From the hallowed, incense-choked halls of the Vatican to the damp, tea-stained corridors of Lambeth Palace, a theological thunderstorm is brewing. The Holy Father, a man whose mitre is increasingly resembling a crown of thorns woven from red tape, has unleashed a gravelly admonition: schism, that ancient spectre, is tapping at the church doors. His Holiness, clearly having had enough of the delicate minuet between conservative and liberal bishops, has declared that a recent spate of ordinations is nothing short of a direct threat to the unity of the One True Church.
The room, I imagine, went silent save for the clinking of rosaries and the shuffling of silk vestments. Now, enter the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, a man whose diplomatic skills have been honed by years of mediating between warring factions of tea drinkers and biscuit dunkers. He has offered, with the measured grace of a man who has just discovered a stolen biscuit in his own pantry, to mediate the dispute.
One can almost hear the collective groan from the Vatican: 'Oh, here comes the Anglicans with their compromising and their comfy seating.' But let us be serious for a moment, for the situation is no laughing matter. The ordination of bishops, particularly those with views that diverge from the party line on matters of traditional doctrine, has opened a fault line that runs not only through Rome but through the entire Christian world.
The Pope, a man who has proven himself both a reformer and a traditionalist, is now caught between the rock of progressive demand and the hard place of conservative purity. The Archbishop's offer, like a nicely balanced cup of Earl Grey, is meant to soothe tempers. But one must wonder: can the subtle art of English mediation really resolve a schism that has its roots in the very essence of apostolic succession?
Or will it be like trying to mend a broken stained-glass window with sticky tape and prayers? I say, bring in a bottle of good gin, open the windows, and let the Holy Spirit do its work. For if the Pope and the Archbishop can't sort this out over a decent cuppa, then we're all in for a very long Lent.
