Archbishop Justin Welby has done a good job of relating the Queen’s virtues to her Christian faith. This is no easy task. The writers of the New Testament would have been very surprised by the notion that a monarch could be an exemplary Christian. And any sensible Christian leader is mindful that monarchs should be praised with care, lest religion seem cravenly reverent of tradition and worldly grandeur.

In her life, he said in his official statement, ‘we saw what it means to receive the gift of life we have been given by God and – through patient, humble, selfless service – share it as a gift to others.’ This rightly puts the emphasis on her positive outlook – something most of us struggle to have. Indeed Welby himself has struggled with depression, and so his appreciation of her sense of gratitude feels heartfelt.

The emphasis on her happy disposition continues: ‘Her Late Majesty found great joy and fulfilment in the service of her people and her God, “whose service is perfect freedom”. For giving her whole life to us, and allowing her life of service to be an instrument of God’s peace among us, we owe her a debt of gratitude beyond measure.’ The quotation from the Prayer Book is significant. The greatest cultural change in her reign was the explosion of individual freedom. It’s hard to say whether it has made us a happier society. But here is a pure, unambiguous version of freedom, rooted in order.

In two broadcast interviews on Friday, he shifted the emphasis to another theme. When he last met her, in June, he told Radio 4’s Today programme: ‘I came away thinking there is someone who has no fear of death, has hope in the future, knows the rock on which she stands and that gives her strength.’ This effectively paints her as an icon of faith, but faith in a broad sense, that is fully accessible to secular minds. He also gently rebuked the individualism of our age: ‘Her attitude was “it’s not about me, it’s about what I have been called… by God to do”.’ Without labouring the point, and seeming to chide a certain younger royal, this hints that only traditional religion, not trendier versions, is fully critical of selfishness.

On BBC Breakfast he repeated the theme of living life to the full, and having rock-like confidence in God. In the Queen ‘we saw overflowing life that wasn’t just because she was Queen.’ She ‘constantly showed us the meaning of life. She was joyful, she was humorous… Her life was full but she never – even in bad moments – lost hope.’ I like the reference to ‘the meaning of life’, normally associated with pretentious philosophers puzzling over the unfathomable. She was a model of practical virtue, rooted in a positive attitude.

The republican in me wants to point out there are plenty of Christian grannies who could be lauded in similar terms, and such people will have struggled with worldly deprivations unknown to the Queen. But she had struggles and pressures unknown to the rest of us, and in a funny way that exceptionalism makes a monarch a universal figure. Because a monarch does not belong to a particular social type: he or she can represent all of us. Their inner life is more accessible, in the same way Hamlet’s high status makes him an everyman (I don’t suppose many people have compared her to Hamlet). Welby was right to imply that the monarchy has the strange power to put the spotlight on the human soul, to magnify an inner life. He delicately managed to praise her Christian faith in a way that speaks to the secular person.