Mr Gormley reprimanded Bishop Christy Jones of Elgin -- an ecclesiastical spokesman on family matters -- for his opposition to the same-sex clause in the legislation. Gormley opined that we had "left the era of church interference behind us".
However, a bishop is as entitled to articulate an opinion as anyone else. It would be a poor democracy indeed -- it would be an authoritarian state, like East Germany -- if a Christian bishop were prevented from preaching the Gospel as he saw fit.
Moreover, bishops also have constituencies and if you want to check that out, just turn up at Sunday Mass -- or, more especially, a funeral -- in any part of rural Ireland.
Actually, politicians generally so well recognise the constituencies of bishops that they even collect money for their political parties at the gates of these locations of Sunday worship.
Mr Gormley's attempt to silence the bishop is not without precedent. The most notorious case occurred in 1941 when Bishop Morrisroe of Achonry preached a Lenten pastoral against the European dictatorships, especially underlining the agony of Poland, carved up between Hitler and Stalin.
The Irish newspapers were forbidden to report his sermon and he received a stinging rebuke from Frank Aitken, the politician in charge of wartime censorship. He was told to shut up and quit interfering.
In a free society, let us repeat, a bishop is entitled to voice his views on matters which may well have a moral dimension. And anyone is entitled to agree or disagree.
As it happens, I disagree with Bishop Jones on this point, as a civil issue.
The legalisation of civil unions between same-sex couples seems to me a sensible step, because it enhances the law of contract and the protection of property.
Civil unions are not the same as marriage and certainly, for most Christians, would not be equated with the marriage sacrament (which, as the Anglican Book of Common Prayer puts it, "is between one man and one woman, first, for the procreation of children").
However, as a civil, secular law, it is a stabilising and progressive measure, because it promotes commitment and contract.
The more fundamental critique of the upcoming legislation -- which will pass into law before the end of the current Oireachtas session -- is that it will, to some degree, equalise cohabitation with marriage.
This is surely a destabilising influence, because it weakens the law of contract and commitment.
For people of faith, marriage is a sacrament: but, for everyone, religious or secular, marriage is a legally binding commitment. Some who object to wedlock say it is "just a piece of paper". Yes, that's what a contract is -- just a piece of paper.
When you rent a property, you sign a tenancy agreement -- it's just a piece of paper, but it gives you legal and contractual security to the roof over your head.
The same concept of legal contract applies to whole spheres of social and civil activity and contributes to stability and trust in any society.
Ninety per cent of the historical documents about marriage are about property and contract.
Civil marriage is built on property and contract. What, by contrast, is cohabitation built on? A casual decision to "shack up" together? Drifting into a relationship without being quite sure whether you are committed or not? Saving up to make a commitment one day? There may be a number of complex reasons but the one missing ingredient is the contractual commitment.
There are certain safeguards intended to be built into the recognition of cohabitation and the legislation itself is being undertaken with many good intentions to help those who are 'financially vulnerable' when cohabitation breaks down. And there are certainly cases of hardship.
But cohabitation embraces such a wide agenda of human relationships that it is much more difficult to define.
Anything that is difficult to define is more likely to be a cause for disagreement and litigation. I predict many legal wrangles over property and estates in the wake of this well-meaning but vaguely based, concept.
It's already happening in Britain, where ex-cohabitees frequently make claims on a former partner's estate, sometimes leading to real injustice. Just last month, a man in Essex, Leonard Kernott, successfully sued his ex-cohabitee for half the value of her home, worth £245,000 (€293,000).
He had left his partner, Patricia Jones, back in 1993 and had made virtually no contribution to the home or the two children the couple had together.
Yet the Court of Appeal ruled that because Mr Kernott had once been a cohabitee of Ms Jones, she must now sell her home and give him half.
Yet there are always unintended outcomes of any law. It could turn out that this measure will make young people much more wary of cohabitation. Any woman of means will realise that she could be taken to the cleaners by a boyfriend she had lived with (and vice versa).
Thus, paradoxically, it might influence couples to take a more serious attitude to marriage or a more circumspect approach to their own living arrangements, which may in the end gratify the bishops' family committee -- if Mr Gormley permits the bishops to entertain such sentiments.
SIC: II