The Past, as the man says, Is A Different Country (Part II)

This is Part Two of a post I started a few days ago, in which I break with tradition and post on a day that is not the 27^th of the month. Here I outline a few more statistics that show what dire straits we are in in the Church in Ireland.

Vocations

Now I’ll take a look at a point that is crucial to the growth of the Catholic Church in any region: vocations to the religious life and priesthood. Our Church is a sacramental Church, and the sacraments come through the priesthood and the episcopate. Besides the priesthood, there is the invaluable work done by non-ordained male religious and female religious.

The numbers answering the call to a religious vocation, although they would realistically be a minority amongst the faithful, are still indicative of the health of the Church in any given region, not only because they provide the necessary flow of graces in the form of the Eucharist, Confession (and in the case of contemplative religious in the form of their unceasing prayer for the rest of us), but also because a comparatively large number of people choosing to live lives completely given up to the Church, living under the counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience, is a sign that there are a significant number of members of the Church dedicated enough to sacrifice their all for love of God.

Of course, there is always the risk of over-inflated numbers of vocations, especially in societies where the priesthood is highly respected and there is a temptation or pressure to enter for the wrong reasons. This seems to have been the case in Ireland in the early to mid twentieth century. Suffice to say that there is no longer a cultural esteem in having a member of the family in the clergy or the convent in modern Ireland.

More important than the raw numbers of vocations I think is whether or not the ranks of the current clergy and religious are being replaced as older members die or retire.

For the moment I’m going to ignore the fact that a significant minority of Irish priests are in open defiance of Church teaching, and look at the raw numbers. Sufficient to the blog post the evil thereof.

Let’s take a look at some statistics in relation to priests.

First, look at this document reproduced by Shane on the Lux Occulta blog relating to the number of priests in Ireland, published in 1958.

I’m going to pull out a few points and key statistics.

• Total number of priests in Ireland in 1956: 5,489. 3,772 were diocesan, 1,717 were religious.
• Ratio of priests to Catholic laity in Ireland that year: 1:539.
• Between the years 1941-1950, an average of 98 seminarians were ordained each year for the dioceses alone.
• In 1957, between dioceses and religious orders, 334 seminarians were ordained.
• The number of seminarians per 100,000 Catholics in Ireland in 1955: 75. 60% on average persevered to ordination.

A priest for every five hundred Catholics. Wow.

An important note is that many of those priests were ordained for foreign missions and left our shores.

Now, to compare a few statistics.

Here are some numbers from an Irish Times article:

• Number of diocesan priests in 2002: 3,203
• Number of diocesan priests in 2012: 2,800

Let’s compare those then to the previous numbers.

• Number of diocesan priests in 1956: 3,772
• Number of diocesan priests in 2002: 3,203
• Number of diocesan priests in 2012: 2,800
• Percentage decrease between 2002 and 2012: 13%
• Percentage decrease between 1956 and 2012: 26%

So in the space of just over fifty years we have lost a quarter of our diocesan priests. Let’s take a look at the religious priests from the same Irish Times source. We find that there are more religious priests than there were in 1956, but that they are declining since the turn of the century as well, albeit at a slower pace:

• Number of religious priests in 1956: 1,717
• Number of religious priests in 2002: 2,159
• Number of religious priests in 2012: 1,888
• Percentage decrease between 2002 and 2012: Approx 12.5%

The same source shows a decrease of 23% in the number of nuns in the same 2002-2012 period.

Another way to look at this is to examine the ratio of priests to laity. The Catholic population of Ireland in 2011 according to the census was roughly 3.86 million (about 84%, we’ll call it 85% for roundness’ sake). The total number of priests stood at 4,688 in 2012 according to the above figures, which gives us a ratio of 1:823. It’s a huge difference from 1:539. I’m no expert, but I think this is still a healthy ratio for a given Catholic country. The problem is that the average age of those priests is probably several decades older than it was in 1956, and there are going to be plenty of retirements and deaths in the years to come. The ratio has probably grown larger even in just the last three years.

So the critical question becomes: Are these priests being replaced?

The figures are hard to find for religious priests, but as for the diocese, well, we have 14 new seminarians this academic year, which brings the number in Maynooth to a grand total of 70. Less than last year’s 20.

Let’s assume that all fourteen of this year’s entry class reach ordination, which is unlikely given that a certain number always drop out (40% on average in the forties and fifties). This would mean 84 less diocesan priests ordained than in the average year in the forties.

It would be an increase of roughly .003% on the 2012 numbers. When you take away the deaths and retirements, well, I’m guessing that .003% doesn’t exactly bring the net increase/decrease into the black.

That’s simply not enough to maintain the number of priests in the face of the massive decline laid out above.

The religious orders are in even more dire straits, with a few exceptions (the Dominicans and Franciscans of the Renewal are notable, although even their numbers vary from year to year).

Apart from being a sign that the Church is not in a healthy state, the simple problem this presents is that the structures already in place must necessarily collapse once there are too many parishes and not enough priests. Anecdotally, I’ve been told that within five years the number of priests below retirement age in the Dublin Archdiocese will drop below the number of parishes. So where are people going to go to receive the sacraments? What happens to parish life once the churches start closing and we cluster, and then cluster some more? It’s possible to work things out structurally speaking, of course, but without tackling the root problem of the decline in vocations it’s only another case of what’s referred to as ‘managed decline.’ I have a feeling that that’s not quite what the Great Commission was all about.

Of course, part of the problem is surely the horrendous state of our national seminary here. But that’s a subject for another day.

Catechesis

Perhaps just as important as the issue of vocations is the issue of catechesis. As was said above, about 85% of Irish identify as Catholic, and since roughly 90% of schools are run by the Catholic Church, at least on paper, most children get a nominally Catholic education (That 90% figure is bandied about a lot on the internet. I can’t find the exact figure but it sounds about right).

So, about 85-90% of children should be learning about Catholicism and what the Church believes and stands for, right?

Right?

Would it were so simple.

I’ll skip the anecdotes of all of my friends who went to Catholic schools in Ireland and learned absolutely nothing about the faith. I’ll also skip the anecdotes of friends who attended Protestant schools because their parents felt (apparently correctly) more secure that their children would get some sort of a religious education grounded in Christian principles.

Here is the website of Éanna Johnson, a catechist who did his PhD dissertation on the Church’s Alive-O primary school catechesis programme. Alive-O is probably best known for the chapter in which the metaphor of a witch baking magic bread is used to explain the mystery of transubstantiation. I don’t think there’s really a rational comment I can make on that.

As part of his research, Éanna did a survey (here) of Catholic school children who had just completed primary school (so 12-13 years old) to see how much they had learned about the faith from Alive-O, and I’m just going to dip into that and extract a few statistics from here and there on the children surveyed for the thesis. The survey consisted mainly of multiple-choice questions, so no need for the kids to write out complex theological answers.

• Only 52% picked the right definition of the Trinity
• Only 31% could name the Persons of the Trinity
• Only 55% picked the right answer when asked what the Eucharist was
• Only 1% could explain what a Sacrament is
• Only 42% could write out the whole Our Father
• 38% could not name any of the Ten Commandments
• 82% could not explain what happens in Confession
• 68% believed angels to be people sent back from the dead by God
• 62% believed the devil is only a symbol of evil, with a further 4% believing him to be just a story to frighten children
• 21% believed in reincarnation

To be fair, the children surveyed scored quite highly in some questions (such as the names of Saints and parts of the Gospel) and some of the questions are quite tough. But nonetheless, the answers do show a lack of knowledge about some fairly basic stuff, especially considering that this came at the end of eight years of Catholic education. And, well, I have absolutely no clue how one in every five children who goes to a Catholic school develops a belief in reincarnation.

Now, I don’t for one moment blame the kids for this. Kids are smart. They understand far more than most adults give them credit for. The problem lies with the educational model itself, and to a large degree also with the teachers, who have been formed in the same way and don’t understand or practice the faith themselves, some honourable exceptions notwithstanding. I suppose that it’s not the fault of those teachers either, given that the problems with catechesis go way back.

Éanna’s PhD thesis is available through a link on his home page, and he deals with the problems in the Alive-O programme. I have heard that there were also problems with the previous curriculum, the Children of God series, so our difficulties with catechesis go back to its introduction in 1976, if not before.

Faithfulness to Church Teaching

This leads us quite fittingly into the next area: the fidelity to Church teaching of Catholics in Ireland. Given the difficulties with catechesis outlined above, it should be no surprise that many Catholics simply don’t believe in many of the things the Church teaches.

The Association of Catholic Priests conducted a survey in 2012 which sought to measure, amongst other things ‘the relevance of the churches [sic] teachings in everyday life.’

Whatever other agendas the ACP might have, I see no reason to doubt the results. In light of the result in last week’s gay marriage referendum, it should come as not surprise that many Catholics do not agree with the Church’s teachings on that issue. Some of the questions are a bit oddly worded, reflecting certain biases (asked whether or not Irish bishops are subservient to Rome, the responses are essentially ‘Independent,’ ‘Subservient,’ or ‘Just Right,’ as if obedience to Rome is some sort of selection of porridges and Catholics in Ireland identified with Goldilocks), but many are straightforward. Here is a sample of a few other aspects of Catholic belief and how many Catholics in Ireland hold to them:

• 35% attend Sunday Mass (with 7% attending Mass during the week too)
• 87% supported an end to priestly celibacy (admittedly a point for legitimate argument within the Church)
• 77% supported the ordination of women
• 75% said that they believed Church teaching on sexuality to be ‘irrelevant’ to them and their family
• 61% disagree with Church teaching on homosexuality (with a further 21% having no opinion as opposed to agreeing)
• 87% Believe in Communion for the divorced and remarried

Which means that, going on that last point, a maximum of 13% of Catholics agree with all of the Church’s teachings. Granted, a poll is never entirely reflective of the exact situation, but I imagine that it’s not far off the truth. The results seem to reflect the situation quite well.

Cultural Catholicism

Which brings me to one final point. Even if most Catholics don’t understand their Church’s teachings, and consequently don’t agree with them, there’s always been a cultural Catholicism. There’s the fact that people still turn up to Easter and Christmas Mass (21% in the survey turn up to Mass just for ‘Special Occasions,’ which includes Christmas, Easter, Weddings and Funerals), people get their children baptised, send them to Catholic schools where they learn a few things about the faith and then go through the motions of their First Communion and Confirmation, before getting married in the Church and eventually being buried there. This is not to mention the little things, like asking granny to light a candle for their exams and crossing themselves as ambulances go by or as they pass a church, as well as the playing of the Angelus on our national broadcaster, RTÉ (although even sixty seconds a day of cultural Catholicism on TV seems too much for some).

But perhaps there are a few signs that this is changing. Here’s one for instance, again courtesy of Lux Occulta: the number of Church weddings has sharply declined, especially in Dublin. Again, a few stats:

• Percentage of weddings that were Catholic in Ireland in 1994: ~91%
• Percentage of weddings that were Catholic in Ireland in 2004: ~74%
• Percentage of weddings that were Catholic in Ireland in 2014: ~59%
• Percentage of weddings that were Catholic in the Dublin region in 2014: ~44%

Many couples get married in the Church for reasons such as the surroundings, or to keep their more devout Catholic parents happy. If even this is level of practice is starting to slip, then it shows a decline even in the most basic of cultural roots in Catholicism.

Another aspect that needs to be explored further is the number of parents who have their children baptised just to get them into Catholic schools. There are also the incessant calls to have the ban on the sale of alcohol on Good Friday lifted (which I have no problem with personally in principle although it aggravates me a great deal simply because I find it depressing that many Irish think it the worst form of oppression not to be able to get drunk on one day out of 365).

Conclusion

These two posts have not exactly been a scientific survey. I’ve plucked out a few statistics from here and there to take a snapshot of our situation, from which I hope to make a point.

What is that point?

In a country where 85% of people identify as Catholics, the number of vocations to the priesthood and religious life is plummeting, most people don’t know their what their faith stands for, don’t agree with the bits they do know and don’t allow it to influence how they vote, and even the cultural residues of Catholicism are starting to drain away. Only 35% go to Sunday Mass, and the number active in apostolates and other works in the Church is much less. There is much more work and research that can be done into these and many other issues, but I hope that this is enough to establish that the position we find ourselves in as devout Catholics in the 21^st Century in Ireland is a far cry from the imagined Holy Catholic Ireland of long ago, and moreover to establish the severity of the cultural shift we face.

There are, of course, the signs of hope (or should that be Hope?), the softly burning embers that the Holy Spirit might yet breathe upon and stir to life once more, if only we open our hearts to His grace and get down to the hard work of rebuilding the Church. We can see it in the appointment of good new bishops, both orthodox as well as pastoral. We can see it in the growth of youth movements such as Youth 2000, which show that God is still calling and young hearts are still searching. We can see it in the fact that we still have a place at all in Ireland, unlike other cultures once Catholic.

It is not my intention to be apocalyptic here. Rather, we need to understand our situation in order to discern the path to renewal.

We are assured that the Church will last. But we have to fight our corner too. And knowing, as the cliché goes, is half the battle.

The Past, as the man says, Is a Different Country (Part I)

It has been a while since I last posted, life having intervened. The week of the legalisation of gay marriage by popular vote in a referendum in Ireland seems as good a point as any to tackle this subject.

The first step of any realistic attempt to move forward is necessarily an attempt to figure out where we are at right now. Let me tell you where we are not: Holy Catholic Ireland. The Isle of Saints and Scholars. The Jewel In the Pope’s Crown. Etc. etc.

Ireland has changed, changed utterly.

The following is a sketch of where we are at, looking at concrete evidence of the fact that we are no longer truly a Catholic country and hopefully opening up some avenues to explore in future posts. I’ll perhaps embellish some points anecdotally, although in this post I’m chiefly concerned with collating some statistics and reports. It’s not meant to be entirely in-depth in every area, as that would require a book rather than a blog post.

Politics

I’ll begin with the arena of politics. I would refer to politics as ‘the last objective.’ This is for two reasons: First of all, for all of its vagaries and sea-changes, politics is the last point in any culture to change, since politicians, a few idealists excepting, do not change their positions on controversial opinions until the rest of society has shifted to that point. Take a look at gay marriage. Our politicians have been very reluctant for the most part to support it until very recently, but now that they can feel the current changing in society, all four major political parties felt comfortable throwing themselves behind it during the recent campaign. I also call politics ‘the last objective’ because it should be the last field we should seek to place our hope in. Politics only influences society insofar as society allows it to, and insofar as society itself influences politics. We really do get the leaders we deserve. Political victories in a society that is turning against us can only serve to delay the inevitable. We should instead seek to focus on changing the culture, starting with ourselves, our immediate social and family circles, followed by areas that affect society more broadly: arts, academia, education, media, medicine, law, finance.

I choose to focus on politics first in this post because it acts as a good barometer of sea-changes in society, and also because this is a Catholic blog, so the last objective shall go first.

The 62-38 victory for gay marriage this May is an obvious place to start, but I’d rather take a slightly longer view, so let’s look at the Euro elections in the twenty-first century and how Catholic politicians who ran as Catholic politicians fared. I have emphasised cases where candidates won a seat.

All figures sourced from http://electionsireland.org/index.cfm, which as far as I can see is accurate.

First off, there’s the constituency that roughly covers Connaught and Ulster, which like the others has had its boundaries changed over the last while.

• In 1999, Dana Rosemary Scallon won a seat in Connaught-Ulster with 51,086 first preference votes out of an electorate of roughly 540,000.
• In 2004, Dana lost her seat in the North West constituency with 56,992 first preference votes out of an electorate of roughly 690,000.
• In 2009 there were no major Catholic candidates who ran as Catholic candidates in the North West constituency, although for comparison’s sake we could take Declan Ganley, who was running on a moderate Euro-sceptic platform but was known to be a devout Catholic. He got 67,638 first preference votes out of and electorate of roughly 800,000 and was not elected.
• In 2014, we had Senator Ronan Mullen running in the Midlands North West constituency, who got elected on the first round to the Senate for the NUI universities, an impressive result. However, in the Euro elections he gained only 36,326 first preference votes out of an electorate of roughly 1,200,000 and was not elected.

What about the South constituency? (It too has grown to encompass more counties but the name has remained the same)

• In 2004, Kathy Sinnott won a seat in the South Constituency with 89,127 first preference votes out of an electorate of roughly 800,000.
• In 2009, she lost her seat in the same constituency, gaining only 58,485 first preference votes out of an electorate of roughly 860,000.
• In 2014, Theresa Heaney of the Catholic Democrats ran in the same constituency and garnered only 13,569 first preference votes out of an electorate of roughly 1,200,000.

As can be seen, no major politician who identified as Catholic has won a seat since 2004. There are various explanations for this; a reduced number of seats has made it more competitive; the Catholic Democrats were not exactly inspiring in their campaign; Independents tend not to get reelected. Still, my take on this situation is that less people are inclined to vote for Catholic politicians than in previous years, especially those who run on pro-life/pro-family platforms. There was an instinctive Catholic vote which has been greatly diminished, which is not to take away from those politicians who ran successful campaigns, as they obviously managed to woo voters with a variety of concerns to get elected or almost elected at least.

Let me take a counterpoint to drive this home: Luke ‘Ming’ Flanagan. Flanagan won the first seat in the Midlands North West constituency on the second count, earning a whopping 124,063 first preference votes, a vast improvement on his performance in 1999 (about 5,000 votes). Now, if one votes for a politician, this must mean:

• a) They approve of all or many of his or her policies
• b) They don’t care one way or another about their other policies
• c) They don’t like some of their policies but think that they are better than any other candidate
• d) They don’t have a clue what they’re doing

So leaving out those who voted for Flanagan because he has a funny beard and nickname, his 124,000 first preference voters either approve of him generally or think him a better alternative to any other candidate. What policies and statements do they approve of, actively or passively?

There is, of course, his healthcare advocacy in relation to the downgrading of Roscommon County Hospital and his opposition to EU restrictions on turfcutting, both popular local issues. Follow that same link, though, and you’ll discover one of his other pet causes: the legalisation of cannabis. There’s also his more general opposition to the EU and austerity.

Perhaps more pertinently for a Catholic voter, there is his staunch support for abortion (even going so far as to vote against the 2013 abortion bill on the grounds that it didn’t go far enough) and gay marriage. Oh, and there’s his support for fornication too. In his own words in the middle of a Dáil debate: ‘Hurrah for fornication!’

I singled out Flanagan not because he is exceptional in these things, but rather because his share of the vote seemed to me exceptional. It’s obvious that a large number of people are willing to accept his policies on abortion, gay marriage and cannabis usage, either because they agree with them, or because they agree with his other policies and don’t care enough about these to give somebody else the first preference. Flanagan is one example among many, although to his credit he’s far less cryptic about it than the average party politician.

But enough about politics. In part two of this post I’ll take a quick look at the following areas in terms of our current situation in the Irish Church:

Vocations

Faithfulness to Church Teaching

Catechesis

Cultural Catholicism