Mark Almond notes the strange death of Protestant England
Who would have thought the death of Rome's supreme pontiff would interfere with the marriage plans of the next supreme governor of the Church of England? Until now the British royal family, prime minister and the whole establishment - defined by the 1701 Act of Settlement's ban on anyone "reconciled to the bishop of Rome" - would always have put an English wedding ahead of any Roman funeral.
For all of Prince Charles's flirtations with theologians and fakirs of many faiths, his decision to go ahead with a civil marriage between the heir to the throne and a divorcee seemed to deepen the gulf created by Henry VIII's break with Rome's strict rules on marriage.
The Archbishop of Canterbury might be willing to bless it, but no Roman pontiff would, certainly not the last one.
Yet now Henry VIII must be turning in his Windsor grave. The first Defender of the Faith sent no condolences when Pope Clement VII died in 1534. The king was too busy with carrying through the Act of Reformation and trying to father a son on Anne Boleyn.
Instead of putting himself first (as Henry VIII certainly would have) Prince Charles has postponed his nuptials so he can be at the papal obsequies. That does credit to his Christian feelings, but marks a clear break with this country's Protestant past.
English nationalism and English Protestantism are, or at least were, inseparable. The Act of Reformation proclaimed: "This realm of England is an empire entire unto itself." Henry VIII was determined never to bow before a pan-European sovereignty, whether papal or imperial. How times have changed.
For almost four centuries, English Catholics have been praying for the reconversion of their homeland from Protestantism. Yet, almost unremarked, England has become much more like its Catholic European counterparts in lifestyle, even if church attendance ain't what it used to be. But then neither is it in Ireland, Italy or Spain, or even Wojtyla's homeland, Poland.
The first open display of Catholic style in the royal presence since James II left in a hurry was the applause at Diana's funeral and the ovations which accompanied her hearse across England. In September 1997, a previously unsuspected vast Catholic underground made its presence felt. All those package holidays in Spain were not just sun, sea, sangria and sex. Apparently millions of the queen's subjects were learning correct Mediterranean funeral protocol while historians and sociologists thought they were lazing on the beach.
Catholicism hasn't been this chic since Bloody Mary burned Rowan Williams's first Protestant predecessor at the stake. It is not only that the prime minister slips into the pews alongside Cherie, but even John Reid, New Labour's Cardinal Ratzinger-style enforcer, has been haunting Westminster Cathedral's memorial services for John Paul II.
Where is the sudden toppling of Protestant supremacy taking us?
Paisleyite Protestants worried by the Prince of Wales's ecumenical tendencies must have been reassured by his decision to marry a divorcee. But now in death John Paul II has revealed how hollowed out the Protestant Succession has really become.
Does the cavalcade of mourners about to set out from Westminster to the Vatican mean the Virgin Mary's pre-Reformation Merrie England is about to be reborn? Will Mary Tudor become a feminist icon, pushing aside her Amazon half-sister Elizabeth?
Come November 5th this year, will 400 years of the Gunpowder Plot be celebrated as a lost opportunity of rejoining Europe at last redeemed?
Probably not. But Protestant England is dead nonetheless. - (Guardian Service)