On unity, do Episcopal bishops have a prayer?

If the Episcopal Church didn't exist, the Catholics would have to invent us. Oops, I forgot, they already did.

The Catholics must be pretty happy that Henry VIII broke with the Vatican back in 1534 and created his own Protestant church. Thank heavens we Episcopalians exist, otherwise Pope Benedict would be heading up the world's only openly dysfunctional Christian sect.

My brethren in Christ - about 650 Episcopal and Anglican bishops from all over the world - have been puttering around England for the past week or so, at the invitation of the Archbishop of Canterbury, for the faith's decennial worldwide conclave. The spectacle, known as the Lambeth Conference, named after the archbishop's palace, is an embarrassing festival of nothingness. About 250 bishops held their own, separate conclave in Jerusalem called Global Anglican Future Conference (GAFCON - like DEFCON, only religious) earlier this year to drive home the point that the church of J.P. Morgan and Desmond Tutu is in schism.

To make Lambeth a "success," Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams bravely uninvited openly gay New Hampshire Bishop Gene Robinson, who is a lightning rod for church traditionalists, many of them from Africa. Anglican conservatives don't believe in the ordination of gays, nor in gay marriage (Robinson is a partner in a civil union). They also don't approve of the elevation of women to the rank of bishop, which Williams has approved. The presiding bishop of the US Episcopal Church is Katharine Jefferts Schori, an instrument-rated pilot who speaks Spanish, and holds a PhD in oceanography as well as her divinity degree.

Unfortunately, snubbing Robinson didn't have the desired effect, as hundreds of bishops are staying away, to avoid rubbing shoulders with the men who consecrated bishops like Robinson and Schori. No delegates from Nigeria, Uganda, and Rwanda are attending. Even Michael Nazir-Ali, the bishop of Rochester, England, is boycotting the event. "Those who have gone against church teaching" - he means the Yanks - "should not attend representative Anglican gatherings," Nazir-Ali said.

Here is a link to a British Broadcasting Corporation video clip of a heckler disrupting Bishop Robinson's sermon at a southwest London church: news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/7504472.stm. It feels like centuries since I've heard the word "heretic" flung about in public. But I digress.

So what is happening at Lambeth, which started July 16 and will drag on until Aug. 3? Nothing! That's the brilliance of Rowan Williams's vision. After several days of retreats, the bishops have broken into "indaba groups" ("a Zulu word for a gathering for purposeful discussion. It is both a process and a method") to woolgather on the issues of the day. The yapfests are perfectly suited to Lambeth's core mission: make no resolutions, pass no legislation, issue no declarations. Stay off the front page.

Ten years ago, the bishops voted out a declaration that gay relationships were incompatible with Scripture. Look where that got them. This time, the bishops will merely issue a series of "reflections" when the conference ends. Presiding Bishop Schori calls this "a post-modern way of operating with each other," whatever that means.

Earlier this week, Massachusetts Bishop M. Thomas Shaw sent back an e-missive from Lambeth to his flock. Emulating St. Paul ("speaking the truth in love"), Shaw alluded to "some frustration emerging in the conference around how [the indaba groups] are very process oriented and aren't allowing for the conversations that people are really interested in to take place." He further noted that "There's been some controversy over a statement issued by bishops of Sudan and signed by Archbishop Daniel Deng Bul, calling for Gene Robinson's resignation."

"It's going to take us awhile to find our way," writes Shaw, who spent part of the following day at Buckingham Palace, bantering with Prince Philip. "It seems to me that that's what we're doing, finding our way, and for the most part, I think people are being faithful to that."

My father wasn't particularly religious and he wasn't particularly Episcopalian. (Note to my sons: Don't even think about discussing my religious beliefs in public.) He had a genial demeanor, and I remember him discussing Kit and Frederica Konolige's classic book, "The Power of Their Glory; America's Ruling Class: The Episcopalians" with me. The authors, who may have coined the term "Episcocrats," take a sardonic view of the "Tory Party at prayer," as Episcopalians are sometimes called.

But my father somehow concluded that, the criticisms notwithstanding, Episcopalians emerged from the book more or less unscathed. "[The authors] seem to think that we are good people, at heart," he said. Now I wonder if they were right.

Alex Beam is a Globe columnist. His e-dress is beam@globe.com.