I WATCHED some of the opening ceremony of the Eucharistic Congress on Sunday afternoon.It was on live television — clashing with the men’s final at the French Open Tennis Championships, and the Munster Football championship match between Cork and Kerry.
I wonder how many other people watched the opening ceremony. There were certainly lots of empty seats in the crowd, despite the fact that it was a wonderful afternoon — the perfect weather for an outdoor ceremony.
I wonder how many other people watched the opening ceremony. There were certainly lots of empty seats in the crowd, despite the fact that it was a wonderful afternoon — the perfect weather for an outdoor ceremony.
And I think it would be a safe bet that the numbers there, and watching on television, were dwarfed by the tens of thousands of Irish people glued to Ireland’s opening Euro 2012 match against Croatia on Sunday night.
You can bet, too, that nobody was in tears at the end of the Eucharistic Congress opening ceremony.
Is it a metaphor for the state the Church is in? Even many of the priests attending the opening ceremony hightailed it home in time for the match.
Of course, the Eucharistic Congress will involve a full week of reflection and ceremony, culminating in a Mass in Croke Park on Sunday. Hundreds of speakers will take part, and the Congress’s dedicated website promises a momentous event. Mind you, the same website (at least at the time of writing) also says that there are tickets still available for every gathering, including a limited number still on offer (at €10 each) for the Croke Park finale.
All the indications are, though, that Ireland has other things to be doing. Ireland v Croatia will be followed by Ireland v Spain. There is every possibility, if we can pull off the miracle of beating Spain, that Ireland’s fate in Euro 2012 will be settled by the two matches that take place next Monday, when we play Italy, and Spain play Croatia. If that is the case, there will be little room in next Sunday’s media, or in the national consciousness, for whatever happens in Croke Park.
We all know now how important the last Eucharistic Congress was in Ireland, and what a different country it was then. Pope Pius XI didn’t come for the Congress, although he did broadcast a message to the enormous throng that turned up at Mass in the Phoenix Park.
Is it a metaphor for the state the Church is in? Even many of the priests attending the opening ceremony hightailed it home in time for the match.
Of course, the Eucharistic Congress will involve a full week of reflection and ceremony, culminating in a Mass in Croke Park on Sunday. Hundreds of speakers will take part, and the Congress’s dedicated website promises a momentous event. Mind you, the same website (at least at the time of writing) also says that there are tickets still available for every gathering, including a limited number still on offer (at €10 each) for the Croke Park finale.
All the indications are, though, that Ireland has other things to be doing. Ireland v Croatia will be followed by Ireland v Spain. There is every possibility, if we can pull off the miracle of beating Spain, that Ireland’s fate in Euro 2012 will be settled by the two matches that take place next Monday, when we play Italy, and Spain play Croatia. If that is the case, there will be little room in next Sunday’s media, or in the national consciousness, for whatever happens in Croke Park.
We all know now how important the last Eucharistic Congress was in Ireland, and what a different country it was then. Pope Pius XI didn’t come for the Congress, although he did broadcast a message to the enormous throng that turned up at Mass in the Phoenix Park.
He sent his legate, Cardinal Lauri.
The good cardinal arrived by ship, in Dun Laoghaire Harbour, and tens of thousands lined the streets to watch his triumphant procession into the city.
A million more attended the Mass.
It was some occasion.
It was some occasion.
According to UCC’s Multitext Project in Irish History, Cardinal Lauri "rode between two rows of young school children — 36,000 in all — through almost nine miles of decorated crowded streets. Dublin had not witnessed such scenes since the funeral of Michael Collins in August 1922… The Papal Legate thrilled the assorted dignitaries and vast crowds who waited on his every word and deed when he announced that he had brought a special message from Pope Pius XI himself, addressed to the Irish people. Cardinal Lauri assured his audience that the Holy Father had charged him to: ‘go to Ireland in my name and say to the good people assembled there that the Holy Father loves Ireland and sends to Ireland and its inhibitors and visitors not the usual Apostolic blessing but a very special all embracing one’."
Of course, there are endless ironies in that description. Without a doubt, though, that Congress displayed the absolute height of Catholic Church power in Ireland, in every sense of that term. Even at the time of the only Papal visit to Ireland, by John Paul II in 1979, cracks were already beginning to appear.
How many now remember with cynicism and even bitterness the two cheerleaders who whipped up the crowd when the Pope said: "Young people of Ireland, I love you."
Of course, there are endless ironies in that description. Without a doubt, though, that Congress displayed the absolute height of Catholic Church power in Ireland, in every sense of that term. Even at the time of the only Papal visit to Ireland, by John Paul II in 1979, cracks were already beginning to appear.
How many now remember with cynicism and even bitterness the two cheerleaders who whipped up the crowd when the Pope said: "Young people of Ireland, I love you."
Bishop Eamon Casey and his close friend Fr Michael Cleary led the Church’s campaigns against many reforms of the civil law in Ireland, including in relation to contraception and divorce, but were both revealed as utter hypocrites in the conduct of their own lives.
Their disgrace was the first of many self-inflicted wounds that have reduced the Church in Ireland from an institution that could command millions to a spent force that cannot compete with the attractions of Robby Keane and Shay Given.
It may well be, in fact, that this week will come to be seen as the Catholic Church’s swansong in Ireland. In all sorts of ways, that will be a tragedy.
It will leave a people of faith without an institution to respect. It will leave a people in need of values without easy recourse. It will leave many thousands of people in Ireland, especially of my generation, utterly bereft. It will undermine the hugely valuable contribution made to Ireland by thousands of priests, nuns, and brothers over many generations.
There are those who believe that all this has happened because of media hostility to the Church, or as a result of some form of liberal agenda. History will, I believe, take a different view. The Church, if it is to be weakened to the point of irrelevance in Ireland, has no-one to blame but itself.
The throngs of schoolchildren who lined Cardinal Lauri’s route in 1932 almost certainly would have included some who had suffered much at the hands of the Church. Had anyone spoken up for them then, they would have been silenced and ostracised.
Their disgrace was the first of many self-inflicted wounds that have reduced the Church in Ireland from an institution that could command millions to a spent force that cannot compete with the attractions of Robby Keane and Shay Given.
It may well be, in fact, that this week will come to be seen as the Catholic Church’s swansong in Ireland. In all sorts of ways, that will be a tragedy.
It will leave a people of faith without an institution to respect. It will leave a people in need of values without easy recourse. It will leave many thousands of people in Ireland, especially of my generation, utterly bereft. It will undermine the hugely valuable contribution made to Ireland by thousands of priests, nuns, and brothers over many generations.
There are those who believe that all this has happened because of media hostility to the Church, or as a result of some form of liberal agenda. History will, I believe, take a different view. The Church, if it is to be weakened to the point of irrelevance in Ireland, has no-one to blame but itself.
The throngs of schoolchildren who lined Cardinal Lauri’s route in 1932 almost certainly would have included some who had suffered much at the hands of the Church. Had anyone spoken up for them then, they would have been silenced and ostracised.
Throughout that entire period, while the Church’s power was at its height, the Church’s secret shame was hidden. And when, ultimately it was exposed, the Church fought tooth and nail to continue the cover-up. It was, as Archbishop Martin said on Sunday, a travesty of what the true message of the Church should have been.
THE Church has never had a monopoly of hypocrisy — Mick Wallace is only the latest example of a public figure in Ireland who preaches one thing and practices another. And if it is truly the case, as Archbishop Martin has said, that the Church is on a journey of renewal, then that is surely to be welcomed.
But I can’t help wondering how many more priests will be silenced before the renewal is complete.
THE Church has never had a monopoly of hypocrisy — Mick Wallace is only the latest example of a public figure in Ireland who preaches one thing and practices another. And if it is truly the case, as Archbishop Martin has said, that the Church is on a journey of renewal, then that is surely to be welcomed.
But I can’t help wondering how many more priests will be silenced before the renewal is complete.
I knew one of them, Fr Sean Fagan, and I sincerely doubt if there is anyone alive in Ireland today who more passionately wants to see the renewal of his Church.
For that crime, he has been censored into oblivion.
Not only is it cruel, it’s utterly senseless.
The Church in Ireland seems to want to change the way it is seen by the people who used to follow. That’s the last thing that ought to matter.
The Church in Ireland seems to want to change the way it is seen by the people who used to follow. That’s the last thing that ought to matter.
The Church must change the way it behaves, and the way it is. The only path to renewal is through original values and through a willingness to listen to criticism.
No amount of language about humility and sorrow can mask a failure to embrace fundamental change.
And if the Church can’t face that, then its future is certain.
It may not happen overnight, but the Church that informed and shaped all our past will eventually have no place in our future.