After the annus horribilis that was 2009, three priests at different stages of their vocational lives talk to ROSITA BOLANDabout how their views of the church have changed and what they think the future will hold
FR MICHAEL KELLY (34)
Diocesan priest in Dublin, based in Crumlin
One year ordained
It was always at the back of my mind that I wanted to be a priest. I looked up to priests when I was a child. I was seven when I first started thinking about it.
In my late teenage years, I fell away from the church, and didn’t attend Mass that often. I dropped out of school after my Junior Cert, and started up a rock’n’roll band with my brother. We called it Whyne. We thought that was a cool name!
I volunteered at the Capuchin homeless centre in Blanchardstown, which developed my faith life – helping people who were having a difficult time in their life. It made me start reading the Gospel on my own. I have a friendship with Jesus as well as knowing he is my Lord and Saviour.
After the band, I’d worked at Motorola and then at St Luke’s Hospital, where I was a ward orderly – helping people again. I decided I wanted to get to know Jesus. When it comes down to it, I became a priest because I believe that’s what God called me to do. Everyone in my family was quite shocked, especially my brother I’d been in the band with, but they were supportive. There were 16 of us who started in my year. Only seven were ordained.
I wasn’t even born when the abuse in the church went on, so I don’t feel guilty – but I do feel a collective sense of shame. The people named in the reports should resign. I’m angry. I’m upset. When trust has been broken the way it has, it’s very difficult to rebuild it. There has been so much hypocrisy in the church, and people can’t get past that.
It’s not easy. I’ve been called a child rapist on the street. It has affected my faith: I’ve been spending more time in prayer. It has made me question and look at the structure of the Catholic Church. There was so much deceit and cover-up. It’s time for big changes. In one way, it is a great challenge to be a priest now, because the church faces such challenges; I have to see it as an opportunity.
Those priests who abused children studied moral theology when they trained. I just don’t know how you can be a Christian and do the things they did.
FR JAMES McSWEENEY (40)
Diocesan priest in Cork; chaplain at Cólaiste Choilm, Ballincollig, Co Cork
Fifteen years ordained
I was 18 when I went into Maynooth. The world is a very different place now from when we were going to school; faith was accepted, a part of everyone’s life then. Back in the 1980s, the priesthood was an option that was just there as something to do after school. I thought: why not try it out? Looking back now, it was definitely way too young. In those days, people went straight from school to Maynooth. But you need a gap.
I came into the priesthood as vocations were peaking. There were 72 with me in the class when I started; 27 of them finished. That was still a big number. There’s been nothing like those numbers since – they’ve tumbled.
In the school, the students are aware of the stories about the church, but it’s outside their world. The institutionalised church means nothing to them. They have abandoned the church formally, but in terms of their own inspiration, they’re in a great place, and are very open to all forms of spirituality.
The stories about the church really started coming out in 1995, and they’ve been coming constantly since. Personally, I’ve found it very, very difficult. At times, I’ve felt very lonely, and very isolated. Isolated in the sense that there’s that thought that you’re tarnished with the same brush. People feel genuinely hurt and let down, and I share people’s horror and disgust. There are no words to describe the anger, horror, betrayal, everything . . . There are no words to describe the horror of this story.
I do think people should resign. Absolutely. I would certainly say that. There has been too much holding on to power, too much hiding behind the institution of the church. There has been a lack of openness and honesty. They let so many people down and I feel angry about that.
If I saw what was ahead when I was starting out, no way would I have gone into the priesthood. Not a hope. That’s just being honest with you. There have been times when I felt: “Why bother? Why stay?” I would have been there. I would have thought of moving on.
Faith is obviously still important to me, that’s what keeps me here. But the church is in huge transition. It can never ever go back to where it’s been. It’s going to take years and years to rebuild openness and trust.
The reason I’m still in the priesthood is the young people, who give me great inspiration and hope. We need to tap into that. The liturgy and the way the church speak to people doesn’t connect with people – people have walked.
In the future, we’ll be looking at smaller faith communities. The days of big numbers are long gone. People won’t come back to the church.
FR DICK LYNG (59)
Augustinian parish priest, Galway city
Ordained 35 years
Idealism. That’s why I wanted to be a priest. I wanted to do something useful with my life. I was born into a Catholic culture, and priesthood was the obvious channel in those days for finding expression for idealism. I went into training straight from school, when I was 18 – 95 per cent of people did that. At the time it was considered the most normal thing to do – you went into medicine; you became a priest. I had faith, but for that time it was normal. It was no different to the faith of fellas sitting beside me at school.
It is almost impossible for me to comprehend that fellow priests were damaging small children. I was shocked to the core.
But if it didn’t shock people, that would be more shocking still. A priest who doesn’t feel tarnished, contaminated – to use all the diseased terms there are – is living in cloud cuckoo land.
Older people feel very contaminated by what happened. My parishioners tell me their faith is safe, but that they are extremely hurt and confused. Confused is the word I hear most. They are extremely supportive of priests on the ground, but anger is articulated to me privately. There is huge confusion and disappointment. I have had parishioners asking me should they have demonstrations. I tell them: only the victims can call for rallies. It will be the victims who make that decision.
There is already a missing generation in the church. My parishioners are old. Whenever I do a wedding, I think: where are these young people on a Sunday morning? The young generation was gone already from the church, but all this will accelerate it further.
We’ll be dealing with this for the rest of my lifetime, and for generations after me. There is no quick fix.
The contracts of trust are gone. We’ll have to be a very different church. The church that encouraged secrecy and deceit – that will all have to be flushed out. The future church will be a very small church, a very shrunken church.
Would I have joined the priesthood if I had known what lay ahead for the church in Ireland? That’s impossible to answer. I wouldn’t even attempt to answer. I did what I did. I believed at the time what I was doing was right.
