A tale of two cities…

Edinburgh and London, September, 2022. The first has been sombre and restrained, the second has been brighter. The one has welcomed the arrival of the late Queen’s mortal remains to lie in state before heading south. The other filled with people looking excitedly for a glimpse of the new King as he takes up the responsibilities and burdens as head of state, even while grieving the loss of his mother. So many emotions, and a number of contrasts.

As so many have noted in these days, Queen Elizabeth II was (as we now have to get used to saying) a remarkable woman and a remarkable sovereign. Having lived one of the most scrutinized of lives, she is no less scrutinized in death. From the announcement of her passing at around 6.30pm on Thursday 8^th September, cameras were trained on the gates of Balmoral (where she died), as well as following all the intricate actions that seamlessly accomplish as well as evidence the succession. On Sunday the coffin containing her remains, draped in the Scottish Royal Standard, was driven from Balmoral to Edinburgh, with a helicopter filming from above. This had the added benefit of demonstrating again the impact the Queen’s death has had on so many. Throughout even relatively sparsely populated sections of the Scottish countryside, ordinary folk made their way to stand by the side of the road and pay their respects. By the time the cortege reached Edinburgh, where the route included the Royal Mile, ending in Holyrood Palace, the crowds were six or seven deep on both sides of the road. The quiet, respectful murmur of the crowd was interrupted by a wave of equally respectful applause.

Scotland, it is claimed, is unsure of its place in the state of which the Queen was head. She had made no secret of her love for Balmoral and its setting. It was where she spent her last days on earth. Just last week, in the first time for a long time, a departing Prime Minister had to make his way there to resign, and the newly elected leader of the largest party in the Commons had to make her way there to be offered the position. The Queen’s relationship with the locals around Balmoral was a warm one, and they and many others made their way to Balmoral’s gates to make their feelings clear. It is notable that the Queen rose so high above the political arguments over independence. Of course she inherited the crown of Scotland by right, independent of her status in the rest of the United Kingdom. She was a direct descendant of James VI. But given the level of political argument over Scotland’s status, one referendum behind us and perhaps another one to come, the affection in which she was held by Scots was amply demonstrated by the crowds. There will be many a Scots tear shed when, shortly, she leaves Scotland for the last time. Whether her departure will mark a turn to a republican frame of mind remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, over the weekend, the events that confirm the accession of the new King continued to unfold back in London. For the first time we were all able to see the meeting of the Privy Council as an Accession Council on Saturday. Over previous centuries this had only been witnessed by Privy Councillors themselves, and then only by relatively few. Now, millions of us could observe the inner workings of the British constitution. Again Scotland loomed large. King Charles III will take a number of oaths at the time of his coronation. But long before that he has already taken an oath to “inviolably maintain and preserve the settlement of the true protestant religion as established by the laws made in Scotland”. This is part of the constitutional settlement that brought about Union in 1707. In what is seemingly becoming a secular state, this must have bemused many of his subjects, including Presbyterians back in Scotland who seem to have little notion of what the “true protestant religion” actually is.

Today (Monday) Edinburgh witnessed the solemn sight of the Queen's coffin, with the Royal Family walking close by, being taken from the Palace of Holyrood, to lie in St Giles Cathedral. The new King joined his grieving family there having completed another key ceremonial task back in London. Both the Lords and the Commons have met to allow their members to pay tribute to the Queen. All of the speeches were personal, many of them were moving. One thing that was striking was the number who highlighted the Queen’s personal faith in Christ. While this has been observed by all, it is clearly more meaningful and personal for some. Those who were not just subjects of Her Majesty, but fellow believers with her, were able to bring a special focus to her faith and witness pointing out that hers was no mere formal or official religion. She bore a personal commitment to a King higher than herself; this was what had liberated her to perform her duties in the way that she did. I have no way of knowing the extent to which these speeches, just a small subset of so many being made across the world, will have an impact on the King. But today all of Parliament, along with the King and his Queen Consort, gathered in Westminster Hall to hear the Speakers of both Commons and Lords remember the Queen and express condolences to the King and the Royal Family for their loss. It was a reminder of both the public and personal. We have all lost a Queen; Charles has lost a mother.

Then the King was on his way to Edinburgh from London for another procession, more ceremony, further words of remembrance and condolence. Then the Queens coffin will leave Scotland for good, and head to London to lie in state before the funeral next week. The divided focus on two cities, will again be concentrated in one place. The past will give way to the future. There are new memories to be made, and a new reign will unfold. But even in an age of rampant materialism and naturalism, the usually unseen hold of the unseen has been laid bare. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, moved to tears by the death of someone who was inevitably remote from most, bereaved by the loss of a near stranger. And those invisible cords of history that makes a nation out of a people, have been revealed for the strength that they provide even if they are poorly understood and appreciated. A whole hidden world revealed, if only temporally.

It turns out there more to life than meets the eye. We’ll all be praying God save the King, as He surely did his mother.

Keswick 22.3: Beyond the big tent…..

The Keswick Convention for us is over, and we have moved on. Indeed, we have moved north on our summer road trip. We spent a good part of today wandering around Edinburgh, our former home. When we first married, we settled here. In driving in to the city we made a short detour to drive past our first flat. Two of our children were born in Edinburgh (one studied here and hasn’t yet left). Even when stuffed with summer tourists it is a beautiful place. And, as we are obviously north of the (currently fictional) border, it was the Scottish edition of the Times that we bought today. Scotland these days is said by some to be a fairly Godless place. The national church, as opposed to the Church, is in rapid, if not yet quite terminal decline. Government here, particularly its Green Party element, is relentlessly secular. And yet today I found two church stories in the Scottish edition of the Times (unfortunately behind a paywall, otherwise I’d provide links to the stories). For different reasons, neither of them is particularly encouraging, at least when taken at face value.

On page 5 is a story about Destiny Church, described as “an American evangelical church”. Destiny Church and Ministries was founded in Glasgow around 1990. Its belief statement on its website certainly declares that it teaches everything you would expect in an evangelical church, with a few additions. It falls into the charismatic camp, with the expected prominence given to teaching about the Holy Spirit, and an attachment to claimed miracles such as healings. In the past it has had associations with “prosperity gospel” teachers such as the appropriately named Creflo Dollar. It has now suffered some splits and defections, with complaints about financial irregularities and exploitation of members being made to the charity authorities in Scotland. Hence the story in today’s paper. I have no notion whether there is any truth in these accusations, and I have no particular criticism to make here of Destiny. I happily confess I know little of them. However, even taking a sceptical view of some of their own claims, they provide evidence that parts of the Church are apparently far from in decline. Exactly how authentic the churches in Destiny’s network are, time (and for that matter eternity) will tell.

Then a little further on (page 23) I encountered the headline “Secular Scotland feels little need for God, warns Kirk moderator”. This is a story about the Church of Scotland’s continuing decline and indeed its own narrative of that decline. It has recognized this formally in as much as it is in the process of rationalizing (i.e. reducing) its number of parishes and posts. The incoming moderator, writing for next months “Church and Life”, is to claim “Christendom has gone” and that Scots live in a culture “that feels little need for God”. The quotations are those that the Times’ journalist has seen fit to include in the story of course. Presumably the Times has seen a copy of the Church and Life article, rather than itself claiming any prophetic insight.

I suppose that the Moderator might claim he has been misquoted. We’ll see. But it is true that there is an ongoing debate within the C of S about its decline and what it is to do. A blog post which is also quoted in the article, authored by one of the Church’s academics, gives a flavour of aspects of the ongoing discussion. The blog post focusses on how the human institution that is the C of S should organize to survive. But nowhere does it engage with the C of S’s central problem. It ceased believe and preach what was supposed to be, and historically was, at its core – the Gospel of Jesus Christ. To conclude that the C of S’s decline means that there is no appetite for the Gospel it has refused to preach is bizarre. Destiny’s story, at least in part, provides evidence to that end.

It was not really the detail of either story that caught my interest. It was that firstly both appeared at all. Again, this rather counts against the idea that there is no interest in such things here in Scotland. I assume that the newspapers, here as elsewhere, only devote column inches to what they think their readers, or at least reasonable proportion of their readers, will find interesting. The Times apparently thinks that news about Christian churches falls into that category. Admittedly you could see both as fairly depressing, and a sign of a secular media taking the opportunity to paint Christians in a poor light. But secondly, beyond the immediate contrast between the two stories themselves there are a number of other contrast that should be pointed up. And this is where Keswick is relevant.

All last week we had the confident presentation of a Gospel and its impacts based on the authoritative Word of God. The confidence was not based in the talents of speakers like Alistair Begg (a Scot as it happens) or the other main speakers, one of whom, David Gibson, is based in a growing church in Aberdeen which, while presbyterian, is not part of the Church of Scotland. These men, and others, were both confident and competent. Not in their own talents, but in the Word that they preached. Now of course the audience they were preaching to was self-selected (although in Week 1 it has a distinctly Scottish feel). Many of us were there precisely because we shared the basic presuppositions of those who were speaking. No surprises there. But we have all now dispersed, some us to that part of the UK which it is claimed “feels little need for God”. As for ourselves, we’re only visiting. But many others love and live here in Scotland. And they are no doubt back with a spring in their step, and I hope a renewed ambition to share the Gospel that the Church of Scotland is so singularly refusing to share.

In the big tent as Keswick, over three summer weeks, there will be full hearts and occasionally damp cheeks. It will be warm in more ways than one. It’s an atmosphere where it’s easy to be a Christian and committed to the Gospel. It may be harder beyond the tent, but this is where the Gospel is in desperately short supply, and therefore where it’s desperately needed.