Events leading up to the recent Week of Prayer for Christian Unity were mark ed by both tetchiness and tardiness. The tetchiness was a sense of frustration at the seeming lack of movement; the tardiness more a refusal to recognise that events are sometimes leaving our church leaders outflanked.
We've become used to seeing tetchiness and tardiness in the dealings of politicians and paramili taries, or between farmers and factory processors. Ecclesiastics, somehow, have usually managed to smile at each other, even if through clenched teeth. Now tetchiness and tardiness have publicly overtaken the expressions of hope that previously marked joint services for Christian unity.
Yet is it true that nothing is really happening? Christians in the late 1960s were convinced that unity was just around the corner. It was an exciting period of getting to know one another. Dates for unity were actually proposed, first 1980, then 2000. Both have passed.
Still, major achievements have been made. Statements from the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission (ARCIC), among others, have heralded the beginnings of a new age. But in many cases the churches that so eagerly joined in the search are now finding all they can say is "Yes, but . . ."
None of us finds it easy to accept fully agreements that were reached through serious dialogue and fellowship. Mutual affection exists among us, but the consensus reached simply hasn't turned affection into unity. When it comes to the crunch point we retreat towards the easy familiar ground of our lives in division.
We've seen similar tensions in the world around us. In the European Union some treaties, such as that of Maastricht, have proved difficult to implement. In Northern Ireland the proposals of the Good Friday agreement, endorsed by the electorate, have sadly collapsed.
Ecumenically, too, we're facing a problem that has roots as deep as any that nourish entrenched republicanism or loyalism, except for one difference. It's not expediency or economics or politics that prompts the Christian commitment to unity.
Unity is an imperative that has the force of the Gospel behind it. This makes the current "disillusionment", "profound scepticism", even the "sense of resignation" all the more sad. Tetchiness and tardiness are outward signs of our fears.
Our very success in solving some ecumenical problems has actually created new ones. They can emerge when there's talk of real action. Despite various agreed statements on Christ's sacramental presence, ordination as a sacramental sign, even down to what signs and symbols themselves are, time after time topics arise again as though they'd never been dealt with.
Inevitably there are calls to go back to the drawing board. But going back to the drawing board isn't just reopening a question. As with the Good Friday peace agreement, it is questioning the very method by which the original consensus itself was reached.
There's a sense of fear - fear, no matter how large or how small our church may be - because on all sides we worry about loss of identity. The very progress we've made creates a scene that frightens many. They're saying, "Yes, but . . ." to take the pressure off them.
Hopes are dashed; some speak of an "ecumenical gloom". Yet the remarkable thing is that none of the participants in the conversations, whether of the tetchy or tardy variety, has ever given notice of abandoning the ecumenical cause. Despite all our problems there are very few cynics among ecumenists. People are looking for a common Christian faith. We know unity is never going to be easy.
One major stumbling block will inevitably be the manner of how authority is exercised in the church. This has been well exemplified by two happenings of recent weeks. Anglican lack of any central authority has permitted the Archbishops of Rwanda and of South East Asia, assisted by four other bishops, to consecrate two freelance bishops to work in the United States against the "liberal establishment" of the Episcopal Church there.
The Archbishop of Canterbury may deplore the situation but he appears quite incapable of doing anything about it other than perhaps excluding these new bishops from a future Lambeth Conference - if that is indeed a threat. This is a serious weakness in Anglican organisation that could ultimately split the entire communion.
The Roman Catholic Church, on the other hand, too often appears to exercise authority like a blunt instrument. The case of Sister Lavinia Byrne is but the most recent in a long line of committed Catholics who have been either silenced or removed from office.
Mostly they have been people who had no wish to break communion with Rome but who were equally determined that they should not be deprived of their right to think. And few could suggest that the people concerned were without "informed" consciences.
As we have seen politically in Northern Ireland tetchiness and tardiness are ultimately caused by the frustration and inability of each group to understand why others think the way they do. So, too, in the churches, unity involves taking risks, and that's something we've all been unwilling to recognise.
We have to put ourselves in trust into the hands of those with whom we propose to enter communion. Sadly, there's no marvellous blueprint as to how it should be done. It's more likely to be through acts of discovery than working to a plan. ARCIC found that they learned as they progressed and they progressed as they learned.
Rediscovering ourselves as we go along will keep before us our sense of dependency on the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
It won't mean that problems will go away. It may mean that the problems will never be allowed to dominate the enterprise.
The ecumenical movement is a mystery, not one that calls for cleverness and strategy, but one that calls for contemplation, participation and obedience. Tetchiness and tardiness can never have any part in it.
The Very Rev John Paterson is Dean of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin