You don’t have to be a saint to head up the Church of England, William

COULD Prince William be the first monarch in nearly five centuries not to become head of the Church of England when he succeeds to the throne? That is the suggestion in the final excerpt of Robert Hardman’s fascinating biography of King Charles, which has been serialised by the Daily Mail over recent days.

According to Hardman, William greatly respects the Church, and enjoys going to services at Easter and Christmas. But he is said not to be a deeply religious person in the way the late Queen was, and his father is.

A senior palace figure told Hardman: ‘His father is a very spiritual person and happy to talk about faith, but the Prince is not. He doesn’t go to church every Sunday, but then nor do a large majority of the country. He might go at Easter and Christmas, but that’s it.’

Many will think that William’s reported diffidence about becoming ‘Defender of the Faith’ and ‘Supreme Governor’ of the Church of England makes a lot of sense in an age when the average weekly attendance at Anglican services has dropped to some 650,000 people, from over a million as recently as 2012.

They will say that the Established Church no longer represents our modern nation in which there are a growing number of adherents of other faiths such as Islam, as well as more and more people who have no belief in God.

Moreover, if William himself isn’t a person of deep religious conviction, wouldn’t it be hypocritical of him to assume the role of head of our national Church? Much better leave that job to someone who really does believe.

These are alluring arguments, which will find favour with many. But

I am convinced that if William evades the responsibilities accepted by every monarch since Henry VIII broke with Rome, it will be bad both for the Church and the country.

I also believe that the monarch’s position as head of the Church of England affords a kind of protection to people of other faiths. Let me explain.

HOWEVER much congregations have dwindled over the past 50 years, and however godless our society seems, the Church of England remains our national Church, and has far more influence than may first appear.

Just think of Queen Elizabeth’s funeral in September 2022, or the coronation of King Charles last May. Both were intensely moving church services, and both were stirring national occasions.

If the monarch were no longer Supreme Governor, the Church of England would inevitably be disestablished, which is to say it wouldn’t play a central, unifying role in our national life.

I grant there would be one possible benefit of disestablishment, namely that 26 Anglican bishops would no longer be permitted to sit in the House of Lords, where they tend to spout fashionable Left- wing views, and drive some of us potty.

But that gain pales into insignificance when set against the damage that disestablishment would cause. It might be too much to suggest that we would cease to be a Christian country, but we would surely become a less Christian one.

I am talking principally about England, since the monarch is not Supreme Governor of the Church of Scotland, being charged only with ensuring its preservation. Nor, of course, does he or she have any religious authority over the Roman Catholic Church.

Yet in fact the monarch’s role as head of the Church of England affords a kind of protection to other churches throughout Britain, including the Church of Scotland, the Roman Catholic Church, and other denominations.

At her Diamond Jubilee in 2012, Queen Elizabeth II expressed this idea very well. She said: ‘The concept of our Established Church is occasionally misunderstood and, I believe, commonly under-appreciated. Its role is not to defend Anglicanism to the exclusion of other religions. Instead, the Church has a duty to protect the free practice of all faiths in this country.’

She went on to declare that ‘gently and assuredly, the Church of England has created an environment for other faith communities and indeed people of no faith to live freely’. There’s no doubt she was including non-Christian religions.

This seems to me a powerful argument. The consequence of the monarch no longer being head of the Church of England wouldn’t simply be that the Established Church would retreat to the margins of our national life. Other Churches and faiths might also become less secure.

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I don’t pretend the status quo is perfect, but it enjoys general support, even among many atheists and agnostics. Prince William would upset a delicate instrument if he refused to become head of the national Church.

Why might he be thinking of doing so? It’s unlikely to be because he is a non-believer since he voluntarily goes to church on occasion. He was confirmed in the C of E aged 14, though he may of course subsequently have had doubts. Kate was confirmed as an adult, weeks before their wedding in 2011.

I suspect William fears his faith isn’t strong enough for him to assume the role of Supreme Governor. If so, he is mistaken. There have been many monarchs much less devout, including the often dissolute George IV, the philandering Edward VII, and Edward VIII, who gave up his throne to marry the divorced Wallis Simpson.

William seems conscientious by comparison. Moreover, he should realise that his grandmother was blessed with an exceptionally strong faith, as is his father. Not all practising Anglicans — nor all bishops and priests — are deeply spiritual, untroubled believers. William shouldn’t set the bar too high for himself.

In other words, you don’t have to be a saint to be head of the Church of England. You do have to believe in the importance of a national church, though. William has associated himself with several fine causes such as mental health. Surely he won’t shrink from this great cause.

Consider this. If the monarch were no longer head of the C of E, who would be? Presumably the Archbishop of Canterbury of the day. Well, there are good prelates — and not-so-good ones.

The Church of England is far too important to be left entirely in the hands of its archbishops and bishops. Even the best of them inevitably become embroiled in Church politics. They are also likely to find it difficult to communicate with those of other faiths and of none.

NOT so our late Queen and, one trusts, King Charles. After the terrorist attacks in New York in September 2001, Queen Elizabeth II spoke for those who had lost loved ones: ‘ Grief is the price we pay for love.’

No archbishop could have made a tenth of the impact. The Queen’s words carried the authority not just of a respected monarch but of one with a spiritual authority that derived in part from her position as Supreme Governor of the Church of England.

Not every monarch can be as unifying and uplifting as Queen Elizabeth, of course, nor as spiritual. But at least William has been given something to aim for. He is much more likely to fall short if he denies himself the role of head of our national Church.