Installation of Archbishop Sarah Mullally

I write this note as I return from Canterbury and my presence at the Service of Installation that inaugurated the new ministry of Bishop Sarah Mullally, now translated from the see of London, as Archbishop of Canterbury. There can be few places so evocative of the long and amazing history of Christianity in the British Isles than the cathedral and cathedra into which she was placed in the city of Canterbury in Kent.1

It was an enormous honour to be present at this historic service and that I was even able to convey my personal greetings to Her Grace, Archbishop Mullally, immediately after the service had ended. She kindly recalled our various meetings in St. Paul’s Cathedral and in the parish of Mayfair, while I added of course that all in Boston would wish to convey their greetings too! 

I was delighted to meet so many other familiar faces and friends on this occasion, including Bishop Anthony Ball – well known to me from my time in Egypt at All Saints’ Cathedral – who is now the personal representative of the Archbishop of Canterbury and Anglican Communion to the Vatican; as also The Rev’d. Dr. Matthew Olver, Executive Director and Publisher of the Living Church, and Dr. Christopher Wells, of the Anglican Communion Office and Director of Unity, Faith and Order for the Anglican Communion (that has prepared the The Nairobi-Cairo Proposals, which have proposed significant modifications to how the central institutions in the Communion may work in the future, including those of the Archbishopric of Canterbury, The Primates, The Lambeth Conference, and even the conditions necessary in order to be Anglican). 

Archbishops of Canterbury actually undergo a “triple enthronement,” respectively in the choir of the cathedral as diocesan bishop, in the chapter house as titular abbot of St. Augustine’s Abbey, and in the “chair of Augustine” as Primate of All England. The complex history of the cathedra in Canterbury reminds us that Christianity in Britain long predated the arrival of St. Augustine – profoundly significant as that arrival was. 

The context of that arrival also reminds us of the important role women have always played in that history going back to the time of St. Augustine himself, when we would think of Bertha of Kent especially. Indeed, without her his mission, he would never have succeeded.

At that time, Christian royal women were often married into pagan dynasties, but this was cleverly done within the framework of expressly negotiated treaties that guaranteed their continued right to practice their faith. This then entailed that there then came chaplains, liturgical books, and the expectation of Christian worship in the very midst of the surrounding non-Christian courts. In this way, Christianity and its sacraments were made visibly present while the clergy, through the ministry of the word, were also able to explain the faith and render it progressively more plausible at the highest political level. Thus was a top down process of evangelism initiated which over time had enormous impact. 

And so it was that Bertha of Kent, herself a Frankish princess, married the pagan Æthelberht, but on the strict condition that she could maintain her religion and worship. She brought with her Bishop Liudhard and a church formerly left in ruins in Canterbury (one that dated all the way back to the time of the later Roman Empire), its edifice newly restored and made her chapel. St. Martin’s still stands to this day in the middle of Canterbury, and is recognised as the probably the oldest in Britain and the English speaking world. Its presence, at the behest of Queen Bertha, meant that it was ready and established well ahead of Augustine’s arrival and gave him an immediate base.  

Early sources note that Bertha was “learned in letters,” and we still have copies of correspondence with Pope Gregory who reminded her that it was her Christian duty to influence her husband’s religious views. And he even upbraided her for not proceeding faster. In the end her efforts bore fruit, as she encouraged Æthelberht’s conversion to the point that he was indeed baptised and then proceeded to promote the wider conversion of his people. This unique pattern of evangelism was then repeated when their daughter Æthelburh, married into Northumbria and again played a key part in Edwin’s eventual conversion.

So we see that Bertha made it possible for Æthelberht first to receive Augustine and his Christian mission, and then the preaching of the gospel that followed; it was she who thus caused Canterbury, rather than London, to emerge as the primary seat of the new mission and ultimately of the English Church itself.

Over the seventh and eighth centuries, Canterbury endured as the only English see with an unbroken institutional link to Augustine’s mission, while the external Roman connection was used to advantage in the struggle to assert and maintain independence from the powerful northern kingdoms of Northumbria and Mercia. 

Full alignment with the Papacy came to fruition at the Synod of Whitby in 664, whereafter the English church, with the See and Archbishop of Canterbury at its head, came to be seen as the heir of both the earlier, original British Christianity and the form that spread later after St. Gregory the Great’s Augustinian mission – which therefore over time came to be understood as having “re-established” or “restored” Christianity in England.

It is fitting to recall the Prayer of The Most Reverend Albert Chama, Primate of the Church of the Province of Central Africa, as Archbishop Mullally was placed in St. Augustine’s Chair:

Almighty and everlasting God,

you have called your servant Sarah

to shepherd your Church

and proclaim your Gospel.

Grant her wisdom rooted in your Word;

courage to speak the truth in love;

and compassion to serve with humility.

Strengthen her in prayer and holiness of life,

that she may guide your people faithfully;

build up the unity of the Anglican Communion

and the whole Church throughout the world;

and bear witness to your kingdom in the world.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


1. The current episcopal throne (cathedra) is medieval and constructed from five large stone elements. It dates from the early 13th century and was made to replace two successive ones both destroyed by fire, respectively in 1067 and 1174. It is made of “Petworth marble” (which is actually a highly polishable freshwater limestone) ​and cathedral accounts show it was made between about 1201 and 1204, roughly six centuries after the arrival of Augustine himself. An even earlier cathedra is attested to have existed in the Anglo‑Saxon and Romanesque cathedral, described by Eadmer as “constructed with handsome workmanship and of large stones and cement.”

caret-downclosefacebook-squarehamburgerinstagram-squarelinkedin-squarepauseplaytwitter-square