Yesterday, I baptised Oscar, a baby boy. Baptism
marks the beginning of a lifelong journey of faith, that ends with our funeral—at
which point, a new journey begins. This is why, in some traditions within the
Church, the coffin is sprinkled with water from the baptismal font as it enters
the church. Between these two points, our baptism and our funeral, we speak of
the Christian life as a pilgrimage we undertake with others. At the heart of
the baptismal rite, I declare:
‘N, I baptize you
in the name of the Father,
and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
‘May God, who has received you by baptism into his Church,
pour upon you the riches of his grace,
that within the company of Christ’s pilgrim people
you may daily be renewed by his anointing Spirit,
and come to the inheritance of the saints in glory.
Amen.’
Over recent days, we have witnessed The Queue, a
long procession of people, from all over the world, who have made a journey to
the Queen, lying-in-state. For the final stages of their journey, they have
walked alongside others, strangers to them, in a shared, and ordered,
experience. People of surprisingly diverse backgrounds. Their reasons for
making the journey are many and various—selfless and self-centred; we do not
get to choose those we queue with—and, for some at least, hard to put into
words. As they have walked, strangers have become friends, perhaps even family.
As they have reached their desired destination, we have seen people bow, or
salute, or make the sign of the cross, or keep their cap on until the last
moment so as to doff it. And afterwards, just moments later, they are spilled
out, into the city, perhaps into the night. What then? Some have rejoined The
Queue, others have returned home. All will carry this experience for the rest
of their lives. Will it make a difference? For some, undoubtedly.
Without any doubt, this has been a pilgrimage. And
those who don’t ‘get’ that are unable to appreciate what has taken place, and
why. Why so many have needed to make this journey, to pay their respects, to give
thanks for a life lived in the service of others. They can only dismiss it as
folly, scandal even. Which, for me, is yet another evidence that this is a
pilgrimage.
The catafalque in Westminster Hall has been a
resting place, not only for the Queen’s coffin, but for every pilgrim who has
made the journey to stand before it. May they all be renewed for their onward
journey. May they all come, at last, to their final destination, the
inheritance of the saints in glory.
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