In a move that has sent shockwaves through the ecclesiastical world and caused at least three bishops to choke on their communion wafers, the Pope has issued a stark warning of a potential schism over controversial ordinations. The Vatican, that hallowed repository of ancient robes and even more ancient grudges, has reportedly been riven by dissent over the admission of married men and women into the priesthood. Meanwhile, back in Blighty, religious leaders have responded with the traditional British remedy: a stiff call for unity, preferably served with a side of tea and a biscuit of reconciliation.
One might have thought that a schism, that favourite pasta dish of the early Church, had gone out of fashion. Not so, according to His Holiness, who has apparently been consulting the entrails of a sacred goat and found them to be quarrelsome. The ordination controversy, a labyrinth of dogma and deference, has pitted traditionalists against reformers in a battle of the cassocks as ferocious as any bar-room brawl, but with more incense and less spitting.
Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, a man whose face appears to have been carved from a block of existential worry, immediately called for calm. ‘We must remain united in our diversity,’ he intoned, in that soothing voice that could pacify a rabid fox. ‘Let us not dwell on our differences, but rather on our shared love of God and the Almighty’s apparent fascination with mid-level managerial disputes.’
Other faith leaders joined the chorus of peace. Rabbi Miriam Berger of Finchley Reform Synagogue offered a particularly stirring metaphor: ‘Schism is like a split in a bagel. It only serves to let the cream cheese of discord ooze out. We must keep the bagel whole.’ A sentiment that was echoed, though somewhat less poetically, by the Muslim Council of Britain, who suggested that everyone ‘just calm down and read a nice surah.’
But the real question remains: what exactly is being ordained? Rumours are flying thicker than thurible smoke. Some speak of a secret Vatican III council where bishops are being replaced by holograms. Others whisper of a plot to ordain penguins in the Antarctic diocese, a move that would surely cause a flap. The truth, as ever, is more mundane but no less divisive: the ordination of women bishops in the Church of England has already happened, but now the Catholic Church is considering letting married men become priests, a move that would have them swapping their vow of celibacy for a vow of trying to get the kids to Sunday school on time.
The British public, for their part, remain largely unmoved. ‘I don’t care if they ordain a flamingo,’ said Bernard from Bognor, a man whose spiritual insights are matched only by his enthusiasm for egg sandwiches. ‘As long as they don’t touch my Sunday rota.’
So, as the Pope wrings his hands and the Archbishop smoothes his robes, the rest of us can only watch and wonder: will the Church split? Will the faithful be forced to pick a side? Or will everyone just agree to disagree over a nice cup of Earl Grey? In the grand tradition of British compromise, I suspect we’ll all end up in the same pew, just with more grumbling. And perhaps a slightly lower tolerance for new ideas. God bless the status quo. It’s the one thing we can all agree on.
