“A great struggle… has been fought. And… we have lost.”– Archbishop Michael Neary, November 9, 2014
Archbishop Neary, whether he intended to or not, offered a deeply cathartic moment to Irish Catholics during his recent homily at the Mass for the Papal orders in Dublin. Sombre though his message may have been, this was something we needed to hear.
Catharsis typically involves some form of psychological relief. And in this instance, the relief comes from hearing a leader say what many have felt for some time: Catholicism – the creed which has shaped our lives – has lost its ability to shape Irish culture… and, for many, has lost its power to move Irish hearts.
We don’t need sophisticated sociological research to demonstrate this. We need only look at our own children, grandchildren, nephews, nieces, neighbours, brothers and sisters. They lead good lives and seem to be getting along just fine without any reference to God or Church.
To my mind, Archbishop Neary’s remarks neatly bookend Michael Paul Gallagher’s prescient 1974 warning that the Church in Ireland, even then, was standing precariously on very shaky legs. Forty years later, we’re on our knees.
Some might say it’s a statement of the blindingly obvious. But we needed to hear it because people have a tremendous capacity for self-delusion.
Challenges
I’ve been struck by the number of times I’ve heard church-goers casually dismiss the current challenges with the glib and groundless expectation that “it’ll all come round again”. Archbishop Neary highlighted his own priests’ observations that those who are lapsing from regular practice today are simply not returning.
Church of England bishop Graham Cray spotted this too: “I am now convinced,” he wrote, “that there is, in the Church, a tendency to exaggerate the extent of interest in spirituality in Western culture. I fear that we exaggerate the significance of those things that we want to see, and downplay evidence that we do not find so congenial.”
And, though I disagree with some of their proposed solutions, to their credit, the wordsmiths of the Association of Catholic Priests have illustrated the same reality with a sometimes brilliant clarity.
I’ve also heard some criticism of Archbishop Neary’s homily in Church circles: some feared his comments might further demoralise the troops. Might a gleeful media spin them as the Church’s great moment of surrender? Was the Archbishop showing his hand while the game of cards is still being played? There is, after all, a marriage referendum to be fought and decisions to be made on the divestment of schools.
Each reservation has some merit but if the archbishop’s message was blunt, it was because it had to be. We are still too comfortably wedded to the ‘keeping the show on the road’ model of ministry so brilliantly critiqued by Archbishop Diarmuid Martin in Cambridge in 2011.
There is a danger that Archbishop Neary’s homily will be remembered only for his honest but bleak assessment. It ought to be read in full (and you can find it on TuamArchdiocese.org) for it also includes a tentative way forward.
In Evangelii Gaudium, Pope Francis warned against a “diagnostic overload”, a “paralysis by analysis” and encouraged action. In that spirit, Archbishop Neary focuses on the need for more dynamic and evangelical workers in the area of youth ministry. While the Church is capable of raising millions for bricks and mortar projects, there remains a frustrating hesitancy to invest in people. But it’s worth the investment.
Last week, I met teenagers associated with the Presentation Brothers’ youth ministry in Cork. A student who had just returned from our pilgrimage to Rome spoke about the basilicas and the great works of art he had seen. But he described his experience of Mass each evening with his peers as the highlight of the pilgrimage.
Enthusiasm
Another college student spoke about rediscovering his faith after a service opportunity in Lourdes. In response to this enthusiasm, a new prayer group, Ignite, has now been established to make sure the faith of these young people is nurtured.
With God’s help, I’ll meet Archbishop Neary on the summit of Croagh Patrick on Reek Sunday next July, as I do most years. On that day, surrounded by thousands of pilgrims, many of them young, we might wonder if our analysis has been too bleak, too pessimistic. But those are days that nourish, not a naive optimism, but an abiding sense of hope that the Christian message, when presented with joy and humility, still has the power to attract the young, to penetrate consciences and to alter lives.
If, in fact, we are witnessing the emergence of a conscious rather than a passive Christianity, a faith of choice rather than inheritance, then, in the words of the late Cardinal Jean Marie Lustiger of Paris, “we’re really at the dawn of Christianity”.
Dawn is usually a cold time of the day. But, often, it’s the most beautiful.