Irish Catholicism: what will it become?

Young People of Ireland, I love you" must surely be one of the most memorable phrases uttered in recent Irish history. Pope John Paul II spoke these words during the youth Mass he celebrated in Galway in 1979. Last September, the twenty-fifth anniversary of the pope's visit, was commemorated with a series of Masses and other events across Ireland. Having been one of the young people at the papal liturgy in 1979, I was pleased to attend one of these Masses in my home diocese of Meath.

For the Irish, the pope's visit was iconic for several reasons. At the time, it was widely regarded as a huge success; the enormous crowds that enthusiastically turned out for the papal Masses testified to the enduring, cross-generational piety of the Irish. Modern city living and even the everyday specter of long-term unemployment had not eroded the nation's Catholic identity. The papal visit also provided the Irish with ample evidence that they could be full players in the modern world rather than victims of history, the motif that had defined so much of the Irish story. The logistical feat of managing the visit--a huge achievement for such a small and (then) relatively poor country--gave confidence to Irish politicians and people alike that they had the resources to build a better future. One could argue that the sense of self-reliance engendered by the pope's visit helped fuel the emergence of the Celtic Tiger in the 1990s.

Ireland has experienced enormous economic and social change in the last quarter century. Today it is one of the richest countries in Europe; evidence of its wealth is easily seen across the country, from local construction sprawl to the real estate sections of the newspapers to the cosmopolitan buzz of bustling restaurants and pubs. Socially, the biggest changes since the pope's visit are in Irish attitudes toward sex and marriage. The pope once commended the Irish for their commitment to marriage and the family, yet divorce and remarriage are now legal and, more important, accepted, even in the most devout families. Artificial contraception is also readily available. (With one in three births taking place outside of marriage, however, many wonder how widely birth control is used.) Abortion is legal if the pregnancy endangers the life of the mother, and a government committee is currently reviewing whether the Irish Constitution should be amended to allow gay marriage.

All of these developments seem to suggest that the church has lost its hold on the Irish people. Nonetheless, many people continue to attend Mass regularly. Although national surveys indicate a decline in weekly Mass attendance from the highs of the 1970s, substantial numbers (approximately two in three) still go to Mass every week. Still, the liturgy is no longer the prime source of spiritual sustenance for many; the popularity of solstice celebrations and New Age stores points to a growing interest in alternative spirituality.

Where are the bishops and priests in all of this? The clergy are no longer visible on the street or at Gaelic football games, nor are they spending much time in homes and classrooms. This may be a result of the shortage and aging of priests, a serious problem in Ireland as in the United States. Priests may also be bewildered by the socio-economic and cultural changes surrounding them--it's sign of changed times that during the recent diocesan Mass I attended, cell phones rang a few times. Maybe, too, priests are ashamed of the scandals that have plagued the church in recent years: the sexual molestation of children; the sexual harassment of seminarians at St. Patrick's College, Maynooth, the bedrock of Irish priestly culture; and the sexual affairs of high-profile priests such as Eamonn Casey, the charismatic bishop of Galway who hosted the pope back in 1979.

But if the clergy are less visible than they used to be, they also seem to be more humble and self-critical. This is not evident yet in the pulpit--I haven't heard any sermons make reference to the internal strife caused by the scandals. But, in an acknowledgement that would have previously been unimaginable, the archbishop of Dublin, Diarmuid Martin, recently told the National Priests' Conference that "priests can be extremely authoritarian, arrogant, and self-minded," and he urged them to foster a "humble, listening church" at the parish level and above (Irish Times, September 29, 2004). Equally surprising, Catholic clergy have been seeking advice from Presbyterian pastors on strategies for evangelization and church growth. This indicates that the church recognizes that it can no longer take its "base" for granted.

The church may still be able to reclaim a prominent place in Irish life if it becomes a "humble, listening church." For example, the bishops could begin to address both the priest shortage and the need to re-energize the laity by endorsing local lay-led initiatives. There is quite a lot of lay pastoral and theological competence in Ireland: high-school religion classes are taught by specially trained teachers, and adult education courses in theology and spirituality have long been popular. Church leaders need to take advantage of this expertise, especially in the area of the liturgy, where canned music is the norm and priests often perform most of the functions of the Mass. The laity should be encouraged to serve as lectors or members of the choir. This would help affirm the Mass as a sacred and joyous communal event, rather than simply an obligation. And in the long term, an increased role for the laity in the liturgy would pave the way for lay pastoral administrators, a group whose role will have to expand as large numbers of priests retire.

The bishops should also have a voice in Irish affairs. That voice will have to be different from the arrogant one heard during the abortion and divorce debates of the 1980s. The bishops should begin to think of themselves not as the moral voice in Ireland, but as one among many important reflective voices. For the past few decades, a unique "social partnership" of government and employer federations, trade unions, and professional associations has helped to shape Irish economic and social policy. The bishops (and representatives from other churches) should be included in these discussions. With Ireland's newfound wealth, the church's voice is needed more than ever, to speak for the poor and warn against the dangers of materialistic excess. The Irish church may never be able to reclaim the place it held in society when the pope visited in 1979, but there is no reason why it cannot play a vital role in the lives of Irish citizens.

Michele Dillon, a sociologist at the University of New Hampshire, is the author of Debating Divorce: Moral Conflict in Ireland (Kentucky, 1993) and Catholic Identity: Balancing Reason, Faith and Power (Cambridge, 1999)