Have you ever watched a movie where the bad guys win in the end? Most of us experience a sort of moral dissonance that writers use to draw us into the plot and make us emotionally invested. In a positive way, our moral formation reinforces our own good behaviour and the avoidance of social taboos. But negatively, our moral imagination can sometimes lead us to self-righteousness and a desire to punish those we perceive as wrong-doers. “Schadenfreude” is a loanword from German, literally meaning “harm-joy.” It refers to the feeling of joy, pleasure, or self-satisfaction that comes from witnessing or learning about another person’s misfortunes, failures, or suffering. Though it might seem mean-spirited, it is a very common human emotion stemming from a sense of competition and cosmic justice, but it is not a virtue.
In the past few years, I have encountered something that I call “ecumenical schadenfreude.” As other churches have struggled, I see people wishing them ill or suggesting that we might take advantage of an opportunity. It doesn’t seem like a healthy or virtuous attitude (see Proverbs 24:17-18; 1 Corinthians 13:6; Obadiah 1:12).
Let me offer an example that you might recognise. In 2025, it was announced that the Anglican Communion’s long conflict over human sexuality and the ordination of women had led to further divisions. GAFCON, the Global Anglican Futures Conference, issued a statement in response to the appointment of Archbishop of Canterbury Sarah Mullally, in which they rejected her leadership and announced that they were going to restructure the Anglican Communion without the historic role of Canterbury or the Anglican Consultative Council. The purported reasons were her support for the blessings of same-sex unions in England and their objections to the ordination of women to the episcopate. It is not my intent to speculate on the merits or potential impact of this GAFCON statement, but simply to note that it was one of the biggest religious news stories of 2025, and one which resulted in considerable response from non-Anglicans.
The ecumenical schadenfreude, which I observed, occurred when several Catholic commentators gleefully listed aspects of Anglicanism that they thought objectionable and proposed ending one of our richest and most fruitful ecumenical relationships. When Pope Leo XIV sent greetings to Mullally at the time of her installation in March 2026, some Catholics were surprised. Others were scandalised. Some have suggested that Rome should switch our ecumenical partnerships to the dissident groups or at least engage them in dialogue directly. They wanted us to take sides. Probably the most egregious response was from a Catholic who told me excitedly that he expected that “the Anglican schism is about to end, and they will all come back to Rome.”
There are so many responses that I want to make to such a naïve statement, beginning with the reminder that the Second Vatican Council has clearly stated that:
The children who are born into these Communities and who grow up believing in Christ cannot be accused of the sin involved in the separation, and the Catholic Church embraces them as brothers, with respect and affection (Decree on Ecumenism Unitatis Redintegratio #3).
Paragraph 3 of the Decree on Ecumenism offers a profound reorientation of the Church towards ecumenical engagement. It acknowledges that, in the divisions through church history, “both sides were to blame.” Those who believe in Christ and have been baptised are in a real but imperfect communion with the Catholic Church; they are “members of Christ’s body and have a right to be called Christian…”
Very many of the significant elements and endowments which together go to build up and give life to the Church itself, can exist outside the visible boundaries of the Catholic Church … The separated churches and communities … have been by no means deprived of significance and importance in the mystery of salvation. For the Spirit of Christ has not refrained from using them as a means of salvation which derive their efficacy from the very fullness of grace and truth entrusted to the Church.
Over 60 years ago, the Council officially rejected words like ‘schism’ and ‘heresy’ to refer to the churches and ecclesial communities of our present day. Language is important, and using the correct terms can ensure that we do not carry forward erroneous understandings of the history and character of other Christians whom we embrace as members of Christ’s body.
It should be understood, though, that the divisions currently developing within the Anglican Communion are schism. Schism isn’t just when others separate from Catholics; it is any breaking of communion. These new Anglican divisions are a wound within the body of Christ. It doesn’t matter who is responsible or who “started it”: schism is always a sin against the Holy Spirit, which is why it is treated so severely in church history and canon law. The sin is to place one’s own convictions before the charity that is due to others, and to lose faith in the Holy Spirit’s ability to manifest unity even within human discord. Everyone involved must continue to listen charitably to one another, to avoid condemnations, to offer grace to the other, and to always seek to reconcile.
This is why ecumenical schadenfreude is so damaging to ourselves. To celebrate or take joy in the sin of another is itself sinful. To stand on the sidelines and cheer as other Christians inflict wounds on the body of Christ is perhaps worse than being directly involved. A Catholic can certainly grieve the theological direction of another church, but when this grief turns into triumphalism, it transforms a concern for orthodoxy into the sin of pride.
As the various churches have become closer and engaged in new forms of cooperation over the past half-century, people involved in ecumenical work have discovered true friendships, such as those described by Julien Hammond in last month’s One Body. These friendships engage us all in a closer, more intimate communion. The communion wounded by human divisions is slowly being healed as the Spirit leads us towards the unity for which Christ prayed. Even those of us not directly involved in dialogue and ecumenical visits are still implicated in these relationships. By our words and actions, we can either help to heal wounds or to deepen those same wounds. As the bishops at Vatican II affirmed, “there can be no ecumenism worthy of the name without a change of heart” (Decree on Ecumenism, #7). The “soul of the ecumenical movement” is a spiritual conversion, an inner change and holiness of life oriented towards the prayer “that all may be one” (#8). Thus, Christians must first look at our own lives and faults, seeking to have an attitude of generosity towards others, “with patience, forbearing one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:1-3).
When a church divides, the entire ecumenical community is impoverished. The unique gifts that Anglicanism brings to the wider table – its liturgical beauty, its tradition of synodality, its theological poetry – are compromised by internal strife. Their loss is not a Catholic gain; it is a loss to the collective Christian witness. Secular society does not look at church conflict and think, “Ah, the Catholics were right all along.” Instead, the world looks at Christian infighting and concludes that the Gospel has no power to reconcile. Ecumenical schadenfreude ignores the reality that public Christian division discredits the proclamation of Christ to a sceptical world.
How then are we to accompany our friends in other churches as they struggle with conflict? We are neither the judge nor the jury, the prosecutor nor the defence. We are not even impartial witnesses; we are their friends and family. It is our task to accompany them in prayer and love, to offer them comfort and counsel, and to remain steady in calling them to faithful life in Christ. There is simply no place for ecumenical schadenfreude (see 1 Corinthians 12:26; Romans 12:15).
Several years ago, I was invited to speak at a clergy study day for the Saskatchewan Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada. I spoke about the ecumenical movement and explained Catholic principles and concerns. I encouraged them to engage in local dialogue, ecumenical prayer, and joint initiatives for social justice. But I ended with a challenge. I reminded them that they are the largest of the Lutheran churches in Canada, but that they have been divided from other Lutherans. Resolving these divisions is their most important ecumenical task. As an ecumenical friend of Lutherans, I encouraged them to respond to the Spirit’s prompting. And similarly, we must be open to the Spirit’s lead, calling us to address divisions in our own community (see Matthew 7:3-5; Galatians 6:1).
As I write this (in mid-June -ed.), Catholic news sources tell us that the Society of St. Pius X is planning to ordain bishops without the consent of Pope Leo, which will incur automatic excommunication latae sententiae (that is, without a formal trial or an official declaration). We must pray for cool heads to prevail to stop this, and for some means of reconciling this division within our own communion. Far be it for us to rejoice in the divisions of another church; we must also seek ways to heal divisions within our own.
Nicholas Jesson is the ecumenical officer for the Archdiocese of Regina. He is currently a member of the Anglican-Roman Catholic Dialogue in Canada and of the Canadian Council of Churches’ Commission on Faith & Witness, editor of the Margaret O’Gara Ecumenical Dialogues Collection, and editor of the Anglican-Roman Catholic Dialogue archive IARCCUM.org. He was ecumenical officer for the Diocese of Saskatoon (1994-1999 and 2008-2017), executive director of the Prairie Centre for Ecumenism (1994-1999), and member of the Roman Catholic-United Church of Canada Dialogue (2012-2020).