CRANMER’S HANDSHAKE And The Gay ‘Apology’ of His Grace Rowen

Archbishops of Canterbury have a knack for getting with the program of history just as history has moved on, as in the case of the quadruple-crosser Thomas Cranmer (Canterbury 1533-1556). On the stake, thoughtfully provided him by ‘Bloody Queen Mary,’ extending his ‘offending’ and doubtless shaking hand into the flame, Cranmer sought to martyr himself into history as a good Protestant, rather than the duplicitous careerist of any faith he had always been. It has to be said, as it so often must be where bishops are concerned, with friends like Cranmer, who the fuck needs enemies?

And so we come to the present ABC, appointed by exposed war criminal and finally ‘out’ Roman Catholic Tony Blair, Rowen ‘Sasquatch’ Williams and his recent “apology” to gay and lesbian Christians. For what? Rowen hasn’t exactly said, but among the possibilities would be his decade-plus of personal denunciations, witch hunts and nefarious back-channel and open global plots against queers in ‘his’ church and our world.

What’s the Latin for Too Little Too Late? Parum Quoque Tardus? The ABC is PQT, and as ever talking out of at least two sides of his whiskers, begging his gay-burning African co-religionists to make room in their hearts for difference while proposing a separate and unequal ghetto for The Episcopal Church, the American member of the Anglican Communion that has itself belatedly embraced LGBT inclusion.

This much: PM very-soon-to-be David Cameron will sack Rowen. Lilibet II will rubber stamp it with the tip her of Lucite cane and then, maybe Rowen can take his Hitler-youth friend Benedict XVI up on his offer of shelter from the storm of actual modern life. Then of course, the Tories will give England a proper ABC, banishing all hope of any woman or queer who enters there. And so, since only women and queers want to have anything to do with the Church of England, the candles may be gathered up and the wormy oak doors shut. The medieval churches can go back to being the barns they were before they were stolen from, among others, ignorant Welsh drovers, no doubt Rowen’s progenitors. All’s well that ends in the manger.

And if ever you should meet Rowen Williams on the path and he extends his hirsute palm, the recommended response is, “Keep it to yourself, bitch.” Then go right on walking your queer ass toward Jerusalem.