One would think that the Anglican circus could no longer outdo itself: after women bishops, blessings of homosexual couples, and synods that look like cabarets, comes the big headline—the “first Archbishop of Canterbury”. A lady clad in reds and golds, with a souvenir mitre and aspergillum in hand, as if she were truly occupying the see of Saint Augustine.
The natural thing would be for Catholics, upon seeing such a monstrosity, to react with a sigh of pity… or with a laugh. But no: the bishops of England and Wales, led by Cardinal Vincent Nichols, have hurried to “welcome” the appointment, as if we were facing a solemn act of apostolic succession.
The episcopal statement is museum-worthy: that she will “bring personal gifts,” that we “pray for her,” that we will “work for unity” (that unity which, by the way, would simply be achieved if the Anglicans abandoned their invention and returned to the Church they left almost five centuries ago).
Unity or Complicity?
The scene is grotesque: while an ecclesial communion without sacramental validity invents “archbishopesses” by government decree—because let’s remember that it was Downing Street who made the announcement—, the Catholic successors of the Apostles act as if they were witnessing a historic moment in Christendom.
If at least they had kept silent, it could still be excused as diplomatic courtesy. But no: they rush into servile applause, portraying themselves as enthusiastic accomplices in the farce.
The True Ridicule
The ridicule is not made by Mrs. Mullally, who has enough with playing at mitres and croziers on an empty stage since 1558, when the last Catholic Archbishop of Canterbury, Reginald Pole, died. The ridicule is made by the Catholic bishops who, instead of reminding their faithful that the see has been vacant for almost five centuries, prefer to take photos with ecumenical smiles and textbook phrases.
The Anglican Church is a meme, yes. But for Catholics to pretend that it is serious, that is no longer a meme: it is pure embarrassment.