ANGLICANS observing the scenes in St Peter’s Square on the evening of Thursday of last week could be forgiven for experiencing a twinge of envy. The thousands gathered to greet the new Pope exuded excitement, their proudly borne flags an illustration of the staggering reach of the Roman Catholic Church, which numbers 1.4 billion among its faithful. The atmosphere was jubilant, the setting glorious. And the process for the election, from the drama of the “extra omnes” order to the emergence of white smoke, was rather more thrilling than the slow trickle of news from Church House relaying the formation of the Canterbury Crown Nominations Commission.

Online, commentators have been quick to argue that comparison of the two processes is unfair. The Archbishop of Canterbury is not, as the 105th was fond of pointing out, a Pope for the Anglican Communion. Anyone who has sat through recent General Synod debates on the composition of electoral bodies will be conscious of the great anxiety that accompanies attempts to ensure fairness. The suggestion that the Bishops be locked away to choose number 106 would be unlikely to land well.

But perhaps there are still lessons to be learned from the scenes in Vatican City. The viewing figures for the Coronation — more than 18 million — are a testament to the power of ancient ritual and spectacle. We are visual creatures. And while fewer in number, Anglicans, too, are part of a global Church. Too often, those in the Church of England pay scant attention to the joys, sorrows, and gifts of other provinces, taking notice only when a row over sexual ethics arises. The new Pope’s motto In illo uno unum (“In the One, we are one”) is not an easy one for Anglicans to inhabit.

There may also be something that our next Archbishop can learn from the first steps of Pope Leo XIV, whose expression on the balcony of St Peter’s was that of a man overwhelmed by the magnitude of the occasion, and perhaps the task before him. In his address to the gathered faithful, the first member of the Augustinian order to occupy the chair of St Peter, he told them: “With you I am a Christian, and for you I am a bishop.”

The longer quote, taken from St Augustine’s sermon “On the Anniversary of His Ordination”, reads: “What I am for you terrifies me; what I am with you consoles me. For you I am a bishop, but with you I am a Christian. The former is a duty; the latter a grace. The former is a danger; the latter salvation.” The task with which those who lead our two Churches are entrusted is formidable — one that they cannot carry out in their own strength. Pope Leo XIV’s words remind us that our leaders are also simply fellow Christians, deserving of our prayers as we “journey together toward the homeland that God has prepared for us”.