All Hail the Queen

reproduced with the Author's permission.

By C.E. Davys

“Some things in this world are too precious, too holy to be spoken of lightly. Similarly, some things are too dark and too evil to be spoken of without a great deal of caution, but fortunately the two are in stark oppositions, and shall never touch—save when the Holy crushes the Evil beyond recognition—which even then is not the same thing.”

It is never a good thing to mistake realism for despair. All too often they appear very similar, which leaves a slight problem. Despair*, of course, is a sin, and therefore is the less desirable of the two. Realism has a tendency to be more similar to despair than Secular Despair, and neither is particularly pleasant anyway. Really, more or less people in their great mass have a habit of kindly ignoring the danger until the dragon is sitting at their doorstep. So instead of noticing the great looming dark thing in the far distance, they wait until its ugly face is staring into their eyes to do anything.

Still, there is a tendency to overlook where our hope lies; where it ought ever lie and where it should never have been removed from in the first place. But still as time progresses there is a curious decline in noticing, at all, the great Royalty of the Church.

Indeed in our greatest sorrow there is one who has suffered more than we; and nothing we can ever feel will express the pain that she felt, for none have had the burden of watching as her Son hangs upon the Cross and dies.
In her years on earth—which did not number a great deal—she was thought of as an ordinary girl, in her youth, by outsiders. How many of them would know that the Queen of Heaven was in their midst? How many could recognize the imprint of the Heavenly upon her?
But in the later years, the Apostles saw her as who she was—as the Queen of Heaven and Earth, the Hyperagia Theotokos, Panagia Despoina, and as Gabriel so eloquently put it, kecharitomene, in addition to the feeble titles we already hold in our rather watered language.

This was an attitude that, one would hope, would remain—after all, one does not march up to Queen Victoria, address her as 'Vicky' and offer her a cigar, as the great Author so wonderfully put it**—but instead there has been as of late a curious decline in attention given to the Queen.
This, I daresay, is to be expected of the Protestants, with a reason, (Luther excepted; even he had respect for the Queen) but for even many Catholics it is utterly inexcusable. It is, truly, a disgrace; who walks up to the Queen of England and ignores her entirely? Where it all began I cannot say—it is, like faeries, a mystery beyond my comprehension—and it is utterly shameful.

Indeed, even the comparison to the Queen of England is not good one. One's mother would be better, but unfortunately a continually degenerating interest in the Family is affecting adversely the talk of mothers and fathers, and instead we are told to call them 'parents' singularly, which will get odd as many people, one would hope, have two and not one. But even that has changed as of late.
But on occasion this general ignorance on the heavenly role of the Great Lady has degenerated into downright disrespect for her, which, of course, we would not tolerate if it were a mortal queen. But somehow her role as the Queen of Heaven has made her susceptible to all kinds of slander and lies.

Indeed, to not know what she truly is and who she is is a great tragedy. For one must understand that she is not merely a Queen, far and distant and cold, but so terribly real that it is almost shameful to think back when one did not know her. Even in Heaven she is flesh and blood, she is a Daughter of Man yet so clearly holy, with such kindness and joy and love radiating from her that it cannot, even in her glorified form, be contained within her. From within her it emerges, radiates and surrounds her and everything she comes near to falls upon their knees, if they have knees to fall upon, and those that cannot still honour her for the great role which she has played in this eternal battle.

For her duty did not end when Jesus Christ was born—rather, it had hardly begun. In these years of turmoil and dismay, who ought we turn to? To whom did Adonias go when he needed a favor with the King?

Ever now she gathers her children unto her Son, working to save them, for though she is the Queen she is the mother of All, as Jesus gave John to her at the Foot of the Cross.
Though shame may paralyze us in her presence, by virtue of being fallen, and as our sin and inadequacy is laid bare, she smiles upon us and extends her hand lovingly, to pull us to our feet so that we may go on though we believe we cannot go another step in this great battle.
The Enemy, in his foul hatred which, like the Lady's virtues, cannot be contained within his form and therefore spreads a rank feeling of terror wherever he treads, hates her beyond all other Men, for she—as he is well aware—said Yes when he said No. His non serviam, which so easily could have led to the ruin of all, to her fiat (by which the world would be saved) stand in such distinct opposition; for truly there is enmity between them.

As she is the example of purest holiness, so he is the example of true evil. Indeed, there are those who would say that God created evil; but Evil is but the absence of God. It is, then, not truly a thing, it is more of a nothing, because it is truly void, where no light and no goodness can survive, for these things are from God and without God they cannot exist.

There is a horrible modern movement of sorts, which is not really modern at all but rather the Enemy's latest trick (what a shame he is not like the pony of one skill), which is called by some Atheism. It seems to me that they were not given enough faerie-tales, it would have profited them greatly. After all, faerie-tales assist a child's mind to go beyond this realm of ours. It is something of an aid, I believe, to later learning of God and of Heaven and Hell and the Angels and the Heavenly Monarchs; Our Lord Jesus, the Christ and the King of all and his Mother, our heavenly Queen to whom we may always go in times of distress.

There is hardly a person on the earth who has not, at the sound of some rustling from the closet, become certain that there is a dragon hiding in it just waiting for the last light to go out and has, upon this certainty, ran to his mum who is preparing to go to bed herself. Then, bravely, dear Mum gets her most potent weapons, her Rosary and Medal and Scapular, and ventures into the closet with her child hiding close by, watching anxiously as Mum goes to defeat the dragon. A few moments pass, and then his mother emerges, triumphant, of course, with a smile on her face. She takes up her child in her arms and states, “Your dragon, little dear, is dead, and he won't trouble you any longer.”

Then, of course, she promptly tucks her little son back into bed and all sleep well that night, for the Mother, and the Queen of the House, has defeated the Dragon that used to lurk in the dark dungeons of the Closet.

And, should the dragon return, dear Mummy will not hesitate to remain in the room, waiting for the Dragon to appear—and in the course of this, usually the child will fall asleep, and then Mum gives a smile and leaves.
For all mothers are, in this respect, a mirror of the Blessed Virgin, who deals with a dragon of slightly larger proportion.

Is there, then, any reason to doubt that this glorious, most beautiful of the daughters of Men is truly the Mother of God, the Theotokos, as it is better put? Is there anything on the earth which is more comforting to one's soul and more gentle and kind than her very presence? Deny not, then, that she is your Queen and your mother, for she watches over you while you sleep, that the Dragon will not snare you from your slumber.

Upon her most gracious self is my entire perception of beauty, small though it is, eternally placed, for she is the Fairest of the Fair, more glorious and beautiful than the Angels themselves, and no Daughter of Man shall ever be witness to the Glory which was given to her, the Theotokos, the Queen of Heaven and Earth, the Blessed Mary Ever Virgin, Star of the Sea and the Lady to whom we beseech for all our requests.
For the Queen of Heaven is Eternal, as Heaven itself is, beyond time, and to the Fairest we beg,
Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God
That we be made Worthy of the Promises of Christ.

*It is likely the author was referring to despair as defined by the Church; as C.E. Davys was a devout Catholic and therefore Despair would have meant, in context, 'giving up hope that even God can salvage the wreck'.

**C.E. Davys was paraphrasing G.K. Chesterton, who said, '...walk up to Queen Victoria, slap her on the back and offer her a cigar'.