I live in the UK and there is enormous excitement here, with the extra-long bank holiday weekend in honour of Queen Elizabeth’s platinum jubilee. My mum in Dublin tells me there’s a fair bit of chat about it in Ireland too. Our parish Pentecost celebration service is to be combined with a jubilee thanksgiving. Putting together our Pentecost service feels natural but as an Irish person I lack all instincts around celebrating the monarchy. This is a valid case of imposter syndrome, so I’ve been delegating those parts to others who can inhabit them naturally!
My husband – an Englishman with republican tendencies – sometimes wonders why his Irish wife seems to be more enthusiastic about the British royal family than he is. Actually, I am not that interested, although I certainly do love a good royal wedding.
However, Queen Elizabeth herself has captured the hearts of many Irish people since her historic and ground-breaking visit to the Republic in 2011 at the invitation of President Mary McAleese.
With her quiet and dignified honouring of the Republic in her words, actions, and respectful silences, a new space for reconciliation was opened that paved the way to her meeting with Martin McGuinness in Belfast the following year – previously utterly unimaginable.
Opportunity knocks for Brian Gleeson as Munster face formidable Castres
Tiny bowls are the secret to happiness. There’s little in life they don’t improve
Shed Distillery founder Pat Rigney: ‘We’re very focused on a premium position but also on giving value for money to consumers’
John FitzGerald: The power market should reflect that renewable energy is cheaper
The concept of jubilee comes from the Hebrew Scriptures, and it is a beautiful glimpse into the heart of God. Rather than simply the marking of an anniversary, the notion of jubilee was introduced to the Israelite people as they were being forged into a new nation, set apart to be a blessing to the whole world. The psalmist speaks of the laws given by God to his people as “more precious than gold, and sweeter than honey”. Their God cared not only how they treated him but how they treated each other, and how they treated the earth. This in itself was a ground-breaking concept.
Every seven days, God instituted a Sabbath, a day of absolute rest for everyone. Every seven years, God commanded a Sabbath year, where crops were neither planted nor harvested, where both the land and the people took a break from production and rested.
Then, after every seventh Sabbatical year, the 50th year was designated a year of jubilee. Slaves were set free, prisoners released, land returned to the original owners, debts cancelled. Every family was given a clean slate, completely restored. With this rhythm of fallow and fruitfulness, the earth renewed itself and recovered from its labours. What kind of bliss would this be?
As far as I can find out it is not thought that the ancient Israelites ever actually put the year of jubilee into practice. It would indeed be a tall order for any nation, cutting across natural self-interest and profoundly affecting the way the community organised itself during intervening years. Jubilee would subvert the status quo, it would stop the richer getting richer and the poor getting poorer. Centuries later, these restorative dynamics are reflected in Hannah’s song, and then Mary’s song, the Magnificat.
The prophet Isaiah announced that the Messiah, when he came, would usher in the long-awaited year of jubilee, “the year of the Lord’s favour”. And indeed Jesus read from the scroll of Isaiah at the synagogue: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free”. All eyes upon him, he sat down, and said: “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Those present understood what he was proclaiming about himself: that he was the Messiah, embodying the long-foretold manifesto of the spirit of jubilee.
Like the Jewish people, we, as Christians, are called to be a blessing to the whole world. We fail – left, right and centre – yet we recognise in Jesus our Jubilee, the loving, restorative heart of God. Our debts are paid, once, for all. We are all invited, together, to this jubilee celebration.