Larry Donnelly
More attention should be paid to the wonderful influence the Church can be on people, writes Larry Donnelly
Although I write and speak a lot publicly – both in my day job as a lecturer in the School of Law at NUI Galway and in my avocation as an avid watcher of and commentator on all things political – I have almost never written or spoken of what is the primary animating force in my life: my deeply held Catholic faith. The Lenten season seemed like an ideal occasion in which to do so.
At the outset, it’s important to state that I fully recognise why so much effort in the media and elsewhere has been dedicated to seeking to hold the Irish Catholic Church to account for its past misdeeds.
For far too long, the Church in Ireland (as well as in my hometown of Boston) held way too much power and often wielded that power in a disgraceful fashion. No apology that will ever be made to the people who suffered harm, directly or indirectly, at the hands of the Church can suffice.
Nevertheless, I think it’s a terrible shame that the Church is portrayed at times – with scant reference to all of the good that it has done and continues to do for millions in need all around the world – as an institution that exists in Ireland mainly to deny the fundamental rights of members of the LGBT community, women and those children who are not baptised.
Influence
I just wish that maybe there could be more attention paid to the way the Church is a wonderful influence on the lives of so many. Mine is one of those lives, and that’s why I’m writing now.
My friends, family, neighbours and some colleagues and acquaintances are well aware that I am a proud, practising Catholic, yet others who know me or know of me would be taken aback if they were to read this column.
They would probably be surprised by my identifying strongly as a Catholic because it might strike them as incongruous. A relatively young (just about) man, who works as an academic lawyer, who espouses a slightly left of centre political ideology and who hails from the American epicentre of clerical sex abuse, the Archdiocese of Boston, may perhaps seem an unlikely Catholic.
Without denying the other aspects of who I am, I remain absolutely delighted to profess my faith. But even though I completely reject the over-the-top claims made in some quarters that it’s easier to ‘come out’ as a gay or a lesbian in Ireland than as a Catholic in Ireland in 2016, I am also certain that some will raise an eyebrow or look askance at what they might perceive as my lack of sophistication. That’s their right.
Regardless of who I am or how I may be defined by others, I am a Catholic above anything else. Why?
Despite having spent eight years being educated exceptionally well by invariably brilliant Jesuit priests and their lay colleagues – at Boston College High School in the city’s Dorchester neighbourhood and subsequently at the College of the Holy Cross in Worcester, Massachusetts – the formation of my faith did not result from a process of initial, rigorous, intellectual inquiry which led me subsequently to defend Catholicism in a similarly robust, philosophical fashion. My faith has more basic and less lofty origins than that.
It is rooted in the Catholic upbringing that I was lucky enough to have received from my father and my late mother. They weren’t saintly, and never pretended to be. Through their example, however, I came to appreciate the power of faith. They leaned on their Catholicism in trying times and they extolled the myriad benefits of setting everything aside for just one hour a week to celebrate the Mass.
By watching and listening to them, I learned lessons that have stayed with me to this day. And these lessons were reinforced by the nuns and lay teachers I had in my Catholic primary school. They were, to a person, simultaneously supportive facilitators and stern disciplinarians. I will forever be in their debt.
Did I question my religion when I was younger? I certainly did. But when things in my life have been challenging or complicated, my Catholicism has always been something that I have fallen back upon. Most especially, my faith carried me through the loss of my mother eight years ago. Again, throughout that difficult period, I recalled how her faith had done the same for her when my grandmother died.
Moreover, like virtually all young Catholics, I went through phases during which I didn’t attend Mass frequently. I suspect that even the most dedicated, Mass-going person would readily admit that there are some mornings after she has been up very late or can hear rain pelting the rooftop when staying in bed is tempting.
Nonetheless, any chances of being tempted enough to decide against going to Mass on Sundays have nearly entirely disappeared in my house since November of 2012 when my early rising son, Larry, was born.
Shortly thereafter, I made up my mind and then told my wife that I would do everything possible to pass on to him the same gift of faith that my parents passed on to me.
As such, I put him in his buggy and he and I walk every Sunday to 11.30 Mass, where we occupy roughly the same spot at the back of our parish church.
Of course, he doesn’t really know what is going on, but is ordinarily very quiet, friendly and well-behaved.
Many older parishioners smile and some even have remarked to me that Larry is a great little boy and that they wish their own children were in church with their grandchildren.
Waste of time
On the other hand, I can imagine that some people looking in from the outside would find my bringing Larry to Mass every week a waste of time, at best, and, at worst, an attempt to indoctrinate an unwitting toddler.
In reality, it’s neither. At this admittedly very early stage of his personal formation, I’m only trying to give to Larry what my parents gave to me: a faith that can help him to overcome life’s inevitable obstacles and a cognisance of what an hour a week at Mass – the ultimate expression of that faith – can do for his body and soul.
This is why I am a Catholic and this is why I sincerely hope he will be too.
Larry Donnelly is a Law Lecturer at NUI Galway and a regular contributor to media outlets on politics, current affairs and law. You can follow him on Twitter @LarryPDonnelly.