ORDER OF SERVICE

The funeral service started around 12:30 and was led by the Reverend Welmet Hudig-Semeijns de Vries van Doesburgh. The elder on duty was Mr L. Boersma. The music was provided by the Bach Orchestra of The Hague, the Bach Choir of The Hague, the Resurrection Singers and organist Bas de Vroome. The conductor was Jos Vermunt.

Organ voluntary and orchestra
Gymnopédies 1 and 2, by Erik Satie, arranged by Claude Debussy in 1898
Gymnopédie 3, by Erik Satie, arranged by Roland Manuel in 1965

the coffin is carried into the church

Hymn
Ŕ toi la Gloire

Candle ceremony with the grandchildren

The Prince of Orange lit a candle.
Prince Johan Friso: "The Lord said 'Let there be light'. And there was light" (Genesis 1:3)
Prince Jaime de Bourbon de Parme lit a candle.
Princess Carolina de Bourbon de Parme: "For with thee is the fountain of life. In thy light shall we see light" (Psalm 36: 9/10)
Prince Floris van Oranje-Nassau, Van Vollenhoven lit a candle.
Prince Pieter-Christiaan van Oranje-Nassau, Van Vollenhoven (?): Send out Thy light and Thy truth. Let them lead me" (Psalm 43:3)
Nicolás Guillermo lit a candle.
Juliana Guillermo: "Jesus said: 'I am the light of the world. He that followeth me shall have the light of life.' (John 8:12).

Call to worship

We dedicate this service to God, the fountain of life, from Whom, through Whom and by Whom all things are, and from Whom, through Whom and by Whom Princess Juliana lived and died. Grace be with you and the peace of God our Father, through Jesus Christ. Amen.

We are gathered here today to bid farewell to Her Royal Highness Princess Juliana. Our thoughts are especially with those who have lost a wife, a mother, a grandmother and a great-grandmother. Though one who was so dear to us has departed from our midst, we are above all filled with gratitude that hers was such a long and productive life.

Princess Juliana herself was convinced that death was not a descent into oblivion or darkness, but a transition into Light and the security of God’s Love. That is why she chose white as the colour for this day, and why we sang Ŕ Toi la Gloire (Thine be the Glory), as our first hymn. It was her wish to set the tone of her farewell with this joyful hymn of resurrection, and you will recognise this uplifting note in the other music she chose.

One of her greatest wishes was that her daughter Christina would sing and it is wonderful that she was prepared to do so at such an emotional time. The hymn she chose was “It’s a gift to be simple.”

Vocal Solo by Princess Christina of the Netherlands, with orchestra

The Gift to be Simple

'tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down where we ought to be;
and when we find ourselves in the place just right,
't will be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained,
to bow and bend we shan't be ashamed,
to turn, turn, will be our delight
till by turning we come round right.

'tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down where we ought to be;
and when we find ourselves in the place just right,
't will be in the valley of love and delight.

Opening prayer

O Lord, let there be silence within us. Such silence that we can hear the intake of our own breath, and feel the beating of our hearts.

Let us for a moment detach ourselves from this imposing place, the people around us and all these unfamiliar impressions and concentrate on the person who really matters today. Help us to be with Princess Juliana in our hearts: to remember who she was and what she meant to each of us. (Let us dwell upon her qualities, her personality, her individuality, the special person that she was.) Help us to think of her here and now with respect and with the heartfelt attention she deserves, she who devoted her life to her country and her people. She who endeavoured, in all sincerity, to complete her task and to serve You. You who are the fountain of all love, let love flow into our hearts, so that we become a circle, surrounding her with warmth and care. Amen.

Choir and orcestra
Kyrie Eleison from Mass in D major by Antonin Dvorak

Lesson
John 14:1,2,27,28.

Choir and congregation
Hymn 293: Whatever the future may bring, the Lord will guide me (Wat de toekomst brengen moge mij geleidt des Heren hand); verses 1, 2 and 4

Tribute

Most people do not want to be ordinary. They want to be considered special. But for Princess Juliana, it was the other way round. Everyone saw her as special, but she wanted to be ordinary. One of her childhood memories is a good illustration of this.

As a little girl, she attended school at Huis ten Bosch Palace, with three other little girls who formed a special class with her. Every morning she was taken there, all alone in her carriage, except for a lady-in-waiting. The other girls arrived together. Little Juliana would watch them coming, chattering and giggling. And that’s how they left at the end of the school day. The Princess alone, the other girls together. But one day, the lady-in-waiting was standing talking to one of the mothers, not paying attention to her charge. The girls beckoned to Juliana to come over and sit with them in their carriage. So Juliana got out of hers, and climbed in with them. It was wonderful, she said. The driver made a quick circle in front of the palace, and they all laughed and told jokes. She was having so much fun. But as soon as the lady-in-waiting realised what was happening, the Princess was taken out of the carriage. Her mother would never allow such a thing! When Princess Juliana told this story 80 years later, she was still angry. “I knew that my mother would not have minded. She liked me to enjoy myself.”

We can of course sympathise with the lady-in-waiting, who must have had quite a fright. It was up to her to protect and watch over the precious child. But to the little princess, all this meant was that she could never play with the other children. And she carried this memory with her for the rest of her long life.

Princess Juliana was special - an only child and heir to the throne. And that brought with it a degree of loneliness. Of course, it was a source of sadness to her, as it is to anyone who is alone. But from that loneliness, she developed her own strengths: her own dignity, her own vision and her own authenticity which enabled her to make good friends later in her life.

For Juliana, being Queen was an onerous, but sacred task, which she felt it was her duty to fulfil; to obey, as we will shortly sing. No matter how much her daughters meant to her, her task made it impossible to be an ordinary mother and that was not easy for her or her family.

Princess Juliana gave herself completely to her task. She was always well prepared and her questions were very much to the point. Which is how she formed her own opinion. But at the same time, she found it difficult to understand that others saw things differently. And once she had made up her mind, it was difficult to persuade her to change it.

Behind her longing to be ordinary was true simplicity: the gift to be simple, as her daughter Christina sang. She knew how to truly enjoy life’s simple pleasures: a picnic with the children, or looking for chestnuts to roast. Shopping somewhere abroad, where no one recognised her. Playing games, like Scrabble. That was something she really enjoyed, especially when she was older and had more time, and especially if she won. But her real passion was acting. You can well imagine how someone who always had to play a role loved playing one she could choose for herself - and to which she could bring all the humour she possessed in abundance.

Sometimes perhaps she went a little too far in her search for simplicity, certainly by today’s standards: for instance when she felt that salmon canapés were too fancy to be served at her birthday party.

Being ordinary meant that Princess Juliana had a strong aversion to court etiquette and imposed formality. But neither did she like unsought-after informality and pushiness. She wrote “I was inclined to see the good in people. But I was not so stupid that I did not often see through them.”

What made Princess Juliana so special was her warm heart. The older generation do not remember her as the queen in the state portraits they saw in public buildings. The image that left the deepest impression on them was the one of her standing in the mud in her rubber boots in Zeeland during the 1953 floods, with wind-swept hair and fluttering headscarf. The expression on her face was one of deepest sympathy and powerlessness. At that moment, she was perhaps at her most royal, in the truest sense of the word: genuinely at one with her people in their hour of need and in their grief.

Princess Juliana was a deeply religious woman, with spiritual beliefs all her own. Her faith was not inspired by church dogma or law. She was tolerant of other religions as a matter of course. Her mother gave her a solid, Christian upbringing, and her father brought her into contact with the mystical wisdom of the East. She had an open mind and spoke with great enthusiasm of her meeting with the Jewish philosopher, Martin Buber. But she was also interested in Islamic Sufism. Her daughters introduced her to modern spiritual movements, and so she continued to develop. She was a regular churchgoer, certainly as she grew older, but preferred attending different churches. When she received communion at her grandson’s ecumenical wedding service, it was not the whim of an old lady. For her, this was communion in the true sense. Communion between people of different denominations was her deepest wish. She was convinced that many roads led to the one God. Or, as Jesus poetically said: “In my Father’s house are many mansions”.

She had her own articles of faith and made no secret of them. When I asked her how she wanted her service of farewell to be, she told me: “I want it to be about peace. Peace between individuals, between races and between nations. And about not being afraid of death.”

Peace. It grieved Princess Juliana profoundly to have to leave her country when war broke out. From Canada, she lived through events with her people. After the war, working wherever she could for peace was the most important task to her. That was frequently the subject of her Christmas message. “No matter who you are, it is the greatest conceivable privilege to be able to work for peace on earth and for people’s wellbeing. All of us. We all share the same responsibility.”

She found the arms race during the Cold War disturbing. And she also appreciated that world peace could be achieved only by bridging the gap between rich and poor countries and by respecting human rights.

Ultimately, her work for world peace would turn into her greatest struggle, a struggle for which she had the courage. “Peace is not a safe shelter for the idle. Peace is the noblest struggle of all.”

In the passage from the Bible we have just read, Jesus said: “Peace is my parting gift to you, my own peace, such as the world cannot give you”. It is important to know that in Jesus’ day, the word “peace” had different meanings.

First, it meant the absence of war. And Jesus preferred to die himself than to allow others to take up arms because of him.

Peace also meant spiritual health, wholeness and wellness. The Greek goddess of peace Eirene - we say Irene - was depicted with the horn of plenty in her hand. She brought prosperity, health and happiness. When a Jew says shalom, or an Arab salaam, they are literally saying peace be with you but also wishing you all the good in life: a good harvest, friendship, all the joy life can bring.

True peace in the sense of prosperity for all can only be achieved if there is also social justice: less of a gulf between rich and poor countries, a sound legal system and love of your neighbour.

It is clear that the ideal of peace, prosperity and justice, did not exist in Jesus’ day. His country was occupied and exploited; poverty and injustice held sway. That is why many people projected the idea of peace into a distant, ideal future, when the Messiah would come. Or to another world: to heaven, where you can rest in peace. But if you read the passage properly, and in context, it is unlikely that Jesus was wishing his disciples a distant future of bliss, or heavenly peace. “Peace is my parting gift to you,” are Jesus’ words at his last meeting with His disciples. He warns them that he will be betrayed, taken prisoner and put to death. They are filled with fear and confusion. And precisely at this moment Jesus says, “Peace is my parting gift to you.” What could he have meant?

It seems as if Jesus has reconciled himself to the fact that he must take his leave. He has almost completed his life’s mission, and he will depart this life at one with God, who gives meaning to his existence. “It is finished”. Those are His last words according to the gospel of John. A just world peace has not yet been achieved, but what Jesus gives his disciples is inner peace, the peace of being rooted in God, of fighting for a good cause and giving your life for it. That gives them the strength to carry on where he left off. Even though Jesus dies, His peace keeps on working. It has lasting, eternal significance.

Working for peace is in itself enough to give peace. But you must have the courage to fight and at the same time accept that some things are beyond your power. And despite disappointments, you must never lose your courage. This brings to mind the well-known prayer: “Lord, give me the courage to change the things that can be changed. Give me the serenity to accept what cannot be changed. And give me the wisdom to know the difference.”

Peace is also believing that every action you take for the good cause has eternal value. Princess Juliana understood this. In two of her Christmas messages she said, “If people work towards something good, something good will always come out of it, even though the result is sometimes different than expected.” This echoes the optimistic faith that gave her the strength to accept setbacks.

Let us return to the Bible passage containing the second of Princess Juliana’s themes. Jesus comforts his despairing disciples with the words “Do not be afraid.” His peace will carry them through the many trials ahead, including death, the ultimate trial. That they too will find a home with God, that they will return to their Father, from Whom, through Whom and by Whom all things are.

We have just sung “Je ne crains rien” (I fear nothing). “People have nothing to fear,” Princess Juliana often said. “A new life, a different life, follows after death.” She was convinced of that. There is no end at the end, only an eternal new beginning.

Princess Juliana’s life was not easy. She had to bear a great deal alone. She wrote: “Much of the sorrow in my life is unknown to others and so it should be. Other people often did not understand me.” It was a difficult life, but it was full, intense and valuable. And she died in peace. Close to her husband, whom she so loved. And surrounded by her children and grandchildren, in whom she found the greatest joy.

May her powerful, optimistic faith be an example to us all. And may this queen, who was so beloved of her people and so valued by them, rest in peace. Amen.

Choir a cappella by the Resurrection Singers
Wi Tata (the Lord’s Prayer in Surinamese) by John Nelom.

Introduction to the Blessing

Before we entrust Juliana’s body to the safety of the earth and the shelter of this church, we will take our leave of her.

Whenever we take our leave of someone, we wish them a safe journey, or bid them farewell. In church, we talk about the blessing, ‘bene dicere’ in Latin, which literally means wishing someone well. I shall pronounce the blessing using the formal, biblical terms. I should like to ask you to join me by singing the responses. But above all, I should like to ask you to formulate your own blessing in your heart, to be consciously aware of what you are wishing her. The ancient, biblical words will thus be filled with the power of your intentions, and borne on the love of her family and her friends.

Please rise.

The body of Princess Juliana we entrust to the safety of the earth. Her soul we entrust to God, who also has given it.

Blessing

The Lord bless you and keep you;
The Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you.
The Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.

Hymn
Hymn 444: "Lord,have mercy upon her" (Heer ontferm U over haar), verse 3

Princess Juliana is laid to rest in the royal vault

Prince Bernhard, Queen Beatrix, Princess Irene, Princess Margriet, Pieter van Vollenhoven and Princess Christina follow the coffin into the vault.

Orchestra
Morning from the Peer Gynt suite by Edvard Grieg
Choir and Orchestra
Angel of Hope, by Erik Berglund, arranged by Bob Zimmerman

Choir
Der Winter ist Vergangen (The winter has passed)

Prayers, followed by silent prayer

Lord, we thank you that we can gather here in peace. Give us the strength, each in their own way, to take your peace with us into this world, which suffers so much under the yoke of war, poverty and injustice. Lord, we thank you for giving us the special person who was Juliana. Now that she has gone from us, our thoughts are with her husband, Prince Bernhard, her daughters Beatrix, Irene, Margriet and Christina, her son-in-law Pieter and the rest of the large family that you granted her. Comfort all who sincerely grieve for her. We pray in silence for all those who suffer the pain of loss. We name them in the silence of our hearts.

(silent prayer)

And everything we wish to say to you, we say in the prayer that Jesus taught us:

The Lord's Prayer

Final Hymn
Hymn 411: Wilhelmus; verse 15

Valediction and blessing

Go forth in peace
Each with your own mission in life
Conscious of the world and its needs
Borne by God’s blessing.

May the Eternal one go before you to guide your way
.. behind you to strengthen you
.. beside you as a close friend
..around you as a protective cloak
.. within you as love and peace.

Amen

(From a Celtic blessing)

Choir and orchestra
Dona nobis pacem

Organ voluntary
Wie groß ist des Allmächt’gen Güte, chorale variations by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy