DURING the last 18 months or so, I have had the opportunity to visit 36 other Primates of the Anglican Communion, with my wife, Caroline, in their own homes, at various points: 35 together, one by myself.

This has involved a total of 14 trips, lasting 96 days in all. I, incidentally, calculated that it involves more than 11 days actually sitting in aeroplanes, and something like two standing next to the carousels wondering if your luggage is going to appear. In case you think the age of miracles has passed, I haven't lost a single bag (though one of my colleague did).

This seemed to be a good moment, therefore, to speak a little about the state of the Communion, and to look honestly at some of the issues that are faced, and the possible ways forward.

First of all, and this needs to be heard very clearly, the Anglican Communion exists and is flourishing in roughly 165 countries, despite reports to the contrary. There has been comment over the last year that issues around the Communion should not trouble us in the Church of England, because the Communion has, for all practical purposes, ceased to exist. Not only does it exist, but almost everywhere (there are some exceptions) the links to the See of Canterbury, notwithstanding its Archbishop, are profoundly valued.

The question as to its existence is, therefore, about what it will look like in the future. That may be very different, and I will come back to the question.

Secondly, Anglicanism is incredibly diverse. To sit, in the space of a few months, in meetings with the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, the Primate of Australia, the Primate of South Africa, the Moderator of the Church of South India, the Primate of Nigeria, and many others, is to come away utterly daunted by the differences that exist. They are huge, beyond capacity to deal with adequately in the time for this presentation.

Within the Communion there are perhaps more than 2000 languages - I haven't counted, but there are 407 in Nigeria alone - and perhaps more than 500 distinct cultures and ways of looking at the world.

Some of its churches sit in the middle of what are literally the richest parts of the globe, and have within them some of the richest people on earth. I've had my first experience of meeting billionaires. They're very like millionaires, only richer, in case you were wondering.

The vast majority are poor. Despite appearances here, we are, to use Pope Francis's phrase, a poor Church for the poor.

Many are in countries where change is at a rate that we cannot even begin to imagine. I think of the man I met in Papua New Guinea who is a civil engineer trained in Scotland, and whose grandfather was the first of his tribe to see a wheel as a small aircraft landed in a clearing in the forest near his home.

At the same time, there is a profound unity in many ways. Not in all ways, but having said what I have about diversity, which includes diversity on all sorts of matters, including sexuality, marriage and its nature, the use of money, the relations between men and women, the environment, war and peace, distribution of wealth and food, and a million other things, underpinning us is a unity imposed by the Spirit of God on those who name Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour.

This diversity is both gift and challenge, to be accepted and embraced, as we seek to witness in truth and love to the good news of Jesus Christ.

Thirdly, the potential of the Communion under God is beyond anything we can imagine or think about. We need to hold on to that: there is a prize, the quest for which it is worth almost anything to achieve. That prize is visible unity in Christ despite functional diversity. It is a prize that is not only of infinite value, but also requires enormous sacrifice and struggle to achieve.

Yet if we even get near it, we can at last speak with authority to a world where, over the last year, we have seen more than ever an incapacity to deal with difference, and a desire to oversimplify the complex and diverse nature of human existence, for no better reason than we cannot manage difference and dealing with the Other.

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Yet in Christ we are held together. In Christ the barriers are broken, peace is held out to us as a gift established, which needs living. In Christ there is hope of a life that provides hope for peace in our world.

Fourthly, the Communion is extremely active. Let me give you a few examples. In Mexico, a small community, abandoned by all, of people who had lost their homes and were living in the badlands, where a priest - totally unoccupied, apart from a full-time career in a professional area and running another parish, as well as being unpaid - was sent by his bishop to start a church, something he thought likely to cost him his life.

But there he went, to the very poorest of the poor, and a community now exists, established with numerous baptisms, growing spirituality, and a love and concern and compassion for one another that speaks of the living presence of Jesus among them, and brought us to tears when we saw it.

Another example: a conference in Oklahoma City, in which from people around the Episcopal Church, with patience and courtesy to one another, there was discussion over the issues around the use of firearms and the meaning of the Second Amendment, the right to bear arms, in practice in the modern-day USA.

The South Sudan, and after a day spent burying the dead of a great massacre, the Archbishop of the Sudan, Daniel, stood up with extraordinary courage and called for reconciliation. Those from the rebel group would already have opposed him, those from his own group would not necessarily have been impressed with such compromise. To do that puts any of our struggles into a real perspective.

In England, a church in the middle of an extraordinarily mixed area of religious faith, faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ, active in its worship, lively in its preaching, yet being the centre and focus of religious leadership in the area so as to enable difference to be handled with beauty.

There are so many others that merit a presentation of its own. Every trip was full of them every day.

We live as Anglicans in a community that exists, that is deeply engaged with its world almost everywhere, that is diverse and argumentative and fractured, but yet shows in so many places, both known and unknown, the power and love of Christ through his Spirit at work in our world. We live in a Communion which merits celebration and thanksgiving as well as prayer and repentance.

A FLOURISHING Communion but also a divided Communion.

I do not want to sound triumphalist. There are enormous problems. We have deep divisions in many areas, not only sexuality. There are areas of corruption, other areas where the power of the surrounding culture seems to overwhelm almost everyone at one point or another.

Our divisions may be too much to manage.

In many parts of the Communion, including here, there is a belief that opponents of one view or another are either faithless to the tradition, or by contrast that they are cruel, judgemental, inhuman. I have to say that we are in a state so delicate that without prayer and repentance it is hard to see how we can avoid some serious fractures.

In an age of near-instant communication, because the Communion exists and is full of life, vigour, and growth, of faith and trust in Jesus Christ and love for him, everything that one Province does echoes around the world. Every sermon or speech here is heard within minutes, and analysed half to death. Every careless phrase in an interview by some random wandering Archbishop or other is seen as a considered policy statement. And what is true of all Provinces is ten times more so for us in the Church of England, and especially us in this Synod. We never speak only to each other, and the weight of that responsibility, if we love each other and the world as we should, must affect both our actions and our words.

FLOURISHING, divided, and then a Communion under threat.

There is persecution in the Communion, in many, many areas. We are a poor and a persecuted Church.

We are well aware of that, and need to remember it constantly. In very many parts of the world, particularly parts of Africa and the Middle East, but also South-East Asia, persecution comes from jihadist attacks which have killed many, many Anglicans, other Christians, and in largest number Muslims, over the last few years. Not a day goes by without some report being received of the suffering and persecution of the Churches around the world, and of cries for help and requests for support. Not a day goes by without something that should break one's heart at the courage and the difficulties involved.

There is immense suffering, not only persecution, in the Communion. Two weeks ago in Ghana, we were briefed by the chief of staff of the UN mission combating Ebola. Its terrible spread indescribable, a Black Death sweeping through three dioceses of West Africa, is by itself a catastrophe of historic proportions. The suffering of people in the afflicted countries, the courage of their medical services, the way in which the Church is putting itself on the line day by day, makes the blood run cold and the heart surge in admiration. We must help, we must pray, and we must call for more help.

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In South Sudan, the human-created food shortage threatens to turn into a terrible famine, perhaps the worst for two generations.

In DRC, the war continues with the utmost cruelty, with sexual violence a routine weapon of war.

The list could go on and on, and on, especially in the Middle East, Palestine, and Israel, the Levant, and the Euphrates valley.

WHERE do we go, then? So what do we do? Where does this extraordinary, fractious, diverse, argumentative, wonderful, united, ferocious, peaceful, persecuted, suffering body that is the Anglican Communion go? And what is the impact on us here in the Church of England?

First, as I have said, nothing we say is heard only by us.

Secondly, we should rejoice in being part of this monumental challenge, of this great quest, of this generational search for the prize of being a people who can hold unity in diversity and love in difference.

It is almost unimaginably difficult, and most certainly cannot be done except with a whole-hearted openness to the Holy Spirit at work among us. It comes with prayer, and us growing closer to God in Jesus Christ, and nothing else is an effective substitute: there are no strategies and no plans beyond prayer and obedience.

Thirdly, the future of the Communion requires sacrifice. The biggest sacrifice is that we cannot only work with those we like, and hang out with those whose views are also ours. Groups of like-minded individuals meeting to support and encourage each other may be necessary, indeed often are very necessary, but they are never sufficient.

Sufficiency is in loving those with whom we disagree. What may be necessary in the way of party politics is not sufficient in what might be called the polity of the Church.

In this Church of England we must learn to hold in the right order our calling to be one, and our calling to advance our own particular position and seek our own particular views to prevail in the Church generally, whether in England or around the world. We must speak the truth in love.

In practice, that has to mean the discipline of meeting with those with whom we disagree, and listening to each other carefully and lovingly. It means doing that as much as when we meet with those with whom we do agree, whether it is during sessions of General Synod, or other times.

It means celebrating our salvation together, and praying together to the God who is the sole source of our hope and future, together.

It means that even when we feel a group is beyond the pale for its doctrine, or for its language about others or us, we must love. Looking at my postbag, I know what a challenge that is. Love one another, love your neighbour, love your enemy. Who in the world is in none of those categories?

All of us prefer being with those whose tradition we know and in which we were brought up. I am as much part of that as anyone else here. But I have gained equally in my own walk with Jesus Christ through being willing to meet with others whose traditions I did not find sympathetic, and learning to be as transparent with them as I am with my closest friends. I've learnt as much from them as from anything else that I have ever done.

AND for the practical future of the Communion? I have not called a Primates' Meeting on my own authority (although I could), because I feel that it is necessary for the Anglican Communion to develop a collegial model of leadership, as much as it is necessary in the Church of England, and I have therefore waited for the end of the visits to Provinces.

If the majority view of the Primates is that such a meeting would be a good thing, one will be called in response. The agenda for that meeting will not be set centrally, but from around the Primates of the Communion.

One issue that needs to be decided on, ideally by the Primates' Meeting, is whether and, if so, when there is another Lambeth Conference. Contrary to rumour, it is certainly achievable; but the decision is better made together carefully than in haste to meet an artificial deadline of a year ending in 8.

A Lambeth Conference is so expensive and so complex that we have to be sure that it is utterly worth while. It will not be imposed, but be part of a collective decision.

The underlying point to be established is how the Anglican Communion is led, and what its vision is in the 21st century, in a post-colonial world. How do we reflect the fact that the majority of its members are in the Global South? What is the role of the Instruments of Communion, especially the Archbishop of Canterbury, and what does that look like in lived-out practice?

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These are great decisions that must be taken to support the ongoing and uninterrupted work of ministering to a world in great need and in great conflict. Whatever the answer, it is likely to be very, very, very different from the past.

AND so, the good news: the Communion exists, and is doing wonderful things. The bad news: there are great divisions and threats. I doubt one person in this room finds either of those that surprising.

The challenge: there is a prize of being able to develop unity in diversity and also, with deeper and deeper ecumenical relations, to demonstrating the power of Christ to break down barriers, and to provide hope for a broken world.

We must grasp that challenge. It is the prize of a world seeing Christ loved and obeyed in his Church, a world hearing the news of his salvation. So, let us here, in the Church of England - above all, in its General Synod - be amongst those who take a lead in our sacrificial, truthful, and committed love for the sake of Christ for his mission, in his world.