George Carey - Know the Truth

In the making of this book there are a number of people who should be thanked and appreciated. I am so grateful to Julia Lloyd, who spent a year at Lambeth going through the records and recording speeches, travel journals and staff records in such a way that my task was made much easier. My son Andrew has also been a tower of strength, going over the draft chapters with a careful eye, reminding me of incidents I had forgotten – and in some cases those I wanted to forget! I am grateful to him for his thoroughness, wisdom, insight and incisiveness. Thanks must go to Sir Philip Mawer, Richard Hop-good and Richard Lay for their help with the chapter on the Church Commissioners; to Dr Mary Tanner for her careful insights on the ecumenical chapter; to Canon Andrew Deuchar, Canon Roger Symon and Dr Alistair Macdonald-Radcliffe for their suggestions with respect to the chapters dealing with the Anglican Communion; to Canon Andrew White and Canon David Marshall for positive comments on the inter-faith chapter; and to the Very Reverend Michael Mayne and Sir Ewan Harper for helpful criticisms of the chapter on the Royal Family. I alone am responsible for the use I have made of all the assistance offered; any shortcomings are entirely my fault.

I also wish to record my debt of gratitude to those whose contribution is deeper than I can possibly state. To Dr Ruth Etchells, whose friendship goes back many years, and whose wisdom has always been there and often sought. To Dr James and the Reverend Elisabeth Ewing, two dear American Christians, whose grace has touched the lives of our family so many times over the last decade. To Sir Siggy and Lady Hazel Sternberg and Lord Greville Janner, wonderful Jewish friends whose kindness has reminded me constantly of what we owe to Judaism. In recent years a rich friendship has been established with Professor Akbar Ahmed, a dear Muslim friend, whose scholarship and commitment to dialogue I admire. To Professor Richard McBrien, Professor of Theology at Notre Dame University; Beverley Bra-zauskas; and Professor Gerry O’Collins of the Gregorian University, Rome, for their rich Catholic contribution to our lives.

Finally, I am grateful, too, for the help and professionalism of my editors and the staff at HarperCollins. The final word of thanks must go to God himself. My journey has been one of finding the truth about the Creator through his final revelation in Jesus, the Christ. If my story helps others to find him my unworthy offering will be worth all that Eileen and I have shared together.

GEORGE CAREY

May 2005

‘It is perhaps significant that though state education has existed in England since 1870, no Archbishop has so far passed through it. The first Prime Minister to do so was Lloyd George. Nor has anyone sat on St Augustine’s Chair, since the Reformation, who was not a student at Oxford or Cambridge. Understandably nominations to Lambeth have been conditioned by the contemporary social climate, but such a limitation of the field intake is doubtless on the way out. It is inconceivable that either talent or suitability can be so narrowly confined.’

Edward Carpenter , Cantuar: The Archbishops in Their Office (1988)

AS THE DOOR OF THE OLD PALACE BANGED behind Eileen and the family as they departed for the cathedral, I was left alone in the main lounge to await the summons that would most certainly change the direction of my life. At lunchtime with my family around the kitchen table there had been nervous laughter as Andrew, who had had his hair cut that morning, recounted hearing another customer talk about the ‘enthornment’ of the new Archbishop. We all agreed that that was a great description of it, although another of the family volunteered, ‘At least he didn’t say “entombment”.’

Somewhere in the building Graham James, my Chaplain, was sorting out the robes I would shortly wear. From the lounge window I could see and hear the crowds of people teeming around the west front of the cathedral. They were there to capture a glimpse of the Princess of Wales and other dignitaries including the Prime Minister, John Major. I could not help thinking wryly that within twenty yards of where I was standing another Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket, had met his death in the same cathedral on 30 December 1170. My journey from this room was not going to lead me to his fate, but it was bound to bring me too in touch with opposition and conflict, as well as with much joy and fulfilment. The massive, enduring walls of the cathedral overshadowing the Old Palace however were a reassuring sign that the faith and folly, the strengths and weaknesses, the boldnesses and blunders of individual Archbishops are enveloped by the tender love of God and His infinite grace.

The television was on in the room, and I could hear Jonathan Dimbleby and Professor Owen Chadwick solemnly discussing the significance of the enthronement of the 103rd Archbishop of Canterbury. Professor Chadwick, a well-known Church historian, was reminding the viewers of the significance in affairs of state of the role of the Archbishop, an office older than the monarchy and integral with the identity of the nation.

Graham swept in with the first set of clothing I had to wear. ‘We’d better get you dressed, Archbishop,’ he said. ‘There’s no backing out now!’

I put on my cassock as I heard Owen Chadwick say that today, 19 April, was the Feast Day of St Alphege, a former Archbishop of Canterbury who, in 1012 ad in Greenwich, was battered to death by Vikings with ox bones because he refused to allow the Church to pay a ransom for his release. It seemed a hazardous mantle I was about to don.

Suddenly a great deal of noise erupted outside, and we walked over to the window to see the Prime Minister arrive with several other Ministers of State. He waved to the crowds and was ushered into the cathedral.

The whole world, it seemed, was present at the service in one way or another. Not only all the important religious leaders in the country – Cardinal Hume and Archbishop Gregorius, Moderators of the Church of Scotland, the Methodist Church and the Free Churches – but also the Patriarchs of the four ancient Sees of Constantinople, Alexandria, Jerusalem and Antioch. Billy Graham was present as my personal guest and as someone whose contribution to world Christianity was unique and outstanding. Cardinal Cassidy represented Pope John Paul II and the Pontifical Council for Christian Unity. Every Archbishop in the Anglican Communion was present, as was every Bishop in the Churches of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland.

Behind me Dimbleby and Chadwick were now speculating about the new Archbishop. I caught several of the comments: ‘A surprising appointment … he has only been a Bishop less than three years … Yes, an evangelical, but open to others … was born in the East End of London … working class … No, certainly not Oxbridge, but has taught in three theological colleges and Principal of another … comes with experience of parish life as well as being Chairman of the Faith and Order Advisory Group … I think he will be an unpompous Archbishop.’

Mention of my background brought home to me how much I owed to my godly and good parents, who sadly were not here to share in today’s momentous events. How proud, and yet how humble, they would have felt. I smiled to myself as I recalled my mother’s loud comment when in 1985 I was made Canon in Bristol Cathedral: ‘Now I know what the Virgin Mary must have felt like!’ Eileen, rather shocked, wheeled on her: ‘Mum, that’s blasphemy!’ Mother, unrepentant, just smiled.

Yes, how thrilled Mum and Dad would have been; but as realistic Christians they would not be glorying in the pomp and majesty of the day, so much as in the service it represented. They would also be sharing in the tumult of my feelings, and my apprehension as I faced a new future.