Rae Stabosz here. I wrote the review of Phil Rickman’s novel, The Cure of Souls. I wanted to respond to your concerns.

Does a book about an Anglican woman priest violate the trust of readers like yourself, who come to this site wanting critiques of Catholic-friendly fiction?

I would argue no.

Merrily Watkins is a character in the tradition of clerical sleuths. G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown is perhaps the greatest example of the genre; Ralph McInerny’s Father Dowling and Andrew Greeley’s Msgr. “Blackie” Ryan are both direct descendants of Chesterton’s compassionate but stern detective of the cloth. The tradition is top-heavy with Catholic priests and religious, but Harry Kemelman’s Rabbi David Small has represented Judaism, and before Merrily Watkins there was Thurman Warriner’s Archdeacon Toft solving crimes from within the Anglican orders.

The murder mystery, by its very nature, involves the mortal sin of murder. Clerical mysteries derive much of their attraction from the fact that issues of crime and punishment tend to deepen into theological concerns about redemption, forgiveness and transcendent justice (including damnation) when ministers of religion come on board as detectives.

Murder mysteries are a species of social communication and popular culture. The Church welcomes the involvement of Catholics in using the media of social communication to spread the gospel by means of what recent popes have called the “new evangelization.” In “Communio and Progresso” (January 29, 1971), a reflection on the Vatican II document Inter Mirifica (Decree on the Means of Social Communication, December 4, 1963) we read:

Those who would truly understand the spirit of another age have to study not only its history, but also its literature and artifacts. And this is so because, in a very precise and lucid way, the creative arts are more revealing than conceptual descriptions of the character of people, of their aspirations, emotions and thoughts.

Even when the artist takes flight from the tangible and solid world and pursues his creative fantasies, he can give priceless insight into the human condition. Stories fashioned out of imagination in which the artist creates characters that live and evolve in a world of fiction, these too communicate their special truth. Even though they are not real, they are realistic; for they are made of the very stuff of human life.

The spirit of the age in which we live is one in which the Anglican Church sees fit to ordain women priests. We can engage works of the imagination which reflect this without assenting to it, just as we can read and critique fiction that fashions characters like Sherlock Holmes without approving the use of cocaine as a recreational drug.

Also, the Church does respectfully encourage its faithful to promote inter-religious cooperation. As Pope John Paul II noted in his apostolic letter “The Rapid Development”, again reflecting on Inter Mirifica:

In the communications media the Church finds a precious aid for spreading the Gospel and religious values, for promoting dialogue, ecumenical and inter-religious cooperation, and also for defending those solid principles which are indispensable for building a society which respects the dignity of the human person and is attentive to the common good. The Church willingly employs these media to furnish information about itself and to expand the boundaries of evangelization….

Having said all this, I do take your concern to heart. If, in your eyes, a book featuring an Anglican woman priest promotes mortal sin, then I would advise you not to read it. For you it might indeed be an occasion of sin.

Best,
Rae Stabosz