Hope reborn in the Carolean era

In splendid mystery, as it has for a thousand years, the Coronation service worked its magic. In the words of the prophet Isaiah, the oil of joy was poured out, and we were all called, once again, to celebration and renewal.

It is appropriate that the most solemn moment of the ceremony, His Majesty’s anointing, took place behind a screen and away from the cameras. For all the grandeur and beauty of the more public elements of the day, this was also, at its core, about one man accepting the blessing of God, and receiving the symbol of his grace. Before the anointing began, the choir sang “Come, Holy Ghost”, as has happened in coronations for centuries. Indeed, the very antiquity of yesterday’s ceremony was the guarantee of its enduring power: reimagined, yes, but still deeply-rooted.

For the vast majority of Britons watching, to witness a Coronation was a first-ever experience. King Charles III himself was only four when his mother was crowned in 1953, and Britain has changed enormously since then. Yet thanks in part to our new monarch’s belief that progress and tradition can go hand in hand, the resulting ceremony blended the ancient and new marvellously, as if it was always destined to be this way. This deeply Christian moment found room for people of all faiths, with the perfectly crafted inclusion of leaders from non-Anglican denominations, as well as representatives of other major beliefs, reaching out to modern Britain. The Epistle was read by Rishi Sunak, a Hindu, adding to the historic nature of the occasion.

It was progressive traditionalism in action, without watering down the essentials. The King received his birthright on a wooden throne 700 years old. The use of the 6th-century Augustine Gospels revealed a living tradition older than England itself. The King was anointed. The Church of England reasserted its position as the nation’s established Church. And through this, somehow, in a land where Christian worship is in retreat, a deeply traditional and religious service was able to speak in terms all could appreciate: of love and hope.

These traditions are filled with meaning. They are the proud emblem of an arrangement that has guaranteed centuries of peace, liberty and prosperity – and that success is reflected not just in the ancient pageantry of the Coronation, enacted flawlessly yesterday, but also in its enduring scale. The world and its billions witnessed an event that matters not just for the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but for the 14 other Commonwealth realms who also know Charles III as their king. Before Commonwealth leaders and the hundreds of dignitaries representing governments from more than 200 countries, Charles was crowned as a monarch for millions, whatever their background or faith.

Anyone in doubt of the monarchy’s unifying reach should look at the crowds that thronged around Buckingham Palace in the service’s aftermath. Countrymen and women who came from all walks of life shared the same purpose: they had braved the rain, and stood for hours, to see their new King. This was testament to the fact, as Sir Winston Churchill said in 1948 on the occasion of the birth of the then Prince Charles, the British monarchy exists above “the ebb and flow of party strife, the rise and fall of ministries and individuals, the changes of public opinion or public fortune”. Our country has been transformed by technological advances, mass immigration and geopolitical events, but the monarchy’s calm, open continuity has remained firm.

Indeed, it is arguably needed now more than at any time in our recent history. The palace opposite Westminster Abbey, containing both houses of Parliament, has seen politics grow more polarised, underpinned by the rapid advance of social media, which, while good in many ways, has encouraged division. The Covid pandemic, and its mismanagement by politicians, dealt a devastating hit to our social cohesion. The war in Ukraine has had severe economic costs. The return of inflation has forced households to tighten their belts. And perhaps most concerning of all, individuals both young and old suffer from long-term loneliness. It is in this context that the renewal of the monarchy, through the crowning of our King, became a necessity. The nation was in need of hope.

In the Archbishop of Canterbury’s sermon, he celebrated service as love in action. That is not just a responsibility for the King, but for all of us. Today, in the Coronation Big Lunch, an army of volunteers will help to pay forward that spirit in an act of mass service and companionship. The events – and there are more than 3,700 of them planned up and down the country – will see our streets transformed by communal celebration. The advance coverage may have been about planning challenges and the coronation quiche recipe, but it is the shared bonds of affection across the street-party tables that this great grass-roots event is really about.

The Coronation itself was in many ways already a tremendous celebration of that spirit of shared connection and charitable service. That was true not only in the rededication of the King to the country, but in the choices he helped make for those invited to join the congregation: representatives of good causes, the Armed Forces and emergency services and so many others.

As the King’s new reign begins, we must hope that this spirit of service will continue to inspire and reinvigorate the nation in the years ahead. We have witnessed a remarkable day in history. Now it is up to all of us to live up to that promise. Long live the King.