The Archbishop and the devil

I was listening to ++Rowan on the radio this evening (actually it was a recording from yesterday, I think) talking about Dostoyevsky. Seems the good Archbishop has written a book on the subject, just to keep his mind off the church. What struck me was how different he sounded from the person I've heard trying to explain some theological point for the masses or to defend the Anglican Communion against the onslaughts of the press. This Rowan Williams sounded relaxed, confident, fluent - and a joy to listen to.

What do we do to people when we make them archbishops, bishops, whatever? Seems to me that anyone in the hot seat is bound to be castrated by the position - that they have to put their intellect on hold or use it to wriggle out of answering crass questions or to craft ever more byzantine compromises.

One point which arose from the discussion itself concerned the function of evil in the world. Dostoyevsky's devil apparently claims (I haven't read any Dostoyevsky) that without him - ie without evil - the world would cease to exist. I didn't find ++Rowan's explanation of this convincing or particularly lucid: anyone like to enlarge on the topic?

Anger recollected in tranquillity

I went nowhere near the place on Sunday's opening service. The ever-anxious leadership had provided the Cathedral security guards with a large photo of me, posted at the security checkpoints, presumably to keep me from "crashing the gates" of the opening service. No one believed that I would be true to my promise to the Archbishop not to attend.

I took the above from Canterbury Tales from the Fringe, Bishop Gene's blog, which I've been following throughout the Lambeth Conference. As a result, I was less surprised than my companions, less shocked, when he alluded to this absurd criminalisation in his sermon on Sunday, because I'd had time to absorb the information. But seeing him, listening to his calm voice as he described this dreadful treatment at the hands of fellow-Christians, I found myself becoming angry.

And so I want to know this: did the Archbishop of Canterbury know that this had been done? If he didn't know, then whose bright idea was it? Some uppity/anxious/over-zealous steward? And when he found out, if he didn't know before, did ++Rowan send an apology? Or is he going to do so now that he's got the conference out of the way?

I found myself remembering "wanted" posters: have you seen this man? - posters to identify criminals. Or the kind of document provided at Customs points to prevent criminals/terrorists/drug-smugglers from entering/leaving the country. And then I looked again at a little man with a brave smile and a refusal to be beaten, and I didn't know whether to rage or weep.

Probably both.