My mother loved Knock. She died last October. So when I was asked to speak on the last day of the annual novena in Knock my first thought was about her reaction had she been alive. I agreed to speak, but not without some trepidation at the thought of addressing two groups of 5,000 people. What on earth would I say? And would they all be of my mother's generation?
Knock Shrine was a revelation. The extensive grounds are peaceful and immaculately maintained, with no sign of the tacky souvenir stalls found in the main street.
My family and I stayed in the new and inexpensive Knock House Hotel. Designed by the same architect who planned the Apparition Chapel, Polish-born Andrzej Wejchert, the hotel is a sweeping curve of Irish limestone around the hill on which the basilica is built.
A huge window behind the reception desk frames a view of the basilica. But it is not just the superb design. The people who work there display an ethos of care we found everywhere in the shrine.
Nor was the age profile what I expected. In the afternoon there were rows and rows of sick and elderly, but right at the back were lots of parents with kids in their arms. At night the age profile moved dramatically downwards. Sure, there were thousands of older people, but many families with children and even a healthy sprinkling of twentysomethings.
The nerves I had felt at addressing such huge groups subsided when the truth hit me. Nobody was there to hear me. The real core of the shrine is prayer, and providing a reflective space for all the worries and needs of the human heart. It succeeds in that beautifully. Perhaps that is why it may as well not exist in the eyes of the media.
Compare the amount of coverage given by this newspaper to summer schools where only a few hundred people attend with the perfunctory coverage given to Knock where 10,000 people a day come.
I can see my colleagues saying wearily: "But no news is made at Knock." I disagree. The news in Knock is the phenomenon of 10,000 people a day at the novena, and 1.5 million a year going there to pray.
If Knock experienced a dramatic downturn in numbers it would probably generate a feature article by a curious and not unsympathetic reporter. So long as it continues to thrive, it will remain virtually invisible in Ireland as framed by the media. It just does not fit the current "dying on its feet" profile of religion so favoured by commentators.
Likewise with the commentary on World Youth Day. When did 2.1 million people last convene in Europe for anything benign? As a phenomenon alone it deserves study. But because it is filed in some compartment marked religion, it is rated about 14th in the items on most RTE news bulletins, and lower than that in most newspapers.
RTE will no doubt say it covered hours of the Mass in Tor Vergata, but would it have done so if it were on at six in the evening instead of fitting neatly into the God slot on Sunday morning? The celebration on Saturday evening in Rome which was a vivid illustration of a church at ease and using modern technology to communicate was almost completely ignored by the media here.
Again, World Youth Day does not fit the preferred profile of a church in terminal decline. Certainly the numbers were small from Ireland, but interestingly there were huge numbers there from allegedly post-Christian France. Could it be that a generation in France reared largely in an atmosphere of indifference to the church has fewer barriers to belief and so is curious about and open to faith?
Early on in his pontificate, the Pope's appeal was explained away by his physical dynamism, his actor's delivery of lines. So how does a shuffling, frail old man hold thousands of young people riveted now? Not by pandering to them and patronising them, certainly. He constantly reiterated to them that being a Christian was not going to be easy. Then he told them to have courage, to support each other and to read the Gospels constantly.
Market research would indicate that such a message would be a total loser. Perhaps it is because the Pope does not give a damn about market research that he succeeds in reaching young people.
The Irish media's picture of the Pope as an arch-conservative is extraordinarily narrow. In our current climate, young people are seen as a market, as units in an economy. The strongest criticism of the excesses of capitalism comes from John Paul.
One of the major reasons that John Paul convenes these huge meetings is that he is aware of a soundbite culture that shies away from deeper questions. When people gather to hear him, even if there are thousands present, he can address his message at length to each individual. Ultimately then, does it matter if the media are indifferent or even hostile to matters religious? No and yes. No, because having faith was never supposed to win you prizes in a popularity contest, and there was something unhealthy in an Ireland of years ago in which the media were completely uncritical of the dominant church.
Yes, it matters, if a lack of coverage or engagement by the media causes a loss of confidence among Christians, if they begin to internalise the message that religion has no place in the public sphere in modern Ireland.
Despite the flaws and abuses of religion, it remains the place where most people learn a concern for justice and a degree of social responsibility. It is not so easy to invent a morality to replace one which has been organically entwined with Irish culture for hundreds of years.
Part of that internalised lack of self-confidence is visible in the Irish church. At Knock ritual addresses people's concerns, offers space for reflection, and an assurance that there is a God who cares.
How many Sunday Masses could make that claim? Beauty and ritual are human needs, and the Irish church often seems to forget that. In Knock people who just come to use the caravan park and who have no interest in religion often find themselves taking part in the candlelight procession because it is beautiful and symbolic.
The Pope knows all about that, too. Walking though a door which will not be opened until the next Jubilee year with young people from the five continents is a compelling symbol. It proclaims without words a powerful message: that this old man is handing on to the future the most precious gifts he has - faith, hope and love.