Explainer

Culture

Royalty

27 April 2023

4 min read

How faith helped the monarchy flex

Understanding how the British monarchy has evolved, means understanding its foundation in faith. Ian Bradley explains.

Ian Bradley

Ian Bradley is Emeritus Professor of Cultural and Spiritual History at the University of St Andrews.

an etching shows William and Mary is a classical scene, priests stand to their right while dogs chew bones at their feet.

A broadsheet illustration celebrates William and Mary, and the Glorious Revolution of 1688.

Lambeth Palace Library.

Christian monarchy has played a central part in the history of the British Isles, promoting the rule of order, justice and mercy in conformity with the values of the kingdom of God and cementing a close alliance between the institutions of crown and church.

Both these aspects are well illustrated in the life and deeds of the first English king to convert to Christianity. Aethelbert, who ruled Kent from 587 to 616, seems to have come to faith through a combination of the influence of his wife, Bertha, the daughter of a Frankish Christian king, and the preaching of St Augustine, who arrived in Thanet in 597, having been sent from Rome by Pope Gregory. According to one account, 10,000 of Aethelbert’s subjects followed him in converting and underwent a mass baptism. Among his first actions as a Christian king were to issue the first set of laws in the English language and to grant land to Augustine on which to build an Abbey, which later became Canterbury Cathedral.

Reign responsibly

Exemplified by such figures as Arthur and Alfred, Christian kingship brought new titles as well as new responsibilities for Britain’s rulers. The first to be appropriated was that of ruling through the grace of God, or Deo Gratia, the idea that is still expressed on every coin of the realm through the abbreviation DG. The late eighth-century Anglo-Saxon king Offa described himself as ‘by the divine controlling grace king of the Mercians’. From the mid-tenth century, several English kings also began styling themselves Christ’s Vicar or deputy. Edgar, Alfred’s great grandson who ruled from 957 to 975, so described himself when founding a new monastery at Winchester in 966. Some years later Ethelred II stated that ‘the king must be regarded not only as the head of the church but also as a vicar of Christ among Christian folk’.

Cult kings

The Middle Ages saw the flowering of the cult of Christian monarchy as both splendid and servant-like, pious and chivalrous, full of knightly virtue, gung-ho triumphalism and miraculous powers, as exemplified in the widespread belief that the king’s touch could cure those suffering from scrofula. While Medieval monarchs cultivated magnificent splendour, they also espoused the theme of the servant-king and acknowledged their utter dependence on God’s grace. Both these elements were reflected in the civic triumphs staged around Epiphany or Advent for the entrance of monarchs into the cities of their realms with the king being portrayed as the type of Christ and the queen as the bearer of heavenly glory. Deliberately modelled on Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, they served as a reminder of the journey to be undertaken by all souls, including royal ones, towards death and the throne of heaven.

Moderate monarchy

The crown played a crucial part in the English Reformation which was initiated by Henry VIII with the help of his loyal lieutenant Thomas Cranmer. Together they created what was effectively a nationalised state church of a moderately Protestant hue with the monarch at its head, bishops and a conservative liturgy in English. Subsequent sovereigns made their influence felt on the emerging Church of England, with Edward VI steering it in a more Protestant direction and playing a key role in the preparation of the first English Prayer Book of 1549, and Elizabeth steadying it to produce the Anglican via media which has remained one of its distinguishing characteristics to this day.

The monarch's headship of the Church of England was a key part of the Reformation settlement. It was established in the 1534 Supremacy Act which declared King Henry VIII 'the only supreme head in earth of the Church of England' with full authority to intervene in its affairs. Elizabeth I modified the monarch’s title from ‘Supreme Head’ to 'Supreme Governor', which it has remained ever since. Alongside it goes the title of ‘Defender of the Faith’, represented on coins as F.D., originally given to Henry VIII by the Pope in 1521 for his defence of the traditional sacraments of the Catholic Church against the novel teaching of Martin Luther. Although revoked after the Reformation, it has continued to be used by and about all monarchs since, although its meaning has never been precisely defined.

Media monarchy

Stuart monarchs tended to push Christian monarchy in a more absolutist direction, being enamoured of the doctrine of the Divine Right of Kings, although they also did much to forward Christianity in their realms. James VI of Scotland and I of England made a particularly valuable contribution in his patronage of the version of the Bible which still bears his name and is also known as the Authorised Version. He was adamant that it should not be a narrow reflection of a single theological position but rather an irenicon, or instrument of peace, breadth and moderation in the new United Kingdom over which he reigned.

Modified monarchy

The so-called Glorious Revolution of 1688-9, when James II was deposed because of his Catholicism and perceived absolutism and William of Orange invited by Parliament to occupy the vacant throne, effectively signalled the triumph of a covenant theory of monarchy over that of divine right. The constitutional settlement that followed it rested on a concept of limited monarchy and was based on an essentially secular concept of social and civil contract. However, neither the Reformation notion of the godly prince ruling the godly commonwealth nor the close connections between Crown and Church were swept away. Indeed, they were strengthened, with the role of the United Kingdom monarch as protector of Protestantism being expressed in the accession and coronation oaths still taken today.

Modern monarchy

Christian monarchy developed in nineteenth and twentieth century Britain to focus much more on philanthropy, civic duty and spiritual leadership demonstrated through attendance at religious services and public exhortation. The close relationship between the crown and the churches, and especially the Church of England, has remained strong while being extended in recent decades to other faith groups as the monarch has increasingly taken on the role of ‘Defender of Faith’. Television has made the monarch’s Christmas Day broadcast a significant national moment of spiritual reflection.

Article

Culture

Easter

Sport

16 April 2025

4 min read

Rory McIlroy’s pilgrim’s progress

The golfer’s relief at finally laying his burden down.

Graham Tomlin

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

A golf clutches his face after winning a competition

McIlroy's moment at the Masters.

Simon Bruty/Augusta National.

It's Sunday evening. Along with most golf fans, I'm still up around 1 am, gripped by the drama unfolding on the famous course at Augusta, Georgia. Despite being one of the world’s best golfers, for the past eleven years, Rory McIlroy has been carrying around three big burdens. One, he has never won the Masters, one of golf’s iconic competitions. Two, he last won a ‘major’ eleven years ago and inexplicably has kept missing out on winning golf’s biggest tournaments. Three, there is the ‘career grand slam’ – winning all four ‘majors’ (of which the Masters is one) – something only five golfers in the history of the game have done before, none of them European. Rory has won three of them, but this one – The Masters - has always eluded him.

After four agonising days, with his fortunes switching this way and that like a drunk driver careering down a road, Rory stands over a four-foot putt on the final play-off hole, one that even average amateur golfers like me would expect to make. Heart pounding, he nudges the ball forward. As it rolls into the white-ringed hole, his knees crumple, shoulders shake, as tears of relief and joy pour down his face. You can almost see all three burdens roll away in that moment. As he put in in a post-round interview: “This is a massive weight that's been lifted off my back.”

As a self-confessed fan of Rory, who seems genuinely humble and likeable, with a golf swing as smooth as butter, I punch the air, probably like most golf fans around the world. Watching the post-round interviews, you can sense his elation and liberation. As Scottie Scheffler, last year’s winner, clothes him in the coveted green jacket, awarded to all winners of the tournament, Rory cannot stop grinning, wandering around the Champions’ Locker Room, which he has had no right to enter until this point, like a kid in a sweet shop.

Now I’m sure the golf committee at Augusta National never thought for a moment they were drawing on rich religious imagery for their award ceremony and the emotions generated in winning their tournament, but Rory’s relief made me look up a moment in John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress. The parallels in this old tale of Puritan faith were even more striking than I expected.

In Bunyan’s dream-story, the main character, Christian, having been through years of tests, trials, ups and downs, reaches the climax of the tale as he reaches Calvary, the place where the cross of Jesus Christ stood:

Just as Christian came up to the cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble; and so continued to do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more.

Then there was the tearful joy and relief:

Then was Christian glad and lightsome. He looked therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were in his head sent the waters down his cheeks.

There was even the celestial equivalent of the green jacket. Three angels appear, and one of them:

…stripped him of his rags, and clothed him with a change of raiment. And unto him he said, Behold, I have caused thine iniquity to pass from thee, and I will clothe thee with change of raiment.

Burdens rolled away, tears of joy, dressed in new clothing. It’s all there.

Yet this comparison tells of a difference.

Bunyan’s relief was about forgiveness. Rory McIlroy’s came from winning a game of golf. His Twitter / X self-designation delightfully used to read: “I hit a little white ball around a field sometimes.” (It now reads ‘Grand Slam Winner’ - not so good in my humble opinion).

The lessons drawn were all about persevering, persistence, getting there in the end. Looking across at his young daughter Poppy, Rory said:

‘Never, ever give up on your dreams. Keep coming back, keep working hard, and if you put your mind to it, you can do anything.’

Yet of course there was nothing inevitable about his victory. It could so easily have gone the other way. His putt might have slid past the hole, Justin Rose, his play-off opponent might have sunk his, and Rory might never have won the Masters, never won the Grand Slam. That is the nature of sport. However strong your dreams, however good your skills, winning is never guaranteed. Not everyone’s dreams come true. It's simply not true that “if you put your mind to it, you can do anything.” Ask Justin Rose.

Bunyan’s relief is something completely different. It's not the relief of having achieved something. It's the relief of receiving something - a totally undeserved gift - more like a prisoner receiving news of an unexpected release, or someone owing huge debts receiving a windfall which enables her not only to pay off the debts but to live comfortably in the future.

The relief of the winner who finally achieves their dream is wonderful to watch. But for those whose dreams don't get fulfilled, for the likes of Justin Rose, who at age 44 seems destined never to win it, that kind of joy remains tantalisingly out of reach.

Christian’s tears of happiness are not the tears of the winner but of the loser. They are for those whose dreams never come true as well as those whose do. They are for those who fall short yet are given the gift of forgiveness, peace and hope. They are - potentially at least - for all of us, winners or losers.

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