A week of sadness, celebration and continuity
The sidra of Ki Tavo contains the following verse, which in many ways encapsulates the life of Queen Elizabeth II.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה בְּבֹאֶךָ וּבָרוּךְ אַתָּה בְּצֵאתֶךָ
Blessed are you when you arrive and blessed are you when you depart. (Deuteronomy 28:6)
The literal translation of these words might refer to any person entering and leaving somewhere, but the rabbis were not convinced of this simple meaning, so Rashi, quoting the Talmud (Bava Metziah 107a) makes the following observation:
שתהא יציאתך מן העולם בלא חטא כביאתך לעולם
May your departure from the world be as free of sin as was your entry into the world.
Rabbi David Freedman
Clearly, the rabbis related this verse to birth and death and it is with that understanding that I relate it to Queen Elizabeth who passed away last week and will be buried with great honour on Monday.
Elizabeth was born the daughter of a prince and enjoyed an idyllic childhood. However, due to circumstances entirely beyond her control, she was thrust into the limelight when her uncle abdicated and her father became King George VI in December 1936. In 1952 when other young women of comparable age were settling into married life and beginning to look after their young children, she was suddenly propelled into the highest rank in the land and expected to take on all the responsibilities of sovereignty – and remain in that position until the day she died.
Her coronation in 1953 was a splendid affair. It was televised, and although I was only three years old, I was given a Coronation Cap, a Coronation mug and a Coronation Crown. My parents bought a 10-inch Murphy television in its own walnut cabinet – so they could watch the proceedings. Apparently half the street came into our home that day to watch the service. It was the first, and until now, the only coronation televised – and all, of course, in black and white. Only a handful of homes owned a television – so by all accounts, we became celebrities in the neighbourhood.
During the service, Elizabeth took an oath, was anointed with holy oil, was invested with robes and regalia, and was crowned queen of the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Pakistan, and Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). She was blessed by the clergy and her subjects, from near and far, pledged loyalty and allegiance to the throne.
The Coronation Oath was administered by the Archbishop of Canterbury. In the lengthy oath, she swore to govern each of her countries according to their respective laws and customs, to mete out law and justice with mercy, to uphold Protestantism in the United Kingdom and protect the Church of England and preserve its bishops and clergy.
She proceeded to the altar where she stated, “The things which I have here promised, I will perform, and keep, so help me God.” She then kissed the Bible before affixing her signature to the oath as the Bible was returned to the dean of Westminster.
From him the moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, James Pitt-Watson, took the Bible and presented it to Elizabeth again, saying, “Our gracious Queen: to keep your Majesty ever mindful of the law and the Gospel of God as the Rule for the whole life and government of Christian Princes, we present you with this Book, the most valuable thing that this world affords. Here is Wisdom; this is the royal Law; these are the lively Oracles of God.”
I find it particularly striking that she was handed the Bible in this way during the service, since the book of Deuteronomy outlines that kings and queens of Israel were to carry with them at all times a copy of the law.
וְהָיָ֣ה כְשִׁבְתּ֔וֹ עַ֖ל כִּסֵּ֣א מַמְלַכְתּ֑וֹ וְכָ֨תַב ל֜וֹ אֶת־מִשְׁנֵ֨ה הַתּוֹרָ֤ה הַזֹּאת֙ עַל־סֵ֔פֶר מִלִּפְנֵ֖י הַכֹּֽהֲנִ֥ים הַֽלְוִיִּֽם: וְהָֽיְתָ֣ה עִמּ֔וֹ וְקָ֥רָא ב֖וֹ כָּל־יְמֵ֣י חַיָּ֑יו לְמַ֣עַן יִלְמַ֗ד לְיִרְאָה֙ אֶת־ה’ אֱלֹקָיו לִ֠שְׁמֹ֠ר אֶת־כָּל־דִּבְרֵ֞י הַתּוֹרָ֥ה הַזֹּ֛את וְאֶת־הַֽחֻקִּ֥ים הָאֵ֖לֶּה לַֽעֲשׂתָֽם
When he takes the throne of his kingdom, he is to write for himself on a scroll a copy of this law, taken from that of the Levitical priests. It is to be with him, and he is to read it all the days of his life so that he may learn to revere the Lord his God and follow carefully all the words of this law and these decrees. (Deuteronomy 17: 18-19)
It is fascinating to consider that the words of our Hebrew scriptures, revealed to the Jewish people during the days of Moshe Rabbeinu, continue to influence our political system and the way in which our constitutional monarchy functions. The fact that the Queen, throughout her life, was a devout Christian, was highly significant, and it is comforting to know that the new king, Charles III retains a great respect for religious tradition and we also know how he admired and valued his close friendship with the late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks z”l.
In Rabbi Sacks’ book, The Power of Ideas, Words of Faith and Wisdom, published posthumously in 2021, the Prince of Wales, as he was then, wrote the following in an extraordinary forward to the book:
Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks’ voice was unmistakably one in the great tradition of the greatest teachers among the Jewish people. He and I were exact contemporaries, born in the year of the foundation of the State of Israel and, over many years, I had come to value his wise counsel immensely as a trusted guide, an inspired teacher and a true and steadfast friend. Many have been the occasions since his untimely and sad passing in November 2020 when I have wanted to seek his perspective, knowing he would have offered unfailing wisdom, profound sanity and moral insight which, in a confused and confusing world, are all too rare.
That being the case one can perhaps assume that the new king has read some of Rabbi Sacks’ thoughts on monarchy and if so, will doubtless take them to heart. For example, Rabbi Sacks wrote the following in 1997 as part of a tribute to the late Diana, Princess of Wales:
A king was expected to be a role-model for others: his title, his office, his position, made it all the more important for him to set a high example. And yet, as Jewish history unfolded, almost no king met those standards. Saul, the first king, sinned. So did King David, author of the Psalms. So, according to the Mishnah, did King Solomon, the wisest of men. They were criticised by the prophets. And they appear before us in the pages of Tanakh in all their fallible humanity.
I find that honest and moving.
The Torah is not a book of fairy tale lives. Faced with the choice between myth and reality, the Torah chooses reality. It lets us see us for what we are. It never hides the fact that sometimes we do small or unwise things. But it never hides the fact either that even fallible human beings can reach the heights and do great and noble things. So it was with kings, and so it is today with those who lead public lives. We expect more of them than of anyone else. Yet they are human, all too human. In them we see most clearly the drama of human weakness on the one hand and of high ideals on the other. We identify with them because their lives are so often ours, writ large and with unusual vividness. At their best they can do good on a vast scale and be a source of inspiration to many. And when they slip, we are reminded yet again that אָדָם אֵין צַדִיק בָּאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר יַעֲשֶׂה טוֹב וְלֹא יֶחֱטָה, that there is no one on earth who does only good and never sins, and that great or small we are fallible, and each of us at times needs forgiveness.
These are remarkable words and if the new king can be inspired by them, as well as by the life of his dear mother Queen Elizabeth then we can look forward to a new era with great confidence. The Queen was an exceptional role model, not only for her son, but truly for millions of people around the world demonstrating how to lead with enormous humility and dedication. Although everyone addressed her as Her Majesty and they showed respect for her position – it was obvious from that day in 1953 when she made that solemn oath in Westminster Abbey, that she saw herself as a servant of the people, not their master. What a message for all of us who have leadership positions in the Jewish community, or wider community – to act humbly, and serve the needs of others.
There is a blessing to be said in the presence of a monarch, and in 2012 on a visit to the UK, I was fortunate to be among a small group of people waiting to greet the Queen during a royal tour of the City of London. As she walked past us, I stepped forward and recited the traditional blessing in Hebrew in a loud, clear and proud voice. In English the words mean: Blessed is the Lord who has given some of His glory to human beings. There is no doubt in my mind that in the way Elizabeth lived her life and served her subjects, she had most definitely received some of God’s glory.
May her son, the new king, Charles III, be blessed and inspired to emulate her amazing life. We wish him well and in so doing commend the spirit of Elizabeth II to her Maker. May she find peace in her eternal life and be rewarded on high for her decades of sacrifice and endeavor. To be a good queen – she first needed to be a good person – and that she was to all whom she encountered. We should also remember that as Jews we lived under her sovereignty in peace and safety – and for that we remain grateful to her and those she led.
Yehi Zichra Baruch – May her memory be for a blessing, for it can most certainly be said of her –
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה בְּבֹאֶךָ וּבָרוּךְ אַתָּה בְּצֵאתֶךָ
Blessed was she when she entered the world, and blessed was she when she departed – for throughout her life she fulfilled all the promises that she had made to us and in so doing had lived a life of faith and faithfulness – we will not forget her.
Rabbi David Freeman is the Associate Rabbi of Sydney’s Central Synagogue
