NEXT Wednesday is November 11. At 11am on that day a ceremony will be

in progress about 400 yards from the Cenotaph in Whitehall. It will be

taking place in Church House, Westminster, the home of the General Synod

of the Church of England, and at 11am the synod will be in full session

debating the question of whether the Church of England should have women

priests.

In order for this to happen all three ''houses'' of the synod, which

is constructed on pseudo-parliamentary lines, will have to vote in

favour by majorities of two-thirds for the legislation. I have compared

it the getting three lemons in a row in a fruit machine. One or two

isn't enough to win the jackpot, and a single vote could decide the

issue. Recent polls indicate that a nail-biting climax is anticipated

with the situation being too close to call in the House of Clergy and

the House of Laity.

This vote is the crunch one. In previous years there have been votes

on the question of women deacons, on the principle of having woman

priests, and to give the go-ahead for legislation to be drawn up. On

every occasion there has been heated debate, with talk of schism by the

opponents if the evil day were ever to dawn of a woman presiding at the

Eucharist, and countertalk of renegade action by the proponents if they

fail to get their way.

Those of us from traditions in which women clergy are now accepted as

unremarkable listen with amazement at some of the wild-eyed paranoia

that is trotted out in the name of ''doctrine''. It must also be

offensive to those Anglicans who have become used to women priests in

their parts of worldwide Anglicana to hear pompous statements that ''it

is not possible for a woman to be a priest'' when palpably it has been,

and is.

But childish threats by the pro-women lobby that they would place an

embargo on Eucharists except at Christmas and Easter are just as worthy

of contempt. Yet they both indicate division and passion that run so

deep that one is justified in wondering whether such a thing as a broad

national church founded on consensus can be sustained in England any

more whatever the outcome of Wednesday's debate.

The argument that the C of E would forfeit its place as part of the

Catholic and Universal if it goes ahead in ordaining women seems to

suggest that there is a deep-rooted contempt for Reformed tradition and

that it is denied legitimacy. Where does that leave the ecumenical

movement? If we cannot have church unity within a denomination such as

the C of E, at what price is it to be obtained between denominations?

This debate has perhaps brought to light some unwelcome facts hitherto

downplayed by protocol and diplomacy, namely that many people refuse to

recognise as valid or legitimate the ceremonies and orders of other

parts of the Christian church. The consequences of this will hardly be a

happy one, and one of them will be to speed the process of

disestablishment of the Church of England from its constitutional

position within the United Kingdom.

There have been many factors undermining this position in recent

years, among them secularisation, decline in C of E membership and

ascendancy relative to other denominations, multiculturalism, as well as

the constitutional anomalies created by having bishops' seats in the

House of Lords and the monarch as head of the Church of England.

But if the C of E splits in twain, riven by dissent, it undermines the

position of a moderate, broadly-based institution which is promoted by

the defenders of its establishment as the conscience of the man on the

Clapham omnibus. Or, as the late Gerald Priestland once said, '''The C

of E is the perfect church for people who don't go to church''.

There is another reason why the traditional role of the C of E must be

questioned in respect of national religious festivals, and it is

underlined by the synod debate on Wednesday. At 11am on the 11th day of

the 11th month of the year the traffic in the centre of London once

stopped for two minutes while the nation remembered the war dead.

For many reasons, most of them pragmatic, the principal remembrance

celebration has been focused on the Sunday closest to that date and the

traffic no longer stops at 11am on the 11th. Personally I think this is

a pity. It says something about our modern society that it is not

capable of taking two minutes out of its frenetic cycle in order to pay

homage to people who have died in order to preserve the independence and

freedom of the nation. How busy and selfish we are if we cannot spare

that tiny interval of our time.

For the Church of England to stage its debate 400 yards from the

Cenotaph on this day at this time is the conduct of an inwardly-looking

sect rather a national church. I am sure no insult was intended but it

just shows how little we care, how little we do really remember the

important things.

It would been a symbolic gesture to have started the synod session at

11.15 on that day. It is a symbolic gesture in reverse that no

cognisance will be taken of that special time, if not as insulting as

those weasel campaigners who seek to intrude their white flowers into

the poppy parades in an attempt to introduce a pacifist agenda.

There is a time and a place for debate, and for respecting the opinion

or the ordination of others. And there is a time for keeping silence.