The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Most Revd Dame Sarah Mullally, preached the following homily during Evensong at St Paul’s Within the Walls this evening, on the second day of her pilgrimage to Rome.

Tomorrow, the Archbishop will meet and pray with His Holiness Pope Leo XIV at the Apostolic Palace in Vatican City.

Prior to the service this evening, the Archbishop visited and prayed at the Papal Basilica and Cathedral of St John Lateran, and the Papal Basilica of St Mary Major, where she prayed at the tomb of Pope Francis.

This morning, Archbishop Sarah presided at Sung Eucharist, which included a Baptism, at All Saints’ Anglican Church – the Church of England’s chaplaincy, which has worshipped at Via del Babuino since 1887.

St Paul’s Within the Walls forms part of the Convocation of Episcopal (Anglican) Churches in Europe. It was built in 1873 and was the first non-Roman Catholic church within the city walls.

Read the text of the homily in full: 

“Love righteousness, you rulers of the earth… think of the Lord in goodness.”
(Wisdom 1)

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.”
(Matthew 7)

May I speak in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Dear friends, colleagues, brothers and sisters in Christ,

It is a profound joy to be with you this evening at St Paul’s Within the Walls, especially as you mark the 150th anniversary of the consecration of this remarkable church.

This place itself is a sermon.

As the first non-Roman Catholic church built within the walls of Rome since the Reformation – and indeed the first to be completed – it stands as a quiet yet powerful sign of Christian presence, witness, and hope. Hope that division is not the final word. Hope that the Church, though wounded, is not beyond healing.

And more than that: it is a place that calls us to renewed confidence in the Gospel itself – that this Gospel remains good news, not only for a past age, but for our world today.

The very history of this church speaks of courage, vision, and faithfulness in a particular moment of opening and possibility. And it continues to bear that witness today.

It is therefore deeply fitting that the very doors of this church speak of Christian unity. The bronze Doors of Christian Unity, designed by Dimitri Hadzi in 1966, commemorate the historic encounter between Pope John XXIII and Archbishop Geoffrey Fisher in 1960. That meeting marked a watershed moment in ecumenical relations. This relationship was deepened in 1966 by the encounter between Pope Paul VI and Archbishop Michael Ramsey, which helped give rise to the modern ecumenical dialogue.

These doors are more than artistic features; they are a theological statement. They remind us that unity is not merely an idea, but a calling: a calling to reconciliation, to deeper communion, and to a shared life in Christ that reaches beyond our divisions.

Significantly, the first arch depicts the Annunciation – the archangel Gabriel greeting the Virgin Mary. It is no small detail that my own installation as Archbishop of Canterbury took place on 25 March, the Feast of the Annunciation.

For here we see the beginning of God’s great work of reconciliation: Mary’s “yes” to God – her openness to the Word made flesh. Unity, too, begins in such moments of faithful response, when we, like Mary, say “yes” to God’s will, even when the full picture is not yet clear.

The readings this evening press that calling further.

The Book of Wisdom reminds us that “God did not make death… but created all things so that they might exist.” God’s desire is life – life in its fullness, life shared, life given.

And yet, we look at our world today, and often we see something very different: instead of making justice and peace a priority, we see terrible violence inflicted on innocent people in conflicts across the globe. 

In such a world, the Church cannot lose confidence in the Gospel. For the Gospel is precisely this: that life, not death, has the final word; that Christ has broken the power of violence, not by greater force, but by self-giving love.

And that Gospel must be made visible.

“Beware of false prophets… you will know them by their fruits.”

The test is not appearance, nor even words, but fruit. Do our lives, our churches, our relationships bear the fruit of God’s Kingdom – peace, justice, love, humility, and unity? Or do they mirror the divisions of the world around us?

In our increasingly polarised world, the Church is called to be something different: to be a place of encounter and dialogue across difference. A place where we do not begin with suspicion, but with a deeper truth – that every person is created in the image and likeness of God.

To recognise that image in the other, especially when it is difficult to do so, is at the very heart of Christian hospitality.

And this hospitality is not optional. It is part of our witness.

For in a world that is unstable and often uncertain, the Church must offer that which is timeless and unchanging: the message of peace, justice, love, and hope that is grounded in Jesus Christ.

And then comes the image that closes the Sermon on the Mount: the house built on rock.

In a city like Rome, where stone speaks of centuries and foundations endure through time, this image takes on particular force. What we build matters. But even more, what we build upon matters.

A Church, a community, a life – built on Christ, grounded in his word and shaped by his love – will endure. Not because it is strong in itself, but because it is founded on the one who is faithful.

St Paul’s Within the Walls is such a place.

Not only because of its history, but because of what it continues to be: a place of encounter, of dialogue, of prayer, and of service here in this city.

Here in Rome – a city that holds within it both the pain of division and the promise of unity – you are entrusted with a particular responsibility: a responsibility for Christian unity, not only within our own Communion, but reaching beyond it.

This calling is lived out not only in formal theological dialogues – important as the work of ARCIC and IARCCUM undoubtedly is – but also in the relationships forged on the ground: among those who live, worship, and serve here in Rome; among those who meet, listen, and walk together day by day.

Unity is not only negotiated; it is embodied.

And that vocation extends beyond the Church to the world.

For a Church built on the rock of Christ will bear fruit not only in its internal life, but in its outward service and acts of love:

In care for the marginalised.
In welcome to the stranger.
In accompaniment of refugees and those who find themselves displaced, unseen, or unheard.

The ministry of the Joel Nafuma Refugee Center stands as a powerful expression of that calling: a sign of the Gospel lived out in concrete acts of compassion and solidarity.

And in the years to come, this witness will become ever more urgent.

For we will be called – perhaps more than ever – to defend and to speak up for the dignity and worth of every human being. To articulate anew, in this age, what it truly means to be human: created in the image of God, called into communion, and destined for participation in the life of the Triune God.

So this evening, as we give thanks for 150 years of faithful witness, we also look forward with hope.

Not a vague or sentimental hope, but a hope grounded in Christ – crucified and risen.

The question is not only what has been built here – but what will be built, together as the Church, the ek-klesia – those who have heard and answered the call in obedience to follow Christ, into his death and beyond, towards eternal life, towards the heavenly banquet.

Will we be a people who hear the words of Christ and act on them?
Will we be a Church that offers hospitality in a fractured world?
Will we bear the fruit of the Gospel with confidence and courage?
Will we build, together, on the rock that is Christ?

For God is the God of life, and wherever his life takes root, new life begins to flourish.

May this church continue to be such a place:
a place of encounter,
a place of hospitality,
a place of unity,
a place of hope,
a place where the Gospel is not only proclaimed, but lived.

And now, may the God of peace, who has broken down every dividing wall, unite us in one body through the cross of Christ;
may he fill our hearts with his love, and our lives with the fruits of his Spirit;
and may the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
be among you and remain with you always. Amen.