What Was Missing at the Jubilee?

It was certainly an occasion to celebrate. Britain’s long-reigning, and, during the past decade in particular, longsuffering sovereign was wined, dined, entertained and praised in one of the greatest celebrations the city of London had ever witnessed. The occasion was the Golden Jubilee weekend, extending to three days of robust outpouring of joyous emotion and celebration in recognition of Queen Elizabeth’s 50 years on the throne as ruling monarch of Britain and its Commonwealth of Nations.

Yet, as the long weekend’s celebrations unfolded, it became apparent that what was being exhibited to the world was not just a depiction of Britain’s past fame and glory. It was also a witness to that nation’s increasing loss of pride in its true heritage and a sad exhibition of that which has replaced it.

To those in this history-ignorant society who study, understand and remember the glory that was once Britain’s, the moving crescendo of Handel’s “Zadok the Priest” sung by the great choir at the open-air Prom at the Palace pointed to the heart and core of what this jubilee was all about. Yet few would have been aware of this, nor of the sacred meaning behind the royal office currently held by Queen Elizabeth ii (see “Personal,” p. 1). Britons have largely lost their memory as to why they celebrate with such gusto on such anniversaries!

The formality of the church service at majestic St. Paul’s Cathedral, a service of thanksgiving for the Queen’s reign, and the jubilee celebrations which followed the next day at Windsor and Slough, all were organized with impeccable timing and typical British enterprise. The pageantry, pomp and circumstance which the British do better than any other people gave witness to the fact that there is something special—not understood by most—about the continuity of this royal line.

Surely this was a right royal occasion! The richness of the colors associated with royalty—the lavish gold of the royal coach, the rich and sumptuous purples, red, white and blue—the impeccably groomed Windsor grays drawing the coach, the fitting garb of the footmen and postilions, the blast of fanfares on trumpets, the order and aplomb of the many officers and agents of the Crown who addressed their duties with that smooth, even suave approach of the English gentleman of a bygone age. This sent vibrations running through the millions watching around the world as the weekend’s activities were beamed to the farthest-flung old colonial outposts of what was once Britain’s mighty empire.

But all this revelry over that which once was—a Great Britain with great statesmen, great inventors, great warriors, a grand navy and heroes of legend—this was suddenly smashed as the wailing chords of an electric guitar screamed out from the rooftop of Buckingham Palace to announce the start of what was billed as the Golden Jubilee Pop Concert.

What followed was a sad depiction of today’s dumbing down from true culture to sub-culture: a drooling, slack-jawed fixation on the most banal, cretinous, warped and perverse forms of “entertainment” ever foisted off onto a generation since Sodom and the circuses of Rome. Surely no greater bevy of transvestites, homosexuals, lesbians and assorted mixtures in between had ever been drawn together from their drug-soaked pads to one single stage.

What a paradox!

Here were assembled 47 blue-blooded royals of aristocratic, regal heritage to witness the cavorting, screaming, self-indulgent shenanigans of a collection of perverse “entertainers.” The effect to the sound-minded was jarring! Here were those whose singular talent seemed to be expressing the sheer lack of taste, talent or true finesse, refinement and elegance, and casting this in the face of any who were caught up in the reverie of the memory of how it once was when Great Britain had a real pride in its past!

Here was a sad demonstration of Britain’s shame! The shame of a broken pride in its past power!

Perhaps the jarring cacophony that boomed deafeningly from the giant loudspeakers prompted a memory in at least some of those who had lived to know Britain’s past glory days, who felt that something of Britain’s traditional manner of celebrating such grand events was missing. Where were the great regimental bands? Where was the expression of military power and might that once made British chests swell with pride as the sound of brass and the skirl of the pipes heralded the crunch of marching feet, and row upon row of well-drilled troops marched in honor of a king or queen who bathed in the thrilling exhibition? It simply was not there!

It was not so much that the present prime minister had a policy of dismantling the famous old regiments of Britain’s glorious past; not so much that he’d closed down numerous wonderful displays of regalia and mementos of battle that had made up many a fine regimental display across Britain. It was the fact that no one had sufficient pride in these symbols of power left to pay them any deference! This celebration, the minions of government had decided, had to be so touchy-feely that a prime minister’s wife could prance on stage singing rock songs—so in touch with the perceived “needs” of the public that a female host could mouth an expletive during her commentary in front of an audience of millions via the bbc!

Yes, the crowds were there, one million in London, waving their flags and giving honor to their Queen. But they had simply lost the memory of why!

Just a century ago, that was not the case. Britain then had real power and a real pride in that power! What’s more, Britain then gave credit to Almighty God for giving that power. That was a time when the British had no other explanation as to how they were gifted such a vast empire.

Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee in June 1887 did not cater to the taste of a touchy-feely public. The age of elegance, of quality entertainment, of true art, culture and taste had not yet died.

What has happened to Britain in just 115 years is a clear demonstration of the fulfillment of biblical prophecy. Speaking of that which would befall their nation if the British peoples rebelled against their God and lost sight of the reason for their once great power, gifted to them by their Creator, God declared, “[I]f ye will not hearken unto me, and will not do all [my] commandments … I will break the pride of your power” (Lev. 26:14, 19).

If you were one who wondered what was missing during the jubilee celebrations in London, there is the answer! Britain’s national pride has been broken! Yes, Britain rejoices in celebrating the only thing which gives that nation and its dominions a feeling of continuity, in a vain effort to fill the vacuum created by its loss of power as a once-great nation. But people no longer remember why! So Britain turns to the banal, the crass, the tasteless, the futile in a subconscious expression of shame in its once-great, God-given, imperial heritage.