then try to persuade.
Now it is one of the elementary rules of practical advocacy that you must forget yourself, and concentrate on what you are saying and to whom you are saying it. Of course the way you express yourself depends on whom you are talking to. That ought to be second nature. But however great an actor you are, and however much you are aware of the figure you cut, egotism has no place. Insofar as you allow it to creep in, to that extent you spoil your performance, and spoil the chances of your effectiveness. In any event the victim of guilt is not concerned with your egotism, he is obsessed with his own.
What effect does the doctrine of the apostolic succession have on this situation? It is not clear that it has any. If you have this apostolic distinction, the best thing you can do is to forget it, if you wish to help the victim. If you have not, it is a little difficult to see how your efforts to help are prejudiced. It could be argued that the fact that you are appointed a priest in the regulation way gives you the confidence to tackle a situation, which you would not otherwise have. Tackle the situation, it might be answered, and make a mess of it, unless you have some understanding of human nature as well. Viewed in this light it is rather like the degree of barrister-at law, which allows you to practice advocacy in the courts, but does not guarantee that you know a single thing about advocacy. Yet if the apostolic succession may be compared with taking one's degree, then it is only a paper qualification, and cannot for a moment be compared with the real qualification of experience.
But in the stately and dainty world of candlelight, as Francis Bacon described it, where make-belief is at a premium and truth at a discount, the function of the doctrine is obvious enough. It is a kind of magic, which is required by those who pay lip-service to penitence, before they make the further dainty step of paying lip-service to their own forgiveness. But actually if one…