This collection of essays, edited by Fr Niall Coll, senior lecturer in the department of religious studies at St Mary’s University College Belfast, was brought out to coincide with the 50th anniversary of the closing of Vatican II in 1965.
This council was arguably the most significant event of the twentieth century for the Catholic Church and its ramifications are still felt today. Catholics are divided on the council’s legacy, with some being sceptical of the increased emphasis placed on the laity – implicit in the idea of the church being the “people of God” – the introduction of Mass in the vernacular with the priest facing the people, an openness to dialogue with other Christian traditions, reform of the training of priests and religious, the rejuvenation of Scriptural studies, and a host of other changes which were viewed as a fop to the liberal wing of the church.
On the other hand, the supporters of Vatican II bemoan the slowness with which the documents were implemented and the perceived attempts by Pope John Paul II and Benedict XVI to row back on the more “progressive” elements contained in the council’s documents. Regardless of where Catholics stand, however, there can be no doubt that the council represents a watershed in the history of the church.
In his introduction, Coll explains that the 22 essays in the collection seek “to examine the shape, impact and future implementation of the Council”. The whole island of Ireland is examined, and that is to be welcomed, as the reception of the council in the six northern counties was inevitably different to what happened in the rest of the country as a result of the Troubles.
The late professor of history in Maynooth College, Monsignor Patrick Corish, maintained that it takes a century for the church to fully receive a council. By that reckoning, we are a little more than halfway towards discovering the full ramifications of Vatican II. Notwithstanding, this collection provides a very good analysis of where we stand at the mid-way point.
The book is divided into three sections: Retrospectives (seven chapters); Theological, Pastoral and Social (10 chapters), and Catholic Education (five chapters). Depending on one’s preferences, some sections will be of more obvious interest than others. To me, the opening chapter by the Jesuit historian Oliver P Rafferty is the standout piece of the book. It provides an admirable historical perspective on the reception of Vatican II in Ireland and describes the vastly different religious landscape that pertains in Ireland today compared to in 1965.
Rafferty outlines how the clerical abuse scandals “have accelerated a process whereby institutional Catholicism has passed from being one of the most significant phenomena in Irish society to one where it is reviled, and where even public representatives look for further ways to undermine it”. He quotes Declan Kiberd’s comment that a type of “secular fundamentalism” now dominates public discourse in Ireland, a state of affairs that can only be injurious to the general perception of religious practice.
When assessing the crisis produced in Irish Catholicism by the Vatican II era, Rafferty asks how deeply embedded Catholicism actually was in the Irish psyche. Whereas numbers attending Mass and religious services were extraordinarily high by any standards during the 1960s, the groups of men huddled outside the churches while their wives and children performed their liturgical duties, might indicate “a certain ecclesiastical conformism … rather than a deep hold of the Christian faith”.
Rafferty also questions why a country as deeply committed to Catholicism as Ireland has failed to produce a single theologian of the standing of Congar, Daniélou, Rahner or von Balthasar. Our writers, actors and singers all thrive on the international stage, while our theologians have made little impact in their discipline. This may be in part due to the way in which the Irish church is “sceptical of the intellectual and denigrates the role and position of ideas in life”. However, Rafferty also makes the point that the national seminary in Maynooth has tended to concentrate on producing “capable ecclesiastical functionaries”, at the expense of encouraging a rigorous pursuit of theology among the seminarians. This deficit in many priests has led to a failure to educate lay people in theology, which in turn has meant a lack of a “sophisticated lay Catholic culture”, a feature of Catholicism in other countries such as France (Jacques and Raïssa Maritain spring to mind immediately in this context).
While it is difficult to say whether or not a full implementation of Vatican II would have saved the Irish church from becoming increasingly irrelevant in the public life of the country, Rafferty feels that at the very least the council’s effect was hampered by the “lack of imagination” with which the Irish clergy went about implementing it.
Pressure of space will not allow a lengthy engagement with all the essays in the collection, so what I propose to do now is to comment briefly on what I consider to be the most interesting and important issues raised. Nuala O’Loan’s chapter supplies a thoughtful reflection on how the sudden shift to a vernacular liturgy and a changed approach to catechesis during her schooldays affected her experience of Catholicism. Her overall reaction remains positive: “Faith, for me, became not just something personal to me, to be lived out in pious practice and good living, but rather a real call to holiness: challenging, difficult, demanding and all predicated upon the reality that God first loved me, and that he called me to love him and to love others as he loves me.”
Archbishop Richard Clarke of the Church of Ireland notes that the council had a constructive influence on Christians of other traditions as well. He is especially appreciative of the way it made ecumenical dialogues at every level an imperative. Paul Andrews SJ looks back on how the authoritarian and dogmatic Catholicism he experienced during his youth was transformed by the reforms introduced by Vatican II. His experience of working in a parish in New Zealand has convinced him that an empowered laity may ensure that Catholic experience can continue, and even flourish, with far fewer priests.
The Redemptorist priest Gerry Reynolds had first-hand experience of ministry in Belfast during the sectarian violence of the Troubles and his work for reconciliation and peace opened up for him many hopeful signs of how a shared Christian heritage can at times overcome hatred and suspicion. The Clonard Peace and Reconciliation Mission where he worked with Fr Alec Reid is a concrete example in his mind of the value of some of the documents of Vatican II, particularly Lumen Gentium and Unitatis Redintegratio. He concludes: “I have to say that in my years in Belfast I have discovered the church that I love and to whose ministry I have dedicated my life. I would never have made that discovery had the Spirit of God not led me to Belfast.”
The special option for the poor that was foregrounded by the council and the liberation theology that it spawned are the focus of a number of essays. However, too often the discussion is not focused on Ireland, which is regrettable, especially in light of the economic hardship and homelessness that are a feature of Irish life for the past number of years.
Pope Francis has regularly underlined how Christ’s vision privileged those who are materially disadvantaged, marginalised and excluded, and has called on Catholics to establish a more equitable world. The gap between rich and poor has continued to rise exponentially since the abrupt end to the Celtic Tiger and one wonders when the social documents of Vatican II might be reignited to combat the massive disparity between the haves and the have-nots. Gerard McCann quotes the words of Martin Luther King, which have a huge significance for today’s world: “We must rapidly begin to shift from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights, are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, extreme materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.”
People inspired by the spirit of Vatican II were to the forefront in the struggle for human rights in places like South and Central America, often (as in the case of Archbishop Romero in El Salvador) paying for their convictions with their lives. In Ireland, the Jesuit priest Peter McVerry and Sister Stanislaus Kennedy of Focus Ireland are two well-known and respected advocates for the homeless, while Brother Kevin Crowley runs the Capuchin Day Centre on Merchants Quay, where hundreds of people come daily to avail of the meals that are supplied there for those who have fallen on hard times. These three spiritual witnesses are in harmony with the spirit of Vatican II.
The second section opens with an excellent chapter by Eugene Duffy who actually sees signs for hope in the way the Catholic Church in Ireland has been brought to its knees in recent times. He speaks of a purification, adding that “the church has been chastened because of the sins of its leaders”. Rather than bemoaning the demise of the triumphalist church of the past, Duffy argues that people should try to “discover the love of God in their lives”.
The culture of our times, with its emphasis on individual liberty and conscience, demands a less authoritarian approach by church leaders. Duffy suggests that there should be increased attention paid to the Vatican II principles of synodality and collegiality, which demand “genuine dialogue”, not something one associates too often with the Irish church.
Quoting Brian Fallon’s point in An Age of Innocence (1998) that the Irish hierarchy has always been unable to accept constructive criticism from others or to criticise itself, Duffy opines that this unfortunate attitude will endure as long as the current system for appointing bishops is left in place. He advocates involvement of the local church members in the process “so that men of deep faith, intelligence, imagination and courage are put in leadership positions, instead of the safe men, deferential to Rome and who will never have the inclination or the ability to risk any new pastoral initiatives”.
Duffy is skilled at diagnosing several maladies within the church and at suggesting possible remedies. He is correct in asserting that the bishops appear to be more concerned with issues of sexual morality than they are with issues of social justice and solidarity. There is far too much concentration on ritualism, legalism and administration at the expense of proclaiming the Gospel message of love. The situation is crying out for bold leadership and prophetic voices, but what one gets instead is the silencing and/or punishment of loyal critics with the ostensible design of crushing dissent from within.
Despite the many problems he outlines, Duffy still manages to sound a note of hope towards the end of his chapter: “The opium that is sustaining many Irish Catholics today, especially the clergy, is that familiar customs and traditions are still valued, despite their faith content having being evacuated in very many cases.”
This is something that struck me forcibly when observing the funeral services of three of Ireland’s foremost writers: John McGahern, Seamus Heaney and Brian Friel. Before their deaths, McGahern and Friel had long since ceased practicing their religion and Heaney had, at the very least, serious reservations about certain aspects of church teaching. Yet two of the three opted for the traditional funeral Mass (McGahern and Heaney) and all three had prayers said at their graveside. Why was this, one wonders? It is probably because Catholicism was the language of their youth and they could not ignore the significant contribution (good and bad) it made to their lives. Respect for local custom demanded that that there be some religious ritual to mark the end of their time on this earth.
Michael Kelly, editor of the Irish Catholic, is uniquely positioned to write about the somewhat strained relationship between church and media in Ireland. Kelly argues that the hostile media coverage of church matters is due to a myriad of factors. He himself finds it frustrating that bodies like the Irish Bishops’ Conference issue bland press releases and generally deal with the media in a manner that shows their inherent distrust of what spin will be put on their comments.
Working for a Catholic newspaper, in Kelly’s opinion, should not mean that journalists merely toe the party line: their readers have a right to a dispassionate discussion of issues that are of direct concern to them. There are times when Kelly encounters bewilderment among senior bishops when the Irish Catholic criticises governance failings in the church. Comments like “And I thought you were on our side” have been commonplace, as if there was no room for legitimate criticism within the church.
In his discussion of the influence of Vatican II on the Protestant churches in Ireland, Patrick Mitchel notes that, for good or ill, Irish identity is being reshaped in a more pluralist, diffuse and non-religious form, which means that old polarities are losing their force. This has led to Catholics and Protestants finding common ground when it comes to certain ethical and moral issues. Mitchel wonders if the slow adoption of Vatican II within Irish Catholicism was due in part to the uniquely powerful position of the church in Irish society. He muses if Vatican II and its ecumenical message are now gaining some traction in Ireland because the churches are less central and respected in the wider culture. It seems to me that this could indeed be the case.
The chapters in the remainder of the book cover a very broad canvas with treatment of changes in the liturgy, the stark challenges facing religious life in Ireland, Mary and her role in the church, and the controversial subject of the church’s control of education. They are all stimulating but cannot unfortunately be commented on in this review.
Ireland and Vatican II, therefore, is an indispensable text, particularly for those who have lived through the hugely transformed religious landscape in Ireland since 1965. Rafferty argues here that the Second Vatican Council “failed in any real sense to renew Irish Catholicism”, a failure he attributes to a number of factors, many of which were unconnected with Vatican II’s deliberations.
Pope John Paul II’s visit to Ireland in 1979 was an attempt to stem the growing tide of secularism that had taken root in the country and could be seen in the sharp fall in vocations to the priesthood and the religious life. Almost four decades later we have arrived at a stage where many wonder who will break the Bread for us (to quote the title of a recent book by Fr Brendan Hoban ) 10 years from now. The ageing demographic among priests and religious has created a situation where there are fewer and fewer priests available to celebrate Mass and administer the sacraments.
In addition, the once powerful edifice of church is facing into a future where its relevance will increasingly come under sharper scrutiny and where the once-crowded church pews will be largely empty, particularly in Dublin.
Hence, the importance of this book lies in its comprehensive and balanced appraisal of where Irish Catholicism stands a half century after Vatican II and the tentative suggestions it advances as to what the future may hold for religion on the island of Ireland.
Eamon Maher is Director of the National Centre for Franco-Irish Studies in IT Tallaght. His latest book, co-edited with Eugene O’Brien, The Cultural Legacy of Irish Catholicism: From Galway to Cloyne, and Beyond, will be published later this year by Manchester University Press
