I am delighted to join you today for part of your Sacred Synod and to share some thoughts with you.

There is a delightful story of an Irishman who went into the local bank to get a loan to buy a house. The Banker looked up the record of the Irishman's accounts and then he addressed the applicant. 'I have one standard test' he said: 'I have one glass eye and one real eye. I will give you the loan if you can tell me which is my glass eye and which is my real eye'. The Irishman studied each of the banker's eyes carefully. 'The glass eye is in the left eye' he finally said. 'You are quite correct' the banker said. 'But how could you tell?' 'It was easy' said the Irishman. 'The left eye has warmth in it'.

I can assure you that there is real warmth in both my eyes as I look at you and as I contemplate the contribution that Catholic Anglicans have made and are making to our beloved 'Ecclesia Anglicana'. In this relatively brief address I wish to offer some thoughts on 'Catholicism and the Unity of the Church'.

In my study in Canterbury there is a wonderful portrait of Edward King, the beloved Bishop of Lincoln. It is a gripping portrait: somehow the artist has caught his sensitivity, holiness, and spirituality. I don't know how it came to be there. Perhaps Frederick Temple had it placed in his study when he rebuilt the Palace and became the first Archbishop of Canterbury for over a century to take up residence in his See. If so, then it is quite a tribute to King that his portrait alone hangs in that quiet room.

There is another picture of Bishop King at Lambeth, one that depicts him on trial before the then Archbishop of Canterbury, Edward Benson. The date was February 4th 1889. The two men confront each other. The tension is almost palpable. Around them are gathered many lawyers, including Dr. Walter Phillimore, Dean of Arches. The Bishop looks tranquil and the Archbishop looks -- well, decidedly uncomfortable. It depicts one of the events in the turbulent history of our Church that was, without exaggeration, epoch-making.

The charges against King seem unbelievable today: mixing water with wine in the chalice; celebrating in the eastward position; causing the 'Agnus Dei' to be sung; the practice of Ablutions; using lighted candles during the Communion service; making the sign of the cross with upraised hand during the Absolution and Benediction.

Archbishop Benson made no secret of the fact that he was deeply embarrassed to adjudicate at the trial of a colleague he could call a personal friend. But he was even more deeply troubled that such sacred matters of faith and spirituality had to be dealt with in the secular arena. Just a few days prior to the trial when at lunch, someone leaned across the table and asked: 'Is anything going to happen at the trial on Tuesday, your Grace?' To which the Archbishop replied: 'Yes, indeed! I have had a guillotine erected in the library and the Bishop of Lincoln will come in led by Sir Walter Phillimore and lay his head down. It will be most affecting! And then the axe will fall - and I have arranged it that it shall come down on Sir Walter's head instead of the Bishop's. And the Bishop will arise and execute a fandango!'

No fandango was executed. The axe fell, and Benson's ruling steered a pastoral passage through the accusations against King, ruling against some of the actions but allowing others with certain provisions attached.

The Lincoln Judgment was monumental, in that it effectively brought to an end the Ritualist controversy of the 19th century. Surprisingly, both men were in different ways vindicated. The Archbishop, by emphasising the priority of tolerance and unity in spiritual matters. And King was vindicated, as well. He may well have lost the immediate battle, but the drive for ritual expression of faith was unstoppable. Indeed, what might have seemed highly unusual then is commonplace in all of our churches today- including in my own chapel at Lambeth Palace.

What emerged from that vivid scene in the Palace's Library was, curiously, not greater dissension but a deeper sense of unity. Although he lamented about legal action against 'one of the saintliness and meekest of men,' ultimately Benson could not allow the unity of the Church to be jeopardised. As for Edward King, he returned to his diocese and issued a pastoral letter to his clergy in which he submitted to the verdict and got on with his ministry. Yet this is not to suggest that the trial did not take its toll on him. Quite to the contrary. The stresses of the four-year ordeal aged him considerably, and history records that he was never quite the same again. Dissension left its scars on the saintly Bishop of Lincoln -- as it does on the Body of Christ, as a whole.

There are, of course, many tantalising threads from that episode that I would love to linger on. But today I will only draw your attention to two of them: Catholicism and Unity.

To begin: What is it to be 'Catholic'?

The word 'Catholic' carries with it many different nuances:

1. It may determine where battle lines are drawn between a Catholic and others in the Church.
2. It may describe one's preferences in matters of liturgical taste.
3. Or, it may denote one's spiritual home.

I believe that, for Edward King, this last interpretation was the case. For him, to be Catholic was to be, first and foremost, at home -- abiding in a Church marked both by faith in an incarnate, crucified, and risen Lord, and by living traditions of faith and spirituality which feed all Christians. I observe that this description has the potential to include many Christians, such as myself, whose background and spiritual formation were not shaped by Anglo-Catholicism. Yet at the same time, we cannot but help to feel 'at home' in traditions of faith which are so unambiguously Christo-centric. Little wonder, then, that the Anglo-Catholic movement has helped shape the universal Church, insofar as it has made visible the fruits of sacramental theology, the beauty of holiness expressed liturgically and ceremonially, and the discipline of the religious life centring on prayer and, for some, monastic living. As I say, my own faith and spirituality have been fed by this vast inheritance, and for that I am sincerely grateful.

What does all this say to us today? I am acutely aware that many Traditional Catholics have passed through a period of intense turmoil in recent years. One result of this turmoil is that some have felt constrained to leave our Communion, and we must respect their decision - even if we may not be convinced of their reasons for doing so.

Yet, another result is that those who have decided to remain - and in whom we rejoice - have been forced to wrestle with their understanding of what ministry means and what the vocation of the Church presumes. It has not been an easy six years for many of you. But I detect that the sun is breaking through the clouds. There is a growing awareness that your tradition is important - no, vital for the Church of England and, more widely, for the Anglican Communion. Without you, our Church would be undeniably the poorer. Today there is renewed confidence in the Catholic tradition as your voice gains strength and as vocations are, once more, growing healthier.

Again, King may provide us all with a wonderful role model here. Not for him the retreat into a religious ghetto. Simply put, King was committed to Christ and he longed for others to know and to follow Him. That was his vision for ministry. It was said of his diocese before King was consecrated Bishop that: 'one third of the clergy were out of their minds, one third were going our of their minds, and one third had no minds to go out of!' Edward King changed all that. He loved his clergy; he visited indefatigably (still a hallmark of a good priest); he spent time with people, the old, the young, and those whom many passed by on the fringe of society. King loved his people because he loved his Lord more. He remains a wonderful model for us to emulate!

I do not need to enlarge on the challenges facing traditional Catholics in our Church today; some of them will no doubt come out in questions. I can offer no easy answers. I can say, however, that your Provincial Episcopal Visitors and the Bishop of Fulham are providing excellent leadership for you and representing you strongly and fearlessly, in the House of Bishops and elsewhere. I hear many cries for more traditional Catholics among the episcopate, as well as in other senior posts - cries that are echoed by some evangelicals, as well. To those requests there are no simple solutions in a Church structured like our own, and I suspect that there will always be debate about fair levels of representation. What we may all agree about, however, is that our Church needs more 'Kings' whose undeniable leadership, holiness, and spirituality will transcend barriers of churchmanship and will point us to Christ.

I have spoken of Catholicity; let me now turn to Unity.

I have already alluded to Bishop King's stature in maintaining his integrity within a diverse Church. We face similar challenges in the Church today: we, too, are challenged to respect differences and to tolerate legitimate expressions of doctrinal integrity. You have heard me speak tirelessly about the importance of inter-dependence in the Body of Christ. Just recently I have argued the point that unity as much as truth is a first-order issue for Christians. Ephesians, after all, urges us to 'keep the unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace'. And in our profession of faith, the Creed, we affirm our belief in ONE 'holy, catholic and apostolic' Church. The mark of unity precedes the other three marks of the Church. But unity and catholicity are indivisible, two sides of the same coin. Here is how Hans Kung has put it: "The catholicity of the Church. . . consists in a notion of entirety, based on identity, and resulting in universality. From this it is clear that unity and catholicity go together; if the church is one, it must be universal; if it is universal, it must be one. Unity and catholicity are two interwoven dimensions of one and the same church."

Admittedly, there are times when one's conscience might lead to the final step of separating from fellow Christians - but such times are very rare, indeed. More frequent are times when our conscience is troubled in holding the tension between our love of truth and our concern for unity. At such times, where do we turn for guidance?

Michael Ramsey found his guidance in the Cross. He wrote in The Gospel and the Catholic Church: 'The movement towards the problem of the reunion of Christendom is also compelled to see its problems in close connection with the Passion'. Ramsey goes on to say that the question of unity will not be solved through easy humanistic ideas of fellowship and brotherhood, but rather by the hard road of the Cross. He urges us to see one another as sisters and brothers of the Cross.

So, too, for us. For example, let us take the issue of women in the ordained ministry. There remain deep divisions within the Anglican Communion. On the one hand, we must recognise as a Communion that there are those who continue to seek to be faithful Anglicans in spite of their deep theological questions about the rightness of women in the Priesthood. I believe they should be respected for their integrity and for their devotion to Christ. For many of them there is no other place that they can call home - and to deny them room in our household is an ironic contradiction of our much-vaunted catholicity and comprehensiveness. As I have underscored on many occasions, I welcome and encourage efforts to maintain real communion among those of different views, and I urge that we resist the temptation to sideline anyone.

On the other hand, I must call on those who are troubled by the ordination of women to accept that women now have respected places as canonically-ordained people within our Communion, and that they, too, should be honoured and welcomed. In those Provinces where women have been ordained Priests, their gifts and the exercise of their ministries should be allowed full rein. Let me quote again the splendid words of Michael Ramsey who, in concluding his remarks on the Passion, stated: 'The Cross is the place where the theology of the Church has its meaning, where the unity of the Church is a deep and present reality, and where the Church is already showing the peace of God and the bread from heaven to the nations of mankind'.

From my experience of the world-wide Church, wherever Christians are able to meet with the Cross at the centre of any conflict they will find sufficient resources to meet in understanding - even if they will not find agreement for some time. And what Christians discover through respect and loving encounter is echoed in the wise words of Ted Scott, that splendid former Primate of Canada: 'The Church will only be able to act with authority as it becomes an accepting, loving and supportive, challenging community, a community held together by 'bonds of affection'. This paints a picture of a Church with its gaze fixed outwards - towards the society in which it is set, the wider world, and the marginalised, those whose voices are not heard: a Church whose priority is mission for it knows that we serve the missionary God - who sends his Son, and in his name and with his power sends you and me. I am well aware that many of you here have mission high on your agenda, in your day to day work in your parishes and other areas of ministry, through retreats organised for clergy and laity and through other initiatives such as 'Fan the Flame'. The commitment to mission among many Anglican Catholics is undoubted and long-standing - often a deliberately incarnational style of mission, with its focus firmly on the needs and hopes of the community in which a particular congregation, a particular church is set. Although keeping our eyes firmly fixed both on our missionary God and on his work of mission will not bring instant solutions to the problems that beset us and the divisions among us, this will put them in a proper perspective and give us real hope that God will show us a way through to a new unity, and a new catholicity.

I wonder if in conclusion I may pull together a number of points reflecting on the situation we have inherited:

1. First, we must recognise - each and every one of us - that the gift of unity is so precious and so fragile that we must value it and find ways to deepen it whenever our common faith is strained. Our unity is not merely a unity of confessional identity, but it is also a unity of ministry embodied in the collegiality and continuity of our Bishops. Our historic Sees are derived, after all, from the historic three-fold ministry and the apostolicity of the Church. It is this very notion of continuity that underpins our identity and unity as Anglicans. This is why, with respect, I must challenge the concept of a "Third Province": I find the theology behind this proposal alien to Anglican ecclesiology and incomprehensible within our tradition. If we cannot maintain differences within the bishops, clergy, and laypeople of the Church, a Third Province is no solution. It is another name for institutionally-validated schism. Unity, in order to be real, must be able to withstand the severest strain without breaking.
2. Second, I await with interest the report of the Working Party of the Act of Synod that the Bishop of Blackburn is chairing. It is not for me to try to predict or influence what will be in that report, but I do hope that it will consider a number of questions seriously. For example:
• Recognising the vital role that the PEVs are playing, how can we find ways of ensuring that their voice is heard in General Synod?
• And again, how can we ensure that those who cannot assent to the sacramental ministry of women in the Church can continue to play a full part in exercising ministry as Bishops, Deans, and Archdeacons?

Above all, within all of this discussion we must find ways of making visible the highest possible degree of communion as followers of the One Lord.

I began with that story of sight so let me end with sight - or, more precisely, with vision. "We must make visible the highest possible degree of communion as followers of the One Lord." THIS should be our common vision if we are to move forward as one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. Edward King and Edward Benson are celebrated today because, in the face of dissent and differences, they each were committed to the unity of the Body of Christ above all else. And in the face of dissent and differences, they were able to look at one another with true warmth in their eyes. Their belief in God and in the Church gave them eyes to see their differences as new possibilities, new opportunities, and new challenges to be addressed. We have much to learn from their faithful example.

I believe that Archbishop Benson's final words on the Lincoln case remain instructive for us today. Benson wrote: "The Clergy are the natural prompters and fosterers of the Divine instinct 'to follow after things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another.'"

May our common Lord give us the courage and clarity of vision to follow after those things which will make for peace and unity.