THE past three weeks have been momentous for the Archbishop of Canterbury. Her departure from the diocese of London, on foot, was followed eight days later by the stately enthronement in Canterbury Cathedral, a service attended by the Prince and Princess of Wales and 2000 guests from around the world, and broadcast live on the BBC (News, 25 March). The days immediately afterwards were full of meetings with visiting Primates and ecumenical visitors, and then, of course, it was straight into Holy Week and Easter.
She seems entirely unruffled. “It’s been wonderful. And actually, overwhelmingly, I have felt the support of so many people, and that is both encouraging and reassuring,” she says. “I hoped that the service would speak of God, it would speak of the Anglican Communion and the Church of England. And I think we did that. It has been such a joy to meet so many people who don’t normally go to church, but watched it, and really felt they gained something from it.”
I wonder how enjoyable such large-scale events are for someone who is well known for her down-to-earth practicality. “For me, it’s about finding where those God moments are. And, for me, there were certainly some God moments [in the enthronement]. That is something that I’ll hold on to as much as some of those God moments in morning prayer on the pilgrimage, where there was a small group gathered in a rural church.”
The idea to walk to Canterbury (News, 20 March) “just felt the natural thing to do”, she says. She felt that it was important to find a way to mark the transition from London to Canterbury. “My husband and I both walk, and it felt something quite obvious to do. I was keen, in the walking, to try and travel with God and into God, but also to encounter people,” she reflects. She happily handed over the detailed planning to others, but that meant that, as she stepped out of St Paul’s Cathedral, “I was a bit unsure about what lay ahead, and it was that sense of putting one foot in front of another.”
The pilgrimage attracted a great deal of interest from the public at large and the media. Had she expected this? “No, I didn’t. I think I did underestimate the interest in it, and I think it did capture people’s imaginations.” She had many encounters along the way, and conversations with several people who were “not really familiar with the Church”, she says. “Obviously, everybody interprets through their own eyes, but I think they saw something of somebody wanting to walk with other people and with God, and in a very practical, down-to-earth way. And I hope that it helped people make a new connection with God.”
Much has been made of the fact that Archbishop Mullally is the first woman to hold the position in 1400 years. Yet, in many ways, I suggest, having served in such a senior post as Bishop of London, she represents continuity rather than rupture. What will be distinctive about her archiepiscopate?
Sitting in the throne of St Augustine could not help but remind her that she was following in the footsteps of her 105 predecessors, she says. “Obviously, there is a continuity there. But also, in the discernment and in the [CNC] process was the recognition that I come with particular experiences, particular skills, and particular gifts. I’m great believer that God calls us to particular times and places because of the gifts that we have.”
She refers, as she often does, to her experience as a nurse: compassion and caring are woven into her, as is “sitting in places of maybe healing but not cure”. Unlike those she follows, she reminds me that she trained on a non-residential programme rather than at theological college; she has also frequently spoken of being “a comprehensive girl” ,“a poly nurse”, and dyslexic. Her experience in ministry encompasses a range of parishes, being Bishop of Crediton in a very rural diocese, and Bishop of “a very large, complex diocese” in London.
“I bring with me my experience, my gifts, and my skills, the desire to be a pastor, somebody to care, somebody who wants to speak of the Christian hope and offer hospitality, even in difference,” she says. “That’s how I’m going to inhabit the role.” Her ambition — if that is the right word — is to nurture confidence in the Church and in the gospel.
In her first presidential address to the General Synod, she said that she believed that she was called to love and serve the diocese, the Church of England, and the Anglican Communion “not through developing new programmes and initiatives” (News, 10 February). What should we expect instead?
“What I want to offer is a consistency: a calm, non-anxious leadership. I see myself as a shepherd, as somebody who supports and provides pastoral care. And obviously that, on some degree, will be an individual basis, but some of it is saying, how do I ensure that, as the Church of England, we support and pastor people? What does it look like for me to support those Primates across the Anglican Communion? How do I establish relationships with the bishops in the Church of England, and how do I care for them and support them so they can do what they’re called to?”
She refers to the work she did with the Triennium Funding Working Group (News, 9 June 2025) to try and ensure that parishes and chaplaincies were as well supported as possible. “What I hope to do is to provide a leadership that works with what we’ve got, and with clergy, and with the laity of the Church of England, to ensure that they can be the best that they can, that we do what the Church of England should be doing.”
In talking about leadership in the past, she has drawn on the image in Charles Handy’s book The Elephant and the Flea, the idea being that large organisations can be hard to move, whereas fleas can move quickly, and sometimes irritate. “I see myself more as flea, now,” she once said. Can an Archbishop of Canterbury remain agile?
She ponders this, and concludes that part of her ministry now is to give space to others to be the irritant. “The Church of England, at its best, is about enabling everybody’s ministry; so I do think that part of it is enabling people to move quickly, and for us to listen to some of those voices which are hard to hear,” she says.
“[But] sometimes you do need a bit of the elephant. We have this heritage, and you can’t deny that. Part of our responsibility is to say, ‘Well, how could we make some of our processes move slightly quicker?’”
AlamyThe Archbishop of Canterbury (centre) with the Bishop of Dover (right) and the Dean of Canterbury (left) at Canterbury Westgate Towers towards the end of the Archbishop’s 87-mile pilgrimage from London to Canterbury Cathedral
Many of those processes were firmly on Archbishop Mullally’s radar as Bishop of London, a job she describes as “a huge privilege”. Leaving has been hard: “You travel with people, through the joys as well as the difficult moments . . . leaving wasn’t straightforward or easy, and it came at a cost.”
But she feels positive about what she describes as “a new transparency” and “an enormous culture change” in her years in London. “I think we enabled churches to find a confidence in who they were,” she says. “As I was leaving, we were seeing growth in our churches — not just in those that traditionally grew, but in those that [often] haven’t seen growth. Part of that is giving confidence to the clergy and to the people; the congregations around, you know their tradition, how they do church.”
The area she feels that she might have handled differently was explaining the changes to the pastoral care of clergy. “One of the things I should have done earlier was to explain what that looked like,” she reflects. “If you move closer, I think people were concerned: was I moving closer to check up on them? Whereas, actually, no, this is my model of ministry. This is what I do: I come alongside you, to support you.”
A priority was the overhaul of safeguarding. “One of the real positive changes in London was the change around safeguarding, in terms of increased investment, the professionalism, and beginning to be more trauma-informed. Could we have moved quicker with some of that? That will always be the question I have.”
Where does she feel that the Church is now, nationally, on safeguarding, particularly given the circumstances under which her predecessor resigned?
“I think the first thing to say is that I’m still very sorry for where the Church has failed around safeguarding, and that will be a sadness that I will carry with me. But I do think that we have developed our safeguarding policies and procedures. We’re moving towards independence, where it is required, and certainly the involvement of survivors and victims of abuse has increased, and I’m very grateful for those who have chosen to be involved with us, because I recognise the cost that that brings for them.
“So there is no doubt in my mind that progress has been made. We have developed a lot of [safeguarding] people in the local parish, at the diocesan level and at the national level. But we can never be complacent. We do have more to do.”
What might she say to those volunteers in parishes — especially the elderly — who feel overwhelmed by the burden of safeguarding training?
“Pastorally, the response is first to acknowledge what they’re feeling,” she says. “What I would hope to be able to say to them is that there are ways in which they can be supported to do it . . . perhaps somebody sitting alongside them to help them with the technology.” It is also vital to have the conversation with them about why it matters, she says.
GIVEN her nursing and civil-service background, Archbishop Mullally was ideally placed to lead on the Church’s response to the pandemic. How does she feel about the decision to close churches? “The call to close churches wasn’t ours. It was the Government’s,” she says. “My belief is that churches were open [again] much more quickly than a whole series of other things in public life because we recognised what closure had meant to people, and the negative impact that had on them.”
None the less, she recognises the hurt that remains. “You will still meet churches who feel that they’re recovering from Covid. So I don’t underestimate the hurt that that caused, but it was a government decision.”
Could the Church have been more outspoken about the big questions of life and death during the pandemic? She points to the valuable work on the ground, of hospital chaplains, volunteers, and parish clergy. “While our churches remain closed, I was very aware that people were setting up creative ways of providing pastoral care. But I won’t dispute that people have a range of experiences.”
It is “always a challenge” to know how to speak out as a bishop or an archbishop, and “who captures it when you speak out”, she says. She points to her work chairing the UK Commission on Bereavement, and also her speeches in the House of Lords against the assisted-dying legislation — something that has offered “phenomenally increased” opportunities to talk publicly about death and dying.
She will continue to speak in the House of Lords on issues close to her heart — health, well-being, freedom of religion — while encouraging the other Lords Spiritual to contribute in their own areas of expertise. “It’s about shared ministry. I don’t do this alone: I do it in partnership.”
She spoke about the Middle East conflict in her installation sermon, and will continue to pray publicly for peace. “That’s really important. I’ve spoken in the last week to the Bishop in Cyprus & the Gulf, and I’m speaking to [the Archbishop in Jerusalem] later this week. I’m very much supporting them in their role, and listening and learning from them.” She has previously made visits to the Holy Land, and hopes to return, but there are no immediate plans. Decisions about her overseas visits are still unfolding.
What about her relationship with the Anglican Communion? She refers to her recent conversations with the Primates who came to her enthronement. “I’ve said quite a few times over the last week that we do this together: we’re not going to do this alone. I am often reminded of the proverb, ‘If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.’ I’m very much wanting to build that relationship.
“And, certainly, having met over 30 Primates over the last week, they are really positive about us working together.”
The dominant theme in the conversations is the value that members of the Anglican Communion place on it. “Not only is it our shared heritage, but it’s important for them today — for the Church, but also for them in the countries in which they live. Many of the countries of the Anglican Communion are places of conflict, and having the Anglican Communion alongside them in that is incredibly important. So, I look forward to building relationships with them.”
WHAT does she feel about the current rise of Christian nationalism? She responds immediately that the use of any Christian symbols to oppress or bully is wrong. But she thinks that there is a need to listen to where this narrative is coming from. “There will be different views in our congregations around some of this,” she says. “What I hope we will be able to do as a Church is to enable and support our local parishes, to provide places in which we can hear where there are concerns, but do so in a way that creates communities that are cohesive and resilient.”
Why is this narrative so potent at the moment? She hesitates. “I’m not sure that any of us have the answer to that at the moment. . . . [But] I do think there is an increase in spirituality and of asking questions and of seeking answers. Increasingly, people are asking about their identity in a world that is marked by conflict, and I do think that, as churches, we are well placed to help people to think about their identity and explore their spirituality.”
We touch on the recent news that the research behind the Quiet Revival report has been found to be flawed (News, 26 March). Does she see growth in the Church? “I see green shoots so often that it has been a sign of hope for me. And I see them right across the board, in terms of tradition. . . I see young men and women coming forward for confirmation . . . and churches who have evensong, that have seen the increase in the number of people coming.”
She observed this on her recent pilgrimage, when she visited church schools and encountered young people talking confidently about their faith and asking spiritually deep questions. “I have seen that gentle movement of people coming into churches, and we should be encouraged by that.”
AlamyThe Archbishop of Canterbury with the Prince and Princess of Wales after her enthronement
Post-pandemic recovery is patchy, “but my view is, if they’re rising from Covid, people are doing something right.” It is “wonderful everyday ministry” that makes the difference, she says.
What does she say to rural parishes struggling with ancient buildings and tiny congregations? “I am greatly thankful for their faithfulness,” she says. “I also recognise that there are those that are beginning to find a way through, and there are those that find life a struggle.”
Many of the recent diocesan bids for grant funding have involved rural growth, she says. “There are dioceses who have got strategies specifically about the rural, and that always has to be done in partnership, listening to those rural communities. I’m very thankful for those that I see in rural ministry, and also encouraged.”
Rural is different, and should be celebrated, she says . “I always feel that, you know, the small rural parish church isn’t a failed church: it’s a flourishing, small, rural church.”
The triennium funding process was based on “a lot of listening to parishes”, and she is determined that this will continue. It is important to be transparent about grant-giving and its impact, she says, and emphasises that the beneficiaries of central funding have been effusive in their thanks. “I hope that people will see that, at the end of the day, what we’re here for is to support parishes and chaplaincies so that they can do what they do best, and continue to speak of God and show God’s love.”
LISTENING was core to the Living in Love and Faith (LLF) process, which has recently ended in what many regard as failure. How does she view it? “Living in Love and Faith was always about a journey of listening, a journey of providing resources for people to use in their local churches. And my view is, that that is exactly what happened,” she says.
“I met lots of people who used the resources in their churches, where they probably would [otherwise] never have had that conversation.”
Part of listening “is always listening to General Synod as well”, however. LLF may have finished, but the process will continue through the new working groups. “I hope that we will continue to provide a space for those who disagree to be able to speak to each other. And I also hope that we will continue to do work on what it looks like, to ensure that LGBTQI+ people are welcomed into our churches.”
It is far from clear whether, when Archbishop Mullally steps down from office, same-sex couples will be able to marry in church. But she says that she is committed to enabling a culture of hospitality for people of opposing views.
ARCHBISHOP MULLALLY’s rise in the Church has been meteoric. She was the fourth woman to become a bishop in the Church of England when she was appointed Bishop of Crediton, and, less than three years later, was translated to London — third only in precedence to the sees of York and Canterbury. Her translation to Canterbury is the final smashing of the stained-glass ceiling.
But this has come at considerable cost: as the Church Times’s social-media feed reflects in microcosm, the level of misogyny directed at the Archbishop (and other women bishops) is vicious and shocking (Comment, 27 February). She found herself in tears at the General Synod last year (News 19 February 2025) over the constant microaggressions experienced by women in ministry in the Church. How does she cope?
“For me, the most important thing is to know that my identity is in God. I am a child beloved of him. My name is written in the palm of his hand.
“So there’s something about knowing that that’s where my identity is. And, of course, the only way you maintain that is by having a good prayer life, making sure you spend time in the scriptures to remain rooted in that. I also think it’s knowing that God has called me, to this role and responsibility.”
Alongside the misogyny, there has been enthusiastic welcome. “I have had so many letters of support, by far outweighing anything else,” she says. “I couldn’t avoid the fact that there was huge support for me, and right across the Anglican Communion.
“It has been wonderful that some of the letters that I’ve had have been from women who have said that my appointment is an affirmation of their ministry.”
I say that I noticed that many of the women at the enthronement were in tears. “I think a lot of people were tearful, partly because the day was a product of years,” she says. “I’m conscious that I walk in the footsteps of many of those women. I think women feel that, but I also think men feel that as well. I’ve had a lot of support from men and women.”
What more can the Church do to root out misogyny? “We need to continue to celebrate the ministry of women,” she says. “I also think we need to be clear about another narrative: there are a whole series of people that do support the ordination of women, and we ought to recognise and celebrate that.” She says that she has been struck by the number of people she met on her pilgrimage who stopped to talk and who are not churchgoers, but saw the importance of a woman taking up the post. “So let’s celebrate that. Of course, we celebrate men, too, but let’s make sure we’ve got that balance.”
We part outside the cathedral where, the following day, Maundy Thursday, Archbishop Mullally is to be washing feet — a timely reminder of the metaphor that she often uses to link her nursing career and her ministry. I mention that my late mother took great pride in her nursing, and would have been surprised and delighted to know the Archbishop’s story. Her face lights up as she asks about my mother’s career path.
I ask what else people need to know, to understand their new Archbishop. “Fundamentally, I’m a pastor, and have a pastoral heart,” she says. “I look forward to providing that role as a shepherd, and encouraging and loving people.”
