The announcement of a new Archbishop of Canterbury has stirred the usual mixture of headlines, excitements and disappointments. Yet if we are honest, it is not simply the individual who matters here, but the trajectory this appointment represents. For decades, the Church of England has been moving steadily away from her orthodox and catholic identity and deeper into the arms of the spirit of the age. The new archbishop is not the cause, but the fruit, of this trajectory.

At the crux of this story is the triumph of feminism within Anglican leadership. It is impossible to understand the present without naming this clearly. Feminism in the Church has not only been about appointing women to certain offices—it has reshaped the very theology of Anglicanism. Where once vocations were discerned within the order given by Christ and His apostles, they are now treated as rights to be distributed according to the logic of equality. Where once the authority of the Church was rooted in sacrament and hierarchy, it is now justified by the language of representation and inclusion.

The sad irony is that feminism has not liberated the Church but impoverished her. The Marian model of discipleship—self-giving obedience, contemplative faith, and maternal intercession—has been overshadowed by an egalitarian model of power. Instead of honoring womanhood as a sign of holiness and glory, the Church has succumbed to redefine womanhood in terms of authority and control. The result has been demonic confusion about order, disobedience to Catholic tradition, and the slow collapse of Anglican witness in England.

And yet, God in His mercy has not left us without a remedy. For centuries, England was known as Our Lady’s Dowry, and at the heart of that devotion stood the shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham. The Mother of God appeared there not as a symbol of worldly power but as a humble sign pointing us back to the mystery of the Incarnation. Walsingham is the antidote to the Church’s present sickness, because Mary shows us the true vocation of womanhood and, indeed, of the Church herself.

Mary does not grasp at equality with God; she says, “Be it unto me according to thy word.” She does not seek authority over the Church; she prays for the Church, interceding for the disciples in the upper room until the Spirit is poured out. She does not reduce her vocation to representation, but magnifies the Lord, becoming the living Ark of the New Covenant. In her humility, she is exalted. In her obedience, she becomes Queen of Heaven. This is the model feminism cannot comprehend but the true femininity which the Catholic Church cannot live without.

To speak of Walsingham today is a prophetic witness. The restoration of Walsingham in our own time stands as a quiet rebuke to the Canterbury establishment. Where the Church has chosen innovation, Walsingham offers continuity. Where the Church has embraced ideology, Walsingham offers mystery. Where the Church has sought to redefine womanhood, Walsingham shows us the truth of it.

We must be clear: the Church of England does not need more policies, committees, or progressive slogans. She needs repentance. …

Read it all in the Way of Walsingham