We need ritual for our collective grief
Going through the motions together can move us toward healing.
At least a quarter of a million people queued up to see Queen Elizabeth’s coffin lying in state in Westminster Hall on September 19. The first person in the line—which stretched for five miles—waited for 50 hours just to pass through the hall and briefly pay her respects to a monarch she never met.
We often criticize people for going through the motions, but in this case, many went to great lengths for the opportunity to do so. Some mourned the queen as a person, expressing admiration for her lifetime commitment to an office greater than herself. Some mourned the tandem decline of the monarchy and of Britain as a global empire. Some mourned the horrors that the empire wrought on their own families and cultures around the world. Some mourned their own private griefs. Some simply wanted to be a part of history.
The atmosphere in the queue was jovial, even celebratory. But when people entered the hall, the mood became “very still and very quiet,” 15-year-old Angelica Read told the Washington Post. With “the candles and lights and guards . . . it was completely timeless and special.” Those who waited for days to enter that timeless space created by ritual may have benefited significantly from their participation.
