Pope Leo and King Charles make history by praying side by side

King Charles and Pope Leo made history by praying side by side in the Sistine Chapel, a first for leaders of the Church of England and the Catholic Church.

Under the watchful gaze of Michelangelo’s Last Judgment, Pope Leo’s words “let us pray” meant that everyone, including the King, was closing a gap that dates back to the Reformation in the 16th century.

The ceremony, which was accompanied by music and nature-related prayers that would eliminate any theological differences, provided some calm for the King and Queen during the examinations carried out on Prince Andrew during their visit to the Vatican.

But despite the importance of the state visit, there was no escape from the media; There were questions about Andrew’s connection to sex offender Jeffrey Epstein that showed no signs of abating.

Even here, when the King met the Pope at the Vatican, he commented that the cameras were a “constant danger”.

“You get used to it,” the Pope said succinctly, himself facing a crash course in the unrelenting attention that comes with such a high-profile role, but it still seems surprising to hear a Pope speak in such relaxed American tones.

There may be discomfort in the media at such moments, but if there were no press, such state visits would not exist.

It’s all about the big images the media can capture because no members of the public are allowed past the security barriers.

It is the intrusive lenses of cameras and the hastily typed words on news sites that give shape and impact to such moments. Otherwise, they can make a state visit via Zoom.

There were many exquisitely choreographed moments during this short visit to the Vatican, a city-state whose every corner looks like a postcard, creaking under the weight of its own history and architectural splendor.

In the Sistine Chapel, Catholic and Anglican choirs literally sang from the same hymn sheet. Images of harmony and unity abounded. Churches that were once enemies were now best friends.

Surrounded by Renaissance masterpieces, this meeting was held in one of the great cradles of Western civilization. This must have been a great opportunity for King Charles, who was a lover of art, music and religion.

But there actually seemed to be a more intense moment later in the day; something that gave the King and Queen a chance to pause for further private prayer and reflection.

At the Church of St. Paul Outside the Walls, they walked a few steps towards the tomb of St. Paul, one of Jesus’ apostles. It was like delving into the roots of Christianity. They waited there for a while and some prayers were read.

After dressing in black to meet the Pope, the King and Queen changed into white and walked towards the main body of the church, where another congregation was waiting. Maybe they could spend a few more minutes in such a simple and sacred place.

But they returned to the huge and magnificently decorated basilica above. Even by the epic standards of churches in Rome, this was quite large; choruses were once again filling operatic high ceilings.

The symbolic purpose of coming here was that before the Reformation, this was a church affiliated with the English monarchy. He was connecting the historical dots.

When the day is over, the King, Queen and the Vatican will see that this visit has fulfilled its historic purpose, binding the Catholic and Anglican churches together in a knot of friendship at the top as well as at the base.

Gifts were exchanged, including an icon given to Pope Leo, reflecting the King’s admiration for the Orthodox Church and its paintings.

Knighthoods were also exchanged between King Charles and Pope Leo, but there may now be a question mark about the value of the honour.

For Buckingham Palace, this will mean the completion of the official visit, which was previously postponed due to Pope Francis’ health condition. And it would be a welcome pause in the mounting pressure for answers about Prince Andrew.

The message was about reconciliation, even if it took centuries. Peaceful moments were experienced in the Sistine Chapel with the singing of a work by British Catholic composer Thomas Tallis.

He lived in south London during some of the bitter and violent religious conflicts of the 16th century and made his music against this troubled background.

Five centuries later, his music was played for a King and a Pope who were no longer fighting but on the same side.