Martyn Halsall, Communications Officer for the Blackburn Diocese, wonders if Britain can take difficult questions seriously.

The case for the prosecution was roared at me almost before I was through the door: "Do you agree with your boss, then, that all these Muslims with several wives should have everything on social security?"

Another colleague faced a similar range of inquiries from a London-based journalist: "We've got five questions about the Archbishop's speech.". He was looking for simple answers: Yes' or No'.

The Archbishop's speech', of course, was - putting it simply- the highly subtle and technical discourse by the Most Rev. Rowan Williams to an audience of academic lawyers about the elasticity of religiously conditioned law's incorporation into the English judicial system.

But within the maze of argument was another, larger issue: Is Britain any longer a place where difficult questions can be taken seriously?

Archbishop Rowan seems to face an historic problem. His background is among scholars, communities prepared to speculate to tease out boundaries and fresh possibilities.

Answers often involve a strong dose of "it all depends". Journalists seeking instant soundbites are likely to be disappointed.

Sometimes it seems the Archbishop has failed to negotiate the crevasse between the university study and the front page of The Sun, or imagined a bridge that is not actually there.

For we face a contradiction at the heart of our society; the abolition of barriers between high' and low' culture while ever-closer branding' for niche markets' is locking us into compartments.

So what do we do with 60 minutes of Rowan Williams?

Do we issue several versions of his lecture, graded for specific audiences; quarantine certain remarks against popular exposure; or advise The Sun "Don't go near this stuff- it will make your brain hurt"?

Answers produce ripples in many directions, not least for the ways we understand education and religious belief.

Education should mean being able to look at a question from several angles. It means going beyond the simple Yes and No, ticked boxes, and incessant tests.

It means allowing time for discussion, built on mutual respect.

This is not to dilute values to the point of anything goes', but to encourage in them the critical apparatus to positively question others' points of view.

Education also means valuing a wealth of ideas, well beyond national economic indicators.

People of faith, as I believe the Archbishop has shown us, should above all be willing to engage with difficult questions, for from such discussion a society can grow in its overall understanding, as well as by more contemporary indicators beloved by business leaders.

In the Christian tradition we follow a man called Jesus, who was forever questioning accepted traditions, not with a view to their anarchic abolition, but so that they could be fulfilled; so that human beings could enjoy what he called life in all its fullness'.

That meant becoming the bridge across any crevasse separating God from the people he had made.

That bridge is cross-shaped, and at Easter we celebrate it as the way to all sorts of fresh understandings, and new beginnings.