The numbers are not exact. But in our time of assessing the numbers of people watching television for any given program, the estimates of numbers of viewers for any one program are close. According to Nielson Ratings then, it seems that I was one of nearly 30 million people in the United Kingdom and the United States watching as Charles III was crowned King of England in Westminster Abby on May 6th.
One of the central figures in the elaborate coronation ceremony was the lead officiant, Justin Welby, The Archbishop of Canterbury. The impressive head cleric of the Church of England, Welby performed his part – including offering his effective sermon – well.
Watching Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, preside over the first coronation of a British monarch in 70 years, I began thinking of the time I met and had official interaction with the Archbishop of Canterbury holding that office 23 years ago, George Carey.
In May of 2000, the General Conference of The United Methodist Church was meeting at the Convention Center here in Cleveland. Two thousand elected lay and clergy delegates from annual and central conferences from all over the world were gathered in the Cleveland Convention Center for two weeks of legislative policy setting for the now rapidly splintering denomination.
Twenty-three years ago, I was serving as the host committee chairperson for General Conference. I was dealing with, among other things, local venues, the Convention Center facility, and the United Methodist Council of Bishops who preside over the General Conference sessions.
For one of the plenary sessions of General Conference the United Methodist Council of Bishops had extended an invitation to George Carey, Archbishop of Canterbury of The Church of England, to address the General Conference of The United Methodist Church.
Archbishop Carey had accepted the invitation!
The head of world-wide Anglicans had agreed to come and talk with the spiritual descendants of 18th century break-away American Methodists in an act of outreach and reconciliation. It would be a great moment of historic significance and sign, no matter how late, of reconciliation.
Bishop Carey was arriving at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport and coming directly to the convention center. He would not have any time to stop in his arranged downtown hotel room ahead of his address to General Conference. So, his suitcase would be with him.
When Archbishop Carey arrived at Cleveland’s Convention Center along with his suitcase, I had arranged for a “motorcade” of golf carts carrying the officers of the Council of Bishops to meet Carey at the dignitary’s entrance to the Convention Center. From there Archbishop Carey would get in the lead golf cart (driven by me!) and carrying the then President of the Council of United Methodist Bishops whose name I have blocked from my memory.
Our motorcade of golf carts – after moving through the behind-the-scenes caverns of the Cleveland Convention Center – finally arrived backstage so that Archbishop Carey could access the on-stage podium to address the plenary session of General Conference which included not only worldwide delegations but also several thousands of visitors.
At that heady, historic moment before going on stage, the Archbishop began to express great concern about being parted from, and thus the security of his suitcase.
Hearing Carey’s concern, the Council of Bishops President assigned me the task of guarding the Archbishop Canterbury’s suitcase while he addressed General Conference.
There I was at an historic moment but suddenly asked to sit alone in a small, backstage room in order to watch over the Archbishop of Canterbury’s suitcase presumably containing his extra episcopal underwear.
At any given moment in our world of events, many of which are dangerous and tragic, no matter our desire to participate in a meaningful way, we can feel pretty inconsequential.
So many times, things that matter are going on out on the stages of life. But for all our desire to be a part of overcoming bad things and participate in making a meaningful difference, we find ourselves backstage and can think ourselves, overlooked, perhaps even abused in our roles seeming of little consequence.
It is in such times that we wonder about the meaning of the lives we lead and the roles we may have played and now play. It is at such times when for all our desire to make a contribution, make a great difference, we think of ourselves only backstage with a suitcase of underwear. In such times, despair can overtake us.
In such times when there is little I can do except lament what is going on without me or cry out in frustration over what is going on that I can do nothing to stop or change things, John Greenleaf Whittier’s thoughts help.
Dear Lord and Father of mankind, forgive our foolish ways!
Re-clothe us in our rightful mind, in purer lives thy service find,
In deeper reverence praise.
If this is our prayer and the focus of our energies – perhaps especially when we think ourselves only watching over underwear – God can re-clothe us in our rightful spiritual mind. Suddenly then – even in a world of people doing senseless things – we can discover all the ways God is making sense of us. We discover opportunities for greater service. We find ever more reason for great praise.
From backstage then, even there, can be heard and voiced shouts of “Amen!”