We do not know anything for certain about the immediate future of the Church. If we knew, we might be astonished. In the sixth century they could never have imagined that by the eighth century, vast areas that had been the central homelands of the Church would have become part of a religion that did not then exist, Islam: what is now Turkey, the Eastern Mediterranean and North Africa.  That would be like being told today that Italy was about to become Mormon.  And in the sixteenth century Christians could never have imagined that by today most members of the Church would be non-Europeans. We have no road map for the future. We cannot open the book of Revelation and say, 'Hey, five plagues down and only two to go.' Ever since the first century there have been people claiming to do this and they have always turned out to be wrong.

The Church looks back to the Last Supper as its time of foundation. This is when Christ gave us his body and blood as the new covenant. The paradox is that the Last Supper was the moment .when the Church lost any story to tell about the future. No doubt the disciples went up to Jerusalem filled with excitement. This was going to be the end of the Romans. Jesus would blast them out of Israel. As the disciples said on the road to Emmaus, 'We had hoped that he was the one who was to redeem Israel.'  The Last Supper was the moment when the plot was lost and the future disappeared. So our foundational story, the Last Supper, tells of when there was no story to tell any more. The birth of our community happens when the community is breaking up. Our sacrament of hope tells of when there was no hope. This was exactly the moment when the disciples would have been unable to tell what was the future of the Church.

So every time we gather for the Eucharist, we remember how our Church was born at a moment when the future became opaque and unknown. Being a Christian liberates us from the necessity of a road map. By now we Christians ought to be at ease with facing an unknown future. Such crises are our specialité de la maison. The Church was born in one. They renew the Church and make it young again. Even this little crisis we are living through now promises us rejuvenation, a spiritual face-lift!

The question of the Church's future is often posed by people who think that the Church is not going where they had hoped. They believe that the hopes of the Second Vatican Council have been betrayed. When the Council ended, there was a certain euphoria. It looked as if we were on our way to a deeply renewed Church. We hoped for the rebirth of a Church that would be more open to the world, less clerical and authoritarian, that would be the pilgrim people of God. We hoped for a Church that was more humble and Christ like. And now, it is often said, the Church seems to be going back, reverting to the old authoritarian style. There are more attempts at centralised control, less openness and freedom, and more fear. And so it is this preoccupation that often drives people to ask about the future of the Church. Are our hopes going to be disappointed'?

First of all, I must admit that I share the concern, if this is indeed why the question is asked. I was based in Rome for nine years, and I was struck sometimes by an increased centralism. A month ago Cardinal Ratzinger, at the funeral of Cardinal Koenig confessed this same concern himself and wondered whether it had not gone too far. We had hoped that the local episcopal conferences would be the sources of new dynamism, but they have been downgraded. I have the impression that the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith is intervening more, with a firmer hands-on approach, though not as much as one might think from the press. Above all our hopes that the dignity and voice of women might be more recognised do not appear to have borne much fruit, though there have been a few hopeful appointments recently.

So I am concerned. Too often the Vatican tries to resolve problems by decree rather than by dialogue. Many people in the Church suffer deep disappointment and discouragement. On the other hand I think that the Church has changed dramatically in the last 40 years, and there is no possibility at all of a real return to the past. It is just unimaginable. The pre-Vatican II Church will never be recreated and it is only a very few people, usually with a false and romantic memory for that Church, who want it.

It is also the case that the Church digests change very slowly. It lurches forward three steps and then goes back one. It is absolutely normal that after the massive changes of the Council, there is now a stage of attempting to recover the past.  It is consoling to remember that 40 years after the Council of Nicaea in the fourth century, many people thought that the Council had been betrayed.  I am not a historian, but I would not be surprised if 40 years after most of the great Councils, it looked as if they had been failures. We rush forward, panic, retreat and then go forward again.

So what is likely to happen now? I have no idea but that should not worry us too much. It depends partly on the identity of the next pope. Even more, I think it depends on whether we allow these present difficulties to discourage us. If they make us introspective and too absorbed in churchy things, then renewal will be slower. If we become absorbed in church politics, who is in and who is out, anguishing about the future, then we shall trivialise the Church. But if we retain our passion for the gospel, and for the mystery of God's love, then we shall help the Church to be renewed.

What we need in the Church is more than mere tolerance of difference. We need spaces within the life of the Church where we deeply engage in seeking the truth together, especially with those with whom we disagree. We must hear their objections, enter into them, take them seriously, if we are to draw near to the truth of God, which is beyond all words.

We need to create spaces within the Church in which we have that sort of dialogue. I have attended several Synods of Bishops in Rome. I did not see much sign of real debate. Everyone arrived with their eight-minute speeches already prepared and read them out aloud. There was more discussion in the little language groups. But rather than blame the authorities, what are the places of debate that we can build in our dioceses and parishes? What can you do? Might you invite people to come and speak to you with whom you expect to disagree? Invite Opus Dei to come and give a talk!