In 1963 when I was at Sydney University I
travelled daily on the Hunters Hill ferry, on which I first met a Roman
Catholic, Michelle. She invited me to a home meeting where a priest was introducing the 'Ecumenical Council' meeting in Rome.
I was impressed that the priest was happy to respond to questions, and keen for these young adults to explore their faith. It was my introduction to Vatican II, which was to play a significant part in my life.
My only previous contact with Catholics was avoiding the local Catholic school when walking home, for fear of having stones thrown at me, in my state primary school uniform — sadly, some state schoolers did likewise to Catholic students.
I remember it as a parable of pre-Vatican II Catholic-Protestant relationships in Australia.
By 1966 Australian Anglicans were exploring liturgical revision. I have vivid memories of four stimulating lectures given by (later Archbishop) Donald Robinson on this to the Sydney University Anglican Society.
Yet it was years before I realised the debt owed to the scholars behind Vatican II: the Anglican world of Cranmer, Restoration, Wesley, the Anglo-catholic revival and fights over ritualism dominated the revision agenda. I studied Latin at uni — which later proved to be a great investment — but Roman Catholicism was a parallel universe.
The late 1960s saw me in Canberra, living in a public servant's hostel. A good number of Catholic residents went to Mass early on Sundays so as to have the day free.
My pattern was to attend 8am Holy Communion at St John's, return for breakfast, then head back to help with Sunday School.
I will never forget coming back to one incredibly noisy Sunday morning breakfast at which most Mass attendees were very angry — 'I never realised it was about God' sums up the general viewpoint. This was the first time these young blokes had experienced the Mass in English. A fortnight later only three were going — Legion of Mary members, whom I got to know as fellow believers.
Having a keen interest in liturgical revision, as a theological student I soon found Dom Gregory Dix, and then the documents of Vatican II, a revelation. I was especially impressed with the 'application' work of Anneliese Reinhardt and Greg Manley, whose The Art of Praying Liturgy became a text for my students.
I see three particular fruits of the Second Vatican Council as significant for Anglicans, and other non-Roman Christian traditions.
First was putting the liturgy into the vernacular: the Mass was no longer a mystery, but something all could understand. ICET's Prayers we have in Common emerged in 1970, and many saw that we were closer theologically than previously realised.
One unhappy consequence was growing misunderstanding of 'hospitality': few non-RCs would want to receive communion at a Latin Mass (and only a small proportion of Catholics then did so regularly).
Common language, and reception becoming normal across most Christian traditions, saw hospitality become a possibility — and a barrier.
A second gift is the Three-Year Lectionary, which Australian Anglicans welcomed in An Australian Prayer Book (1977). Vatican II drew Protestants back to reading the Bible shaped by the Gospel. Knowing that congregations across the nation are reading the same scriptures has led to huge shifts in ecumenical openness.
And thirdly, Vatican II opened up ecumenical (and inter-faith) relationships, in particular the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission (ARCIC), which I am privileged to be part of (this is where the Latin comes in handy!). Its Agreed Statements have encouraged Anglicans and RCs to be open to one another at local level.
For myself, I have deeply appreciated two features of the theological work of my Catholic colleagues on the Commission: the utter priority of grace, and their fresh reading of the scriptures.
What then are my hopes?
Above all, that both the Holy See and the Anglican Communion would act on the work ARCIC has done — thus far, a very slow process. If we could do so, the divisions between our Communions would soon disappear.
More particularly, I look for a radical reappraisal of the Curia, whose dominance in our global marketplace culture is now a theological issue.
But this also demands greater Anglican willingness better to balance the universal and local dimensions of Christian identity.
Further, I look to see the office of the Bishop of Rome reformed in such a way that all who own the name of Christ can receive this personal embodiment of our unity as 'Mr Christian' — and for Rome to be open to this global ministry being filled by a 'Mrs Christian'.