Christmas is a time for forgiving, and that includes the Royal family

There were two images that were everywhere over Christmas: the Archbishop of York, Stephen Cottrell, at his cathedral door, after calling for the Church of England to “kneel in penitence” for its safeguarding failures; and the Royal family at the Christmas service at Sandringham, generally with the focus on how well the Princess of Wales is looking.

The trouble is, both those stories are suggestive of how harsh and unforgiving our culture has become. The Archbishop of York has said that he is sorry he didn’t handle his own abuse scandal better when he was Bishop of Chelmsford a decade ago, a time when a predatory clergyman was twice appointed dean – though frankly, as scandals go, this one isn’t that huge. A bit like the Archbishop of Canterbury’s case then; a sin of omission.

But it hasn’t stopped the BBC, which uncovered the story, and a couple of female bishops from piling in to cast the umpteenth stone. The Bishop of Newcastle, Helen-Ann Hartley, described his contrition as “empty words”, which usefully gives the lie to the notion that female clerics are any more forgiving than men. For them, the idea of reconciliation at Christmas doesn’t cut much ice.

Then there was the – to my mind, appalling – exclusion of Prince Andrew from the Christmas service at Sandringham parish church, apparently in compliance with the wishes of the King.

Do I really need to spell out that church services at Christmas are for all comers, for the sinners as well as the righteous; that everyone has a place at his local parish church; that if only the sinless had a place at the Sandringham service, the congregation would be rather smaller than it was on Christmas Day?

The Duke of York may not be terribly bright, and he certainly has much to be forgiven for, but that’s all the more reason why he should have been at church.

If baby Jesus came to earth for sinners, as He said, attitudes towards the Church and the royals are proof that this really isn’t much of a Christian culture.

Art means the broadest definition of being Welsh

A new exhibition in Aberystwyth, arrestingly called No Welsh Art after the incendiary comment in 1950 by Llewelyn Wyn Griffith, the chairman of the Welsh committee of the Arts Council of Great Britain, gives the lie to its title. There is Welsh art, and with this exhibition there is renewed demand for a permanent National Gallery of Wales.

Of course there should be. But it should be Welsh in the widest sense. The greatest Welsh artist is arguably David Jones, whose luminous, magical watercolours are already held in Wales, as well as superb examples of his lettering. But he was London Welsh, born in Brockley to a Welsh father. The John siblings – Augustus and Gwen – were Welsh, but they got out of Wales for the Slade school of art, and Gwen’s best work was produced in Paris.

The National Gallery of Scotland has lots of works by non-Scottish artists; the Welsh equivalent should do likewise.

No to reheated roast potatoes, this year and every year

This paper has engendered one of the great Christmas controversies with the revelation that reheated roast spuds are good for you. Be that as it may, next-day roast potatoes are indescribably disgusting. Get rid of them.

Christmas pudding, now, is another story. Slices reheated with a sprinkle of caster sugar and a knob of butter are sublime.