ON Good Friday, the Archbishop of Dublin, Dr Connell, offered a humble apology to the Irish people. He was sorry for hurting us, sorry for the scandals, for the harshness, intolerance, insensitivity, and misunderstanding of recent years.
The archbishop had said "sorry" before, but this time the words were unqualified - and personal. At a traditional time of reconciliation, he chose to go the extra mile.
"I want to reach out to all who have felt this kind of hurt and to express my sorrow for hurt I have caused." The words were simple and heartfelt. Dr Connell asked for reconciliation between him and us, between the church and its people. It is a sign of profound change, which may herald private discussions with some of the people who have been most hurt by the actions of individual priests.
That same morning, a woman with a heart condition and an untidy house phoned the Marian Finucane Show with Clare McKeon to ask for spiritual guidance.
A panel of feng shui "experts" was on call, pontificating on a plethora of ostensibly minor matters, such as why hanging mirrors in the wrong place could impede your spiritual and physical health. The woman was worried. Understandably so. Years of medical prescriptions and low-fat food, when it might have been the mirrors all along.
"The heart would be affected by the internal clutter of the house," one expert opined. Therefore, this woman should immediately get her house in order. According to feng shui, a single badly-positioned chair may blight your path to wisdom; blocked drains indicate spiritual confusion; toilet lids left open send negative spiritual energies rushing through the house faster than a Melissa virus.
This was not aesthetics, it was medicine and salvation rolled into one. Good Friday took on a whole new spin.
Although Irish society may be less rigidly Catholic than 10 years ago, it is no less interested in "spiritual" health. While the influence of the Catholic Church has been waning, a whole range of pretenders has rushed to fill its place. Instead of Jesus, what is on offer are crystals, I Ching, astrology, numerology, the Chinese compass, reiki, flotation therapy, bioenergetics, divining, rebirthing, past life regression, aromatherapy, Tibetan bells, singing bowls and temple cymbals. Failing them, there's always television, shopping or the garden centre.
THERE is a historical association between economic prosperity and increased devotional practice. The issue is the direction which Irish spirituality will take. The choice is more complex than a simple one between Jesus and feng shui. Archbishop Connell's words indicate the possible return to another strand of opinion and belief within the Catholic Church. It is the option for the poor, that sense of the church as a radical advocate for justice and equality.
His words imply a renewal of a church which measures its rituals in terms of their relevance to the community it serves. At its broadest, these hopes are close to the tone of the old Irish church, one based firmly in the community.
If so, his remarks are timely. Popular culture is entranced by ideas of Celtic spirituality, from community practices such as the visiting of holy wells to the more theologically based writings which topped the best-seller list in books like John O'Donoghue's Anam Cara.
That sense of connectedness predates both Catholic Emancipation in 1829 and the French Revolution, events which changed the church's role in Ireland and worldwide. The former saw the rise of that emerging Catholic middle class. The latter was one measure of the Vatican's new role as a global force where uniformity of religious practice became increasingly important, rather than the unity-in-diversity which characterised medieval times.
Writing shortly before the Pope's visit in 1979, the Rev Prof Liam Ryan proposed a role for the church as "the conscience of society" and as "an instrument of social renewal". His theology caught the spirit of the liberation movement which had galvanised the church in South America, a place where many Irish nuns and priests had chosen to work.
But the success of the Pope's visit had a very different consequence. Instead of fostering its role as conscience, the church reasserted its earlier position as law-enforcer. This appeal to dogmatic instincts won some early success for its proponents. Yet when priests themselves were exposed as law-breakers, the church was hoist with its own petard: those who make rules are supposed to keep them. Or to own up when they don't.
Between 1994 and 1998, prime years for the growth of the economy, weekly Mass attendance dropped by 17 per cent to 60 per cent, with the lowest rates in the most economically deprived areas, as last year's Prime Time survey showed.
Within five years, attendance will probably come close to the mid-19th century estimate of an average 35 per cent - only with the development of a Catholic middle class did 19th-century Mass attendance rise to its turn-of-the-century high of some 90 per cent. In Europe, average weekly Mass attendance runs at approximately 15 per cent.
MANY of the church's official statements and actions over the last decade have undercut its status as an advocate for social justice.
The work of agencies like CORI, which sponsors policy and research on the caring and equality agendas, continued throughout the years of scandal and authoritarianism, but fell increasingly on deaf ears.
Despite its articulate and informed work, the Minister for Finance, Mr McCreevy, felt sufficiently comfortable to name aspects of the caring agenda as "the poverty industry", at a time when every available measure showed that the gap between rich and poor in Ireland had never been wider. In the hands of a journalist, this would be termed a hatchet job.
Last week's CORI conference on "Social Partnership in a New Century" argued that growth in the caring community is at least as important as growth in the economy. This is a practical way of fostering the public values of gentleness, tolerance, sensitivity and understanding implied by Archbishop Connell's words.
Such a mission does not imply any reduction in authority. Quite the contrary. The caring community is not a place for wimps. It is not a collective of touchie-feelie loonies. It is about commitment to human dignity, whatever people's income or lifestyle. In that sense, the official church may begin to earn the respect it used to expect as an automatic right, just as individual priests and nuns working in marginalised communities have already done.
