We must keep telling a more hopeful story
In a meeting that would have been unthinkable for most of the past five centuries, Pope Leo XIV and Archbishop of Canterbury Sarah Mullally — the first woman to lead the Anglican Communion — gathered at the Vatican to pray and speak of shared purpose. Their encounter, sixty years after the first formal ecumenical statement between their two churches, does not dissolve the deep theological divisions over women's ordination and LGBTQ+ issues, but it affirms that dialogue itself remains a form of hope. At a moment when both leaders face fractures within their own communities and violence beyond them, they have chosen the harder, slower work of building bridges.
- Five centuries of separation between Rome and Canterbury press against every handshake and shared prayer, making even the act of meeting a historically charged gesture.
- Mullally's installation as the first female Archbishop of Canterbury has already cracked the Anglican Communion from within, with powerful African churches and conservative blocs threatening a permanent break over her leadership.
- Pope Leo XIV, himself under political fire for advocating peace with Iran, finds in Mullally an unexpected ally — two leaders navigating criticism from their own flanks while insisting on dialogue.
- Both leaders are attempting to hold fractured communities together not through doctrinal resolution, but through the symbolic power of presence, prayer, and a shared language of peace.
- The trajectory is cautious but deliberate — no breakthroughs announced, no divisions erased, yet the meeting signals that the ancient rift, while unhealed, is being actively tended rather than abandoned.
On a Monday morning in the Apostolic Palace, Pope Leo XIV and Sarah Mullally, the newly installed Archbishop of Canterbury, sat together in conversation before moving to the Urban VIII Chapel to pray — a quiet act carrying five hundred years of weight. Mullally, the first woman ever to lead the Church of England and the spiritual head of roughly 100 million Anglicans across 165 countries, had arrived in Rome on a four-day pilgrimage that included visits to the great basilicas and meetings with senior Vatican officials.
The divide between their two churches traces back to 1534 and Henry VIII's break with Rome. Formal theological dialogue only began in the 1960s, and this year marks sixty years since the first ecumenical statement between the two communions. Fundamental disagreements remain: the Church of England ordains women as priests and bishops; Rome does not. Leo acknowledged in a letter to Mullally that new disputes have been layered onto old ones, yet committed himself to deepening bonds and continuing the conversation.
Mullally's appointment has itself become a source of rupture. While Western Anglican churches celebrated her installation, the communion's largest and fastest-growing congregations — concentrated in Africa — have sharply opposed her leadership, with the conservative Gafcon network threatening a final break. Her position within her own communion is as contested as the dialogue she has come to Rome to advance.
Still, both leaders have chosen to emphasize what they share. Mullally spoke of the need to keep telling a more hopeful story in the face of violence and division. Leo, facing criticism from President Trump for his calls for peace with Iran, found in her a voice of solidarity. Theologians called the meeting historic, noting that the Vatican's refusal to recognize female priesthood makes the very fact of their prayer together a remarkable signal. No doctrinal walls came down on Monday — but the two leaders met, prayed, and spoke, suggesting the ancient divide is being tended, even if it is far from closed.
In the library of the Apostolic Palace on Monday, Pope Leo XIV and Sarah Mullally, the Archbishop of Canterbury, met for a conversation that would have seemed impossible just years ago. The two leaders then moved to the Urban VIII Chapel to pray together—a moment the Vatican described simply as prayer, but which carried the weight of five centuries of separation.
Mullally arrived at the Vatican as the first woman to lead the Church of England and the spiritual head of roughly 100 million Anglicans scattered across 165 countries. Her appointment, installed just last month, has fractured the communion she now leads. But on this Monday, she was there to thank Leo for receiving her, and to speak of shared purpose. "In the face of inhuman violence, deep division, and rapid societal change, we must keep telling a more hopeful story," she told him, invoking the infinite value of human life and the call to build bridges rather than walls.
The split between Rome and Canterbury runs back to 1534, when King Henry VIII sought an annulment the pope would not grant. For nearly five hundred years, the two churches have existed in formal separation. Formal theological dialogue began in the 1960s, but fundamental disagreements persist. The Church of England ordains women as priests and bishops; the Roman Catholic Church does not. This year marks sixty years since the first ecumenical statement between the two communions, signed in 1966 at St. Paul's Outside the Walls.
Leo acknowledged the weight of this history in a letter to Mullally before their meeting. He recognized that "new problems" have been layered onto "historically divisive issues." He noted that his predecessor, Pope Francis, and Mullally's predecessor, Archbishop Justin Welby, had acknowledged frankly that new circumstances have created new disagreements. Yet Leo committed himself to continuing the dialogue, to deepening bonds of communion, and to encouraging collaboration at every level.
Mullally's four-day pilgrimage to Rome has included visits to the major basilicas, where she prayed at the tombs of Saints Peter and Paul and met with senior Vatican officials. The visit, according to Lambeth Palace, is designed to strengthen Anglican-Roman Catholic relations through prayer, personal encounter, and formal theological work. It comes on the heels of an equally historic moment last October, when King Charles III and Queen Camilla visited the Vatican and prayed together in the Sistine Chapel—the first time since the Reformation that the heads of the two churches had prayed together.
George Gross, a theologian at King's College London, called Monday's meeting historic, particularly given that the Vatican does not recognize female priesthood. "If we were to go back several hundred years, it's unthinkable," he said. He saw the prayer as an attempt to project unity, especially in confronting global conflicts. The October visit by the king and this meeting with Mullally, he suggested, represent a "doubling down of togetherness."
Yet Mullally's appointment has exposed deep fractures within the Anglican Communion itself. Many Western churches celebrated her installation as a breakthrough. But the communion's largest and fastest-growing churches are in Africa, where conservative groups like the Global Anglican Future Conference, or Gafcon, have sharply criticized her appointment and threatened a final break from the communion. In the United States, the conservative Anglican Church in North America, which split from the more liberal Episcopal churches, has signed onto statements opposing her leadership.
Mullally has also expressed solidarity with Leo's calls for peace, after the American-born pope faced harsh criticism from President Donald Trump for advocating peace in Iran. The two leaders, it seems, are signaling that despite their churches' fundamental disagreements on priesthood and LGBTQ+ issues, they share a commitment to speaking for peace in a fractured world. What comes next remains uncertain—but the fact that they are meeting, praying, and talking suggests that the centuries-old divide, while far from healed, is no longer absolute.
Notable Quotes
In the face of inhuman violence, deep division, and rapid societal change, we must keep telling a more hopeful story: that every human life has infinite value because we are precious children of God.— Archbishop Sarah Mullally, to Pope Leo XIV
If we were to go back several hundred years, it's unthinkable. It's the fact that the pope is willing to meet, but in itself it also shows the difference, the gap.— George Gross, theologian at King's College London
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that they prayed together? They still disagree on everything fundamental.
The prayer itself is the point. For five hundred years, these two leaders would not have been in the same room. The fact that Leo is willing to kneel beside a woman he does not recognize as a legitimate priest—that's a signal that something has shifted in how the churches see each other.
But Mullally's own appointment is tearing her church apart. How does a Vatican meeting help that?
It doesn't solve the internal Anglican crisis. But it sends a message to the conservative African churches that are threatening to leave: the center of the communion is still trying to hold things together, still in dialogue with Rome. It's a show of strength through openness.
Is Leo actually changing his position on women priests?
No. He acknowledged the disagreement exists and called it a "new problem." But he committed to continuing dialogue. That's different from capitulation. It's saying: we disagree, and we're going to keep talking anyway.
What about the Trump criticism? Why mention that?
Because it shows both leaders are trying to position themselves as voices for peace in a world that's fragmenting. Leo called for peace in Iran and got attacked for it. Mullally is standing with him on that. It's a way of saying: our churches may be divided, but we're united on this.
So what happens next?
That's the question. Mullally goes back to lead a communion that's splitting. Leo goes back to a church that won't ordain women. The dialogue continues, but the real test is whether either of them can actually move their institutions, or whether this is just optics.