The Pope is reported to have come round after his recent tracheotomy in good spirits, to have eaten well, slept soundly, and then pronounced himself “serene”. From Bethlehem to Mexico City, prayers for his wellbeing seem to have been answered. As he recovers, British constitutional and religious experts continue to debate where the Prince of Wales and Camilla Parker Bowles should marry and what significance to attribute to their blessing in St George’s Chapel, Windsor. And the Church of England of which the Prince will, in principle, one day be supreme governor put a brave face on the rift over homosexual clergy that is the stuff of schism.

All three developments are in a broad sense positive. They reflect the enduring importance in the lives of countless millions not simply of religious belief but, more specifially, of those individuals chosen to embody the Christian faith and the laws framed to give it earthly meaning. Yet the response of the Catholic Church to the Pope’s failing health should serve as a quiet lesson to the Anglican Communion as it agonises over internal disagreements, be they profound (as in this week ’s meeting of bishops in Dromantine) or essentially trivial (as in the case of Windsor Guildhall v Windsor Castle).

Whether in fact the pontiff owes his serenity to his doctors or the prayers of the world’s one billion Catholics is hardly the issue. What his difficult week demonstrates is that such widespread belief in the power of prayer amounts to a sort of power in itself; in this case, of religion’s ability to bridge oceans and connect cultures with simple, heartfelt unanimity.

It is not The Times’s place to ventriloquise for the Almighty, but neither can it be out of place to suppose that, surveying the variegated map of beliefs, He would note all sides of every doctrinal dispute with interest and due respect — and then side with the peacemakers. In faith as in ideology, open schism is notoriously hard to heal because opposing sides are inclined to exaggerate their differences. A non-negotiable commitment to unity, by contrast, forces those with clashing views to reconcile them or find ways to co-exist. As St Anselm taught in the 11th century, the starting point for spirituality should be faith, and the goal understanding.

Were God to focus on the question of elevating homosexuals to the Anglican episcopate, He would, presumably, distinguish at once between disagreement based on genuine respect for Scripture, and the contortion of Scripture in order to camouflage mere prejudice. There seems little doubt, however, that the Episcopal Church (USA) and the Anglican Church in Canada have undervalued unity in their precipitate and unilateral moves in favour of same-sex unions and gay bishops. Neither development is necessarily incompatible with Anglican harmony in the long term, but in the short term the suspension of both churches from the Anglican Consultative Council is wise. Time has been bought, and, God willing, sanity and sanctity will prevail.