The funeral for Her late Majesty Queen Elizabeth was filled with ceremony and pageantry on the grandest scale. The sights and sounds were more than impressive. Thousands of soldiers marched and guarded the route of the funeral procession.  Military bands played a funeral dirge to the impeccable timing of the bass drum.  Inside Westminster Abbey the choral singing was sublime. Even from viewing the funeral at home in my living room one could not help but be swept up.

Every detail communicated dignity, grandeur and majesty. 

We have never before witnessed a funeral on such a scale and may never again. Hundreds of Princes,  Prime Ministers, and Presidents representing nearly every nation on earth joined together at Westminster Abbey. Alongside religious leaders, dignitaries, and ordinary members of the public, all sat together as we said farewell to Queen Elizabeth. Millions of people lined the street of London and Windsor to catch one final glimpse of a much-loved monarch. It is estimated that as many as 4 billion people across the globe watched the funeral. 

For a few days culminating in yesterday’s funeral,  the world slowed down a little. News outlets gave attention to a single story. For a period of 10 days news readers and reporters dressed in black as a sign of respect and mourning. Television stations paused normal programming, and even limiting comedy and satire out of respect for the Queen’s death. Sporting events were postponed or observed a minute’s silence. 

As I watched the funeral last night,  intently and moved by what I was hearing and seeing, I was struck by the contrast between Queen Elizabeth’s funeral and that of Her Saviour and Lord.

Instead of honour and respect from world leaders and from local populations, Jesus’ journey to the grave was marked with disdain and abandonment.  Kings and Governors didn’t honour him with kind words; they condemned him to death. Crowds didn’t line the streets to pay their respects; they jeered as he dragged a cross through the streets. Religious leaders didn’t pray for him, they mocked him. Soldiers didn’t protect him, they drove nails through his hands and feet, spat on him and gambled away his clothes.  His friends, filled with terror, either ran away or stood at a distance in shock and silence. As a final attempt to mock Jesus, a sign was placed over his head that read, “Here is the king of the Jews”. 

How and why would the Prince of glory subject himself to such ignominy? And how is it that a Queen should look to Him for mercy and grace? And how is it that this Jesus, despite the very best attempts was not erased from history but instead has become the focal point and end of history?

One of the most famous accounts of Jesus’ death was in fact written prior to that day, and yet, the prophet Isaiah foretold with precision the undertaking God’s Servant would follow. As Her Majesty had years earlier determined the details of her own funeral, so in advance, God announced the path his only Son would take,

“He was despised and rejected by mankind,
    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.

Surely he took up our pain
    and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
    stricken by him, and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed.

We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
    each of us has turned to our own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed and afflicted,
    yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
    and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,
    so he did not open his mouth.

By oppression and judgment he was taken away.
    Yet who of his generation protested?
For he was cut off from the land of the living;
    for the transgression of my people he was punished.

He was assigned a grave with the wicked,
    and with the rich in his death,
though he had done no violence,
    nor was any deceit in his mouth.”

Every detail in the Queen’s funeral suggests importance and splendour deserving of a monarch. And yet the true wonder and glory of what we saw and heard was not about Her Majesty, but about the One to whom she placed her trust. Her faith and her hope rests in the King who laid aside eternal glory and entered this broken and sinful world to die a sinner’s death as our substitute. The grandeur and awesome sights of the Queen’s funeral are but a tiny and pale reflection of the hope of resurrection she has in the One who gave his life as a ransom for many. 

It was no coincidence that these words of Jesus were read out loud during the service,

“I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.  If you really know me, you will know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”

In the part of the world where I live, we often reduce life to a bucket of cotton candy. We distract ourselves with sugary treats that promise bursts of happiness and pleasure and personal advantage. We’ve bought the marketers presentation. Life is driven by gaining sensory experiences which give us regular dumps of dopamine. The secularist’s dream and immanent frame has tried to block out transcendence with guarantees of sexual freedom and fulfilment, and offerings of entertainment, leisure, comfort and success. Eventually, the sugar rush wears off, and the realities of age, uncertainty, failure, pain and even death knock on our door. Her Majesty’s final gift was not to elevate herself and encourage the world to look at her, but rather to consider the One whom even monarchs must bow the knee. 

The hope in which Queen Elizabeth looked and trusted is for great and small alike, for royal and commoner together. Her hope rested in a King who has walked the path of suffering and death for us and who in love shares his glory with all who lay their lives at his feet. 

Take a moment to dwell on these words, which were the final words sung at Westminster Abbey and which formed part of the Scripture readings. Consider, where else can such amazing and certain hope be found?

“Finish, then, thy new creation;

true and spotless let us be.

Let us see thy great salvation

perfectly restored in thee.

Changed from glory into glory,

till in heav’n we take our place,

till we cast our crowns before thee,

lost in wonder, love and praise.”

“Where, O death, is your victory?

    Where, O death, is your sting?”

 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.  But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:55-57)