AND ANOTHER THING
A time to wipe away the blood and tears of the Reformation
PAUL JOHNSON
It is arguable whether the Church of England ever had the right to call itself the national church, that is the institution whose legitimacy, doctrines and liturgy enjoy the whole-hearted support of the great majority of English men and women. The 16th-century dispossession of the mediaeval church was not so much a refor- mation, for the church of 1530 was in many ways vigorous, innovative and holy, and certainly not a corrupt body in need of rad- ical reform. It was, rather, an attempt by a small, ruthless minority to introduce a com- pletely different religious ideology and form of worship — what was later called Calvinism. The attempt failed because the English people, from peasants to ruling class, did not want it. But so much damage had been done in the process of the failed putsch, and so many passions of xenopho- bia and greed aroused, that the universal church could not be restored, and the set- tlement of 1559 was a compromise which papered over deep divisions and could be sustained only by the active support of the secular power.
This compromise church never aroused enthusiasm, as distinct from acquiescence, and even that was confined largely to the gentry and the rural poor. When Britain became industrialised and urbanised, the established church was unable to dominate the old, expanded cities, like London, let alone the new ones, like Manchester, despite its control of the educational sys- tem and much expenditure by the state. The Nonconformists and the Catholics were the victors, in so far as anyone was. Moreover, throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, the church of compromise had to be kept together by further compromises, which steadily eroded its doctrines, authori- ty and self-respect, until it eventually embarked on the pseudo-democracy of the synodal system, making nonsense of its claims to be a church of tradition and holy writ.
Sooner or later the Synod was bound to render the compromise unworkable by pushing through a change unacceptable to a large minority. That has now happened over women priests, itself foreshadowed made inevitable indeed — by the decision in the 1980s to ordain women as deacons. The issue, then, is not women priests as such, but the right of the Synod, itself a modern innovation, to determine, as and when it pleases, what the church believes,
just as a sovereign parliament settles secu- lar matters.
It is not yet clear whether the end of the compromise will split the Church of Eng- land or merely marginalise it. A large num- ber of parish priests, and the bulk of their parishioners, would like to move over to Rome, which remains a church with an unassailable magIsterium. But practical con- siderations often determine these things, as they did in the 16th century. Most Anglican priests fear they cannot afford to lose, their stipends and pensions, or the vicarages where they and their families live, to join a church which, certainly in this country, has never been wealthy. But even if a mass exo- dus does not take place, that does not mean Anglicanism can carry on as before. The compromise has gone for ever, the uni- versalist element has lost faith in Canter- bury and, with time, will vanish. Whatever claim the rump had to call itself a national church has now gone and, like the old Church of Ireland or the Church of Wales, it is doomed in its established form.
But for Anglicanism simply to wither away into a sect would be a heavy blow for the cause of Christianity in our country. Roman Catholicism, as the largest Chris- tian church in England, has a plain duty to prevent this happening by giving a home to universalist Anglicans promptly and with- out argument. Of course there is a small, vocal group of Catholic radicals, some of them political 'entryists' posing as converts, who want to bar the Anglican newcomers who, they fear, would help to frustrate efforts to promote 'feminist' and 'libera- tion' theology, or other rank heresies. This group argues that mere opposition to women priests is not 'enough' to secure the right to be recognised as Catholics. But to take this view is wilfully to misunderstand the plight of the Anglican universalists. The truth of the matter is that the would-be converts are infinitely closer to the Catholic faith than the radical subversives, and will make far better Catholics. We not only want them, we need them. They will be a huge access of strength to Catholic ortho- doxy, notably in the provision of dutiful, sincere and obedient priests.
A slightly more respectable reason for going slow in the reception of the converts is the fear that any eagerness will damage the ecumenical movement. This fear is reflected in the chilly and ambiguous tone of the statement put out last week by the Catholic bishops of England and Wales. Despite the manifest failure of attempts to reunite the two churches, some Catholic bishops put good relations with their Angli- can colleagues before any other considera- tion, including truth itself. But the Church of England, as now composed and led, will never be one with Rome: quite the con- trary, it is drifting further away, and has a much better prospect of merging with Non- conformity. By seeking the ecumenical chimera, the Catholic bishops are in danger of missing a historic opportunity to end the 450-year schism in English Catholicism.
I suspect that the Catholic bishops, even the sensitive Cardinal Hume, cannot be trusted to handle this crisis with the warmth and magnanimity required. The Pope should take the matter into his own hands. He must make it plain that he, speaking on behalf of the universal church, intends not merely to receive but to wel- come all Anglicans, priests and laity who now want to end their exile. Rome should kill the fatted calf but it should greet them not as prodigal sons and daughters but as true Catholics who have a positive right to take their places in our community. We must display the maximum possible gen- erosity in all the liturgical, financial and organisational arrangements. Conditional ordination should be bestowed without hes- itation on all converted priests. John Paul II could begin the process with an imagina- tive gesture of ecclesiastical charity by ask- ing the former Bishop of London, Graham Leonard, who is the unofficial leader of the would-be converts, to come to Rome, receiving him personally into full commu- nion, and then bestowing on him a cardi- nal's hat — as with John Henry Newman, only more promptly. This would prepare the way for a papal visit to London, in which the Pope would personally bless the mass conversion by conducting the service himself. It is not a time for narrow calcula- tion and scanning of the small print, but of joyful celebration at the workings of the Holy Spirit.
Previous page
