A Millennium of Tradition and Symbolism

King Charles III of Great Britain and Northern Ireland was crowned today in Westminster Abbey.

Much of the imagery will be of the finery and the trappings of royalty; the crown, the orb and sceptre, the gilded carriage. Much will be made of the pageantry, the four thousand man and women from the armed services, the splendid (if somewhat bizarre to an outsider) uniforms of the Grenadier Guards or the Household Cavalry. 

But two things stuck me particularly today. One was an old man in his undershirt, the other a old wooden chair.  

That old man was the new King, being ceremonially undressed and then anointed by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Charles is the constitutional head of the Anglican Church, established by Henry VIII in 1543.  I was struck by the symbolism of this public display of vulnerability, of the public acknowledgement of his role as the servant of god as well as the people. 

In the second image, we see Charles standing without any finery in front of the 727-year-old Coronation Chair on which 26 monarchs, including Charles' mother, have been crowned since the coronation of Edward II in 1308. And below the seat, the Stone of Scone, on which kings and queens of Scotland have been inaugurated since the middle ages.    
       
While Britain has in large measure come to terms with its diminished role in the world, from the super-power of the 19th century to a middle size country in the north of Europe, it is still steeped in tradition and history.  That history is everywhere from the real Tudor houses with thatched rooves to the Norman churches found in so many English villages. 

It is that history, that sense of heritage, that anchors Brits and allows them to cope with the tumult of the country's changing role, its increasing diversity, its more inclusive and tolerant culture. Tradition may appear to be an obstacle to progress but it can also facilitate change by balancing the uncertainty change brings with the stability of that long heritage.