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The Narratives of Monarchies

Royalty is at once a mirror and a maker of culture.

Monarchies and the subsequent narratives that are found throughout history are a peculiar source of perennial interest. This interest has served to meet a universal human need for narrative. And those narratives often involve the passions and actions of the seemingly great. Homer told the story of the Trojan War in part through the joys and agonies of Achilles and Priam and Hector. Several of Shakespeare's most enduring plays are about the heads that wear the crown... or wish to. Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s consort in the mid-1800s, provided insight that the durability of constitutional monarchy could be enhanced if the royal family appeared to be an ideal version of the ordinary English family. That is to say that its manners and morals served as a kind of unfolding example for the nation.

There were also other schools of thought. In 1867, the writer and editor Walter Bagehot, in describing the British monarchy, wrote:

“Above all things our royalty is to be referenced, and if you begin to poke about it you cannot reference it… Its mystery is its life. We must not let in daylight upon magic.”

It's an interesting viewpoint that perhaps once served its purposes to paupers and debutants alike. But it seems that daylight would only prove essential to preserving monarchies through the storms of modernity. Storm after storm has struck monarchies throughout history. After all, kings and queens are but flesh and blood, and history is filled with the narratives of those who failed miserably in their rule and in their day-to-day affairs.

Perhaps one of the most existential storms is found in the pages of the Old Testament. For in it is told of one such monarch who, the narrative shows, is pictured as having a house divided. One where the sins of the father had dire consequences not only to the royal family, but to his subjects as well. That king is David.

It was Shakespeare who succinctly turned the phrase that Samuel tried to tell the people and that Saul and David learned for themselves. “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” We realize that the dramatist was writing about England's Henry IV, but it may well be true for any crowned head. Indeed, heavy is the head that wears the crown. The responsibility... nay the duty of the king is difficult. Kings have tremendous influence to sway nations… for better or for worse.

And David was no exception. His is a story with humble beginnings. No pomp and circumstance. Just an anointing of his head with oil in a field outside of Bethlehem by the prophet Samuel. Called to lead the Lord’s people from his vocation as a shepherd, he is described on numerous occasions as a man after God’s own heart (1 Samuel 13.14). And yet, where one might expect the recorded narratives to represent David’s life as one of glorious conquest tempered by a majestic, righteous rule, the stories found in 2 Samuel present the picture of a man who failed his family and the nation miserably. The king was far from being morally pure. The portrayals of contentious events are indeed brought to light. It seems that after his sin with Bathsheba, David is not the same man he once was. Whether attributed to the immense guilt of his sin weighing him down, it’s evident that, at the very least, after Bathsheba, he is a man of indecision. Time and time again he fails to right the wrongs in his own household. And subsequently is embroiled in a coupe led by his own son Absalom that threatens to tear the very fabric of the nation in two. His is a narrative where daylight served to shine a light upon every fabric of his being as seen vividly in various psalms.

And yet, it is from his lineage that the Christ will come. From humble beginnings too. At first glance, one might be struck by the absurdity of it all. Why not paint the narrative like those of the British royalty and others we find throughout history? After all, "we must not let in daylight upon magic."

The answer, it seems, lies in the fact that the inspired writers of the Holy Writ were recorders of truth. Not commissioned by those who sought to control the narrative to serve their own ulterior motives. Nor to enhance the mystery of a particular monarchy. To sway the masses that this was someone who was larger than life. That this was a man to be emulated in every facet of his life. A righteous ruler who would reign justly. Whose manners and morals are to be mimicked by all. Here is a man with defects and imperfections. Chosen by God to rule and yet also ultimately pointing the way to the One who would someday fulfill the role of a true sovereign. One whose light shines through the darkness and illuminates all. One in whom there are to be found no cracks in the armor.

No. It would be thousands of years later when the true sovereign would come onto the scene and display a life that all could imitate. One whose absolute lordship arises out of the perfections of the Supreme Being. He, and He alone, was affirmed by the Father:

"This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him."

Matthew 17.5b

Who knows why storms in royal houses endure? Perhaps because we deem ourselves rather more sophisticated than some observers might think. We endure embarrassment. We endure shadow as well as savoring the sun. Might it be that the cry of our times is the same as that expressed in Psalms 2.2-3?

The kings of the earth take their stand, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against His Anointed: 'Let us tear their fetters apart, and cast their cords from us!'

Could it be that when we see the flaws in the kings and queens, those who have rule over us, past, present and future, we simply wish to be autonomous? Refusing to bend our will to the authority of others who are in positions of rule? Royalty is indeed a mirror and maker of culture. And when viewed through a transparent lens we become disenchanted with kingship and yes even authority.

We see the blemishes, the imperfections and the shortfalls in the characters of men and, in turn, look to our own devices to right the wrongs. But we in fact are shortsighted. If we are honest with ourselves, we, like the Israelites of old, yearn for a king. One who will lead us to salvation. Who is righteous and just. And all the while, failing to see that He has been there all the while. Indeed, "the Lord is good to all and His mercies are over all His works... The eyes of all look to Thee, and Thou dost give them their food in due time. Thou dost open Thy hand, and dost satisfy the desire of every living thing."

Psalm 145.9, 15-16

Bagehot's opening lines ring true: "Above all things our royalty is to be referenced." And reference it we do through creation and His inspired Word. God is sovereign. God is near. And His immanence reflects an intimate relationship with the created. With us. This timeless truth is a marvel beyond comprehension. We are in and have always been in the immediate presence of the King of kings and Lord of lords.

"Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of His glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen."

Jude 24-25

It is the narrative of THE monarchy. Could there be any greater cause for wonder or praise?