Illustration by Michael Rea

Brief Encounter: Justin Welby

The Archbishop of Canterbury reflects on his regrets, what he's changed his mind about and unexpected reactions to sermons
July 21, 2022

What is the first news event you can recall?

Not a news event, but I remember having tea with Winston Churchill as a child, because my mother was his secretary. He cried—I don’t know why—and because he cried, I cried and we sat and had tea.

What is the biggest problem of all?

Not seeing people—including those who are different to us, those we disagree with, and those we will never meet—as being made in the divine image of God and loving them as our neighbour.

If you could spend a day in one city or place at one moment in history, what would that be?

The Upper Room with the disciples, Jerusalem, on the day of resurrection. The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the defining historical moment on which the entire world turns. It changes everything and makes all things possible; it is the pivot that transforms despair into hope, death into eternal life and makes Jesus known as my saviour, redeemer and Lord. 

What is your favourite quotation?  

“You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name.” (John 15:16) 

I read this verse in a Bible given to me by a dear friend when I became a Christian. When I was enthroned as ­archbishop of Canterbury, I had the same page open in the illuminated Gospels that St Augustine brought with him to England.

Which of your ancestors or relatives are you most proud of? 

Either my mother, who worked for Churchill, overcame alcoholism and has always worked for prison reform; or my grandmother, who grew up in India, taught me to value other opinions, nursed in a dysentery hospital, wrote books and a million other things. 

What is the most unexpected reaction you have had to a sermon?

I once gave a sermon in which I said: “We’re all sinners. I’m a sinner exactly like everyone else here.” Someone came up to me afterwards and said, “If I’d known you were a sinner, I wouldn’t have come.”

You have written a book on reconciliation. But is it sometimes necessary, as with Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, to defeat an enemy rather than make peace with them?

We can only truly destroy our enemies by making peace with them. That doesn’t mean avoiding or ignoring evil and injustice: it means facing them head on so we can walk the long, painful and costly path of repentance and forgiveness that leads us towards reconciliation. 

The conflict in Ukraine has laid bare a prevailing human characteristic of nations and governments in times of war, which is that rhetoric, ­moral fury and the focus on costly, necessary and deadly support for Ukraine’s military desperately needs to be matched (not replaced) by tireless commitment, courage and ingenuity to pursue dialogue and opportunities for a peace which is just and lasting.

What have you changed your mind about?

That God not only exists but that he can be known and wants to be in a relationship with us; that relationship is the heart of the Christian faith. The supreme value of every human being. My ability to sing.

What would people be surprised to know about you?

I prefer visiting a local church to a grand service. I love mucking about in boats.

What is the last piece of music, play, novel or film that brought you to tears?

Joe Wright’s Churchill film, Darkest Hour. Music: Thomas Tallis, Lamentations. Novel: Elif Shafak, The Island of Missing Trees. Poem: Denise Levertov, “Agnus Dei” in the Collected Poems.

What do you most regret? 

The times I am careless about other people’s views.