope not too
arcane post. I have been unable, though,
to exorcise the negativity.
"In this way the Imperial power, exerted with order and
measure, thus represents the harmony and movement which the Creator has
installed in all things."
De Ceremoniis Aulae Byzantinae
It is a week since the Coronation and I have been pondering upon
what we witnessed. On Thursday Allan Barton committed his thoughts to video on
YouTube here and
this has helped clarify my own thoughts. I should add here that those Anglican
clergy I follow on Twitter (and they are few - I have found to my cost that
there really is nothing worse for my faith than a trawl through Anglican
Twitter. It's enough to make you want to throw in the towel.) have, in the
aftermath of the Coronation remained conspicuously silent.
In
revising this post nearly a year later, I have come to see the Coronation as an
embodiment of the ‘Meaning Crisis’, and its particular manifestation in the ‘Crisis
of Ritual’. I think it is also manifest
in a number of recent Royal occasions such as the last three of the Queen’s
Jubilees and the Thanksgiving for the Life of the Duke of Edinburgh
(Westminster Abbey, 29.03.2022.). And it was present at the other religious service held to inaugurate the new reign, the 'Service of Thanksgiving and Dedication' held at the High Kirk of St Giles in Edinburgh.
However, first let me say that there were a number of places in
the service that were incredibly moving, most importantly the Anointing, and
the investiture that immediately followed.1 It is
telling that in both instances the music took precedence over the words of the
liturgy, and the effect almost overwhelming, as the service, with its unity of
music and ritual, edged towards a sort of spiritual gesamtkunstwerk. A moment
of total integration, of axial alignment. However, as Dr Barton points out that this was
an innovation, not really that Anglican or even Protestant, but seemed to hark
back to an earlier manner of doing things. The truth is that, even without
those fleeting moments of sublimity, the coronation is a glimpse, no matter how
much through a glass darkly, of the Pre-Modern. No wonder the likes of the Guardian have been
so snarky, so embittered by it. There has been a lot of elite 'coping' and the
efforts of Polly Toynbee and Timothy Garton Ash have been conspicuously
desperate. For the Coronation, at this
time, is almost an act of defiance. It represents both an alternative source of
authority and a different way of viewing the world, and they, rightly or
wrongly, perceive it as a threat. No wonder
all those politicians, huddled together in the choir stalls, looked so sullen
and resentful, so uncomprehending. A
conflict between the enchantment and dis-enchantment of the world. Be that all as
it may, those rare moments of integration I mentioned above were only possible
thanks to some wonderful music and wonderful musicianship.
That a full-blown coronation should have happened at all is, in itself,
something to be extremely thankful for. There were times a few years ago
when it seemed highly unlikely - all the talk was of a 'multifaith installation
service'. Prince Charles - as he was then - was rumoured to be in favour. In
2006, and based on an essay in The Spectator, the Daily Mail ran an article to
that effect, suggesting that the Prince wanted a second service on Coronation
Day in Westminster Hall in which the leaders of the various faith communities
would play an active part. Lord Carey, former Archbishop of Canterbury, was
said to be supportive, but Rowan Williams, the then archbishop, against. In
some ways the article was merely repeated what the Dean of Westminster, Wesley
Carr, had written in 2002. As late as 2014 Lord Harries of Pentregarth, the
former Bishop of Oxford, was calling for the Quran to read at the Coronation.
However little of this came to pass. In fact as James Walters, of the LSE,
points out here there
was very little multi-faith content to the coronation at all. Perhaps the
King's age put a stop to that idea, or maybe, as Walters suggests, the culture
had just simply moved on.
At this point I should speak here, I suppose, of my own response
to events in the build-up to the Coronation. To be honest they were decidedly
ambiguous. The Coronation has held a particular place in my imagination for
years. A rather exalted position. And so perhaps, I have to admit, the reality
was never going to come close to the ideal of my imaginings. The return
of my depression also did much to dampen my enthusiasm. But those
considerations aside, I had a deep unease over the nature of the forthcoming
event, re-assured though I was that we would not be getting an 'installation
service'. The time allowed to prepare for
the Coronation seemed inadequate, after all the Queen’s Coronation had taken
over a year to organise. The incessant drip-drip-drip
of information by the authorities involved did little to reassure. Information
that was sometimes later to be completely countermanded. And what material was
available through official channels such as websites seemed trivial -
inadequate for the nature of the event, as though the authorities, like the
politicians in the abbey, either didn't understand or were just simply
embarrassed by such an anachronism.
There seemed to be no concerted effort to explain what was about to
happen. It was, one should remember, the
first PR Coronation. And then there were
the repeated delays; the official, definitive order of service did not appear
until late on the eve of the coronation. None of this was particularly
re-assuring, or edifying. There was talk in the press (viz: Private Eye &
the Daily Mail) of serious disagreements between the two palaces - Buckingham
and Lambeth. It was said that the church dug its heels in, thereby ensuring a
service along traditional lines. For that alone we can and should indeed be
thankful.
So, on the day I was, in a way, unprepared for what I saw; Oh, all the right music was played, and all the rituals were conducted and as I have said I was at times deeply moved, but there was a sort of unreality to it all that I find difficult to define. In truth, compared to the Coronations of the 20th century, in particular those of 1937 & 1953, it was, this time around, pretty much a milk-and-water affair. There was simply something lacking. A sense of narrative? And with it a sense of liturgical and aesthetic clarity? And, far more importantly, a sense of the numinous? Sadly, all were conspicuous by their absence. 2
And while some of the changes to the
order of service stemmed from the relatively short time in which to organise
the event, the majority were no doubt undertaken with an eye to the age of the
King and Queen, just as it should be. However, a lot of decisions just seemed
arbitrary, and rather pointless, such as the use of the presence of the 6th
century ‘St Augustine Gospels’ at the Proclamation of the Gospel. I think a lot of these can be ascribed not
only to the King's dilettantism but to his rather patrician-inflected
Perennialism. Whatever the reason, result
was an oddly parochial affair, as though it was a society wedding, rather than
an event of national and international significance. It wasn't helped by the
decision to use Common Worship rather than the Book of Common Prayer.3 These sorts of decisions tended to exert a
centrifugal force on the liturgy fragmenting its narrative clarity.4
I realise that circumstances have changed
and an ‘Imperial’ coronation was never going to be enacted, however I believe
it was still possible to create something that is cogent and compelling, even at
a time of ‘Meaning Crisis’. To illustrate
by point I think a useful comparison can be drawn at this point between the Coronation
and the funerals of both the Duke of Edinburgh & the Queen. Both retained a sense of clarity and narrative
and were profoundly moving having a reach that was both national and
international. Perhaps importantly, they
were the work of a previous generation (and one that had been through WWII). They were personal, but that element of the
ego was subsumed to function of the service which, as a sort of ‘Rite of
passage’, a ‘Life-cycle Ritual’, is concerned with the passage of the deceased from
the seen to the unseen, and the passage of the bereaved from one set of
relationships to another. Sadly, I don’t
believe this can be said of the Coronation. The opportunity for proper catechesis,5 both before and
during the service (i.e. the sermon), to explain what is a complex and rarely seen
ritual, was not taken. Neither was there
any attempt to make manifest the transcendental, let alone begin the task of re-enchantment. The choices made in the ‘lead-up’ to the event
worked for the opposite.
That such a service occurred at all was
almost miraculous, but it was achieved by the skin of our teeth. God alone knows what we'll get with the next
king. I am not at all hopeful.
1 Even
watching these two rituals back now a fortnight later they move me profoundly.
There is a moment in particular just after the anointing when the screens are
removed to reveal the King kneeling and prayed over by the archbishops and
assistant bishops that each time just catches my breath.
3
And there was that bizarre comment made by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin
Welby, during his sermon about 'Jesus laying down his privilege' - so God has
'privilege'? It was just ill considered, a stupid thing to say.
4 The same applies to the music at the
Coronation. There were a lot of new commissions - in itself a good thing
- but the diversity of music styles/approaches tended to dislocate the service.
The relatively short ‘lead-up time’ to
the Coronation may have contributed to this – it being easier to commission
five composers to each work on a section of the ‘ordinary’ than one composer
work on the whole thing. However, this
slightly scatter gun approach reflects a facet of the new King's
character.
5 In preparation for the Late Queen’s
Coronation the then Archbishop of Canterbury prepared a booklet of devotions
for the Queen’s use during the month leading to the event. It was entitled: ‘To the Queen: A little book
of private Devotions in Preparation for Her Majesty’s Coronation.’
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