by Rowan Williams, Spectator
[…] Sarah Mullally was installed as Archbishop of Canterbury on 25 March. The ceremony was – appropriately – joyful and splendid. But I would guess that Sarah is feeling just a bit of that never-the-same-again apprehension. Now you are Out There. You’re responsible for something happening that is in every way beyond you. You will be exposed to unrealistic expectation and unreasonable attack. You know you are going to fail in all sorts of ways. And you need to know that the weight and importance of what is put into your hands is such that it will survive your failures. I hope there will always be people around to tell Sarah this. And I think with some concern about what it’s like for those starting out in exposed positions who don’t have anything or anyone to give that assurance. What is it like to be a politician who doesn’t or can’t believe in grace of some sort? Something to think about when we pray for our leaders. What happens when the obsession with never being seen to fail becomes a total, suffocating imprisonment? Take a look at the White House, maybe. And some other corridors of power across the world.
At the beginning of the week there are a couple of phone calls from media outlets wanting a comment on the burning question of what Prince William thinks of the Church of England. The prince’s comments seem to me to be candid and realistic – implying some recognition that trying to hold certain positions without an awareness of grace, and the freedom this offers, is going to be more or less impossible. Around the time of the Coronation, there were some sneers and grumbles about the ceremonial anointing. But there is a clear message there about the risks of status and influence without the knowledge that not everything is about you; that what you hold and represent has more resources than you alone.