In September I went to Canterbury to join a day’s rich celebration of the 800th anniversary of the walling-up of Loretta de Braose (c.1185 – c.1266) as an anchoress. It was a lovely day, especially after all the months of lockdown, and I had a great time, but it has left me (once again) worried and bothered by the sexism in our Church.

We do not have “anchoresses” nowadays: an anchoress is a kind of female solitary or hermit who lives in an “anchorhold” – a cell or chamber usually “anchored” (fixed) to the wall of a church, with a window on to the sanctuary, enabling her to see the altar, attend Mass and receive Communion. The anchoress is locked into the cell, which she never leaves, and her food and other necessities are brought to her by the local community and “posted” in through an external hatch. The most famous British anchoress is probably Julian of Norwich (c.1343 – 1416), who wrote Revelations of Divine Love, the earliest surviving book by a woman written in English, describing her mystical visions. And there were other anchoresses of whom both Loretta and her sister are examples.