Royals

Ever since 1914—and probably even before that—the Royals in this modernizing world has steadily diminished. It’s been—to use David Crosby’s phrase—a “long time coming.” In my reading of history and Bible, and going back to the earliest days of my reading, the word “kings” has been in multiple verses. The earliest of my memory was not called “king”, but “pharoh. in that same vein were the many kings mentioned in biblical books: Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, and later of course the kings of Israel. . . Saul, David, Solomon, and so on. By the time Jesus was born, King Herod was ruling the Hebraic kingdom, but under the shadow of HIS overlord, Emperor Caesar in Rome. When Jesus was crucified by the powers that be in Jerusalem, his death , itself, was terminated when he resurrected three days later. And if you believe that, I’ve got real estate in heaven I’ll tell you about. The Bible affirmation of his life, death and resurrection concludes with his second coming, which has not yet happened. He is still honored by myself, and millions of others, as the King of Kings. But I digress. I’m thinking today about royals, and generally their place in history. After the legacy of the King of Kings, the news of his conquest of death, conquest of sin and ultimate Universal authority. . . gave rise to to a system of life that persisted in this world—especially Europe, where the “Catholic”/later Christian, church presented a type of leadership that leaders strived to duplicate for many, many centuries. Hence. . . the monarchies. This strain of leadership strove to provide living arrangements and environs for all of their “subjects. Here’s where my long store stops short, like a horse suddenly being halted by the breaking of a bridle. In the 19th century, all of those monarchies started to unwind. It started with King George VI, from whom we Americans discharged ourselves in 1776. A few years late, the French launched their version of our American revolutionary vision and, yes, war, with blood and all that. Blood, royal blood flowed when the Jacobins dropped the guillotine on King. Louis VI and Marie Antoinette. That was—the way I see it— the beginning of a long, long unwinding of royal authority and royal function in modern societies. Napolean came along, acting like a king but having not birthright. That was a big hit on monarchy. By the time the 20th century rolled around, the royals of Europe were in a deep shift. The Czar of Russia was assassinated. (The current czar is still hanging out in his power trip.) In 1914, the most extreme dissolution of royal authority in history was inaugurated when Archduke Ferdinand—not even the Austrian emperor yet—was shot in Sarajevo. That was the beginning of a long, long downhill run for royals all over Europe.

Now I’ll cut to the chase with the thoughts that started this musing. About ten years ago, a very old newspaper crossed my path and I bought it. It was a special edition of the Times of London, Special Coronation Edition, May 1937. That ancient, yellowed, tattered tabloid opened up a world of wonder for this American guy who had visited, a time or two, London and Buckingham Palace (from a distance) and Canterbury Cathedral. As time rolled by for this Rowland, and my songs of Rowland had been sung, I had, a few years back, gotten into writing novels. I was able, by the time the third one, Smoke, wafted out the keyboard to publish it, by the grace of God and Amazon KDP. Now today, I was pondering some of this old history stuff because I happened to view a YouTube about the royal family. It was a fascinating vid to watch, but what i found most interesting about it was that Queen Elizabeth had, in her will, willed her father’s royal sword to Prince Harry. Her will turned out to be an dispensary expression of her vision—her understanding—that the role of royals in this 21st-century world ain’t what it used to be, because, as brother Bob had sung it, “the times they are a-changin’. And I think she comprehended that the place of her legacy—primarily her family—in this world, would from this time hence be. . . well . . . who knows. I mean, she gave Harry her father’s sword. What does that tell you?

I’ll conclude with some royal wisdom from a fab four group from Liverpool: John sang: “Come Together.” Ringo sang: “I get by with a little help from me friends.” As Paul sang: “Her Majesty’s a pretty nice girl, but she doesn’t have a lot to say.” And George sang, “While my guitar gently weeps. . .” I am sure many, many Brits were weeping when her Majesty passed away. Now her last will and testament is a vectored message to her legacy family: Stay together, work together. Every member has a role to perform. As for Harry, with his new sword, whom I like because he married an American. . . On Guard, Prince! And yes, Virginia, there may yet still be a place for royals in the world. Someone needs to demonstrate the importance of dignity in this life that we live every day in a very puzzling world. Smoke