An ever-strengthening sense of suffering endured by the Archbishop pervades the latter half of the book as he is forced to deploy his fine, delicately tuned mind to grappling with the arcane intricacies of church-rendingly slow Anglican schism. He manages to escape for a few months last year to write his book on Dostoevsky, itself a masterpiece on the art of writing, faith and suffering that I am also reading in tandem with Shortt’s book and which is worth every second of the five minutes it can take to get past one sentence.
At an afternoon tea party I attended recently in Hampstead, a leading establishment figure railed long and hard about how Dr Williams had far too fine a brain to be beaten up in the service of the Church of England and Anglican Communion. But had Dr Williams not become Archbishop, it is doubtful that either this book would have been written, or that his book on Dostoevsky would have received the recognition it merits. The Anglican difficulties are in their own way as complex as the man ordained by God to lead, and to serve. If the end of Shortt’s book leaves the reader with a prevailing sense of sadness, that is perhaps because the last chapter has yet to be written. Dr Williams himself remains strong and cheerful. And that is because the faith that sustained him through Lori Watson’s suicide, and which has pervaded his presence with a unique charisma all his adult life, remains true. The real clue to understanding the Archbishop is through the lens of belief. Perhaps it is because faith is on the wane in our society, that his voice often sounds like a voice in the wilderness. Shortt shows with commendable honesty why it is the world might judge and misunderstand, but leaves the reader with the discomfiting suspiscion that Jesus would surely approve.
[i] An ever-strengthening sense of suffering endured by the Archbishop pervades the latter half of the book as he is forced to deploy his fine, delicately tuned mind to grappling with the arcane intricacies of church-rendingly slow Anglican schism. [/i]
Suffering is bad. Suffering so that ECUSA can practice heresy with impunity is a tragic, wronghead waste.
He chooses to suffer the consequences of his own inaction primarily and his action with the Lambeth invitations next. This is but self-flagellation with nothing of the martyr or un-chosen suffering about it. Sounds heroical or even stoical but is merely blovial. Given the opportunity to be consiliar he undermines the Primates. I feel no empathy or sympathy but antipathy to his method of “not to decide is to decide” and not to act is to further the hegemony he alleges he does not want.