By Msgr. Noel C. Burtenshaw

(Msgr. Burtenshaw recently paid a visit to Ireland and has written a three-part series on the economy, on the Church, and on violence in that nation. The following is part 2.)

Bishop Cahal Daly, outspoken Bishop of the Irish Diocese of Ardagh, put it like this: "The Church in Ireland at this precise time in history stands on a threshold that is both exciting and frightening."

Perhaps the Bishop's concerns could be summed up in the following real life instances.

Ron Halpin lives in one of Dublin's select suburbs. Neither Ron nor his Wife, Rita, nor their two little girls go to Sunday Mass. When asked for a reason, Ron, who is a doctor, cannot give one. "It just seems like a waste of time. I work hard, every young doctor in Ireland has to, and getting up to go and be at something that is not very meaningful just seems like a waste of time."

Ron admits that some of his friends go regularly to Sunday Mass and others do not. "Certainly," says the young doctor, "it is not like my parents' time. To have missed Mass years ago would have been the talk of the neighborhood. Now that pressure is not there. No one takes any notice."

The writer of this article, through the invitation of the pastor of a downtown Dublin church, had the opportunity to concelebrate Sunday Mass in the open air for a special parish celebration. About 100 people attended the special neighborhood celebration, held at 10:00 a.m. The overall majority of those in attendance were old and young women, and smaller children. Only a few men attended, and no teens.

A parish social worker afterwards freely admitted that in this working class area, few younger men attend Mass, and very often the teenage years mean the end of participation by the youth. "It often seems like the Church in Italy or France," said this parish worker. "Religion is for the women and the babies."

Despite these scenes of Sunday morning laxity, a survey taken by the Bishops of Ireland five years ago shows that over ninety percent of those calling themselves Catholic do go to Mass every Sunday.

This "visible sign of decline" is being watched by many, some of whom are beginning to speak out on the subject.

Father Frank Gallagher has written a notable article which he called “Atheism -- Irish Style" which says that while most Catholics in Ireland do go to Mass on Sunday, even the young singles and the marrieds, many are disenchanted with the externals of Church life. This disenchantment, contends Jesuit Father Gallagher, will lead to abandonment of the Church if it's not healed. "Already in almost every community," says Father Gallagher, "parents, teachers and priests are aware of increasing numbers of young people for whom traditional religion makes little sense."

"I must say," comments the Jesuit writer, "I am pessimistic about the quantity of active Catholics in Ireland over the next 10 years. But, at the same time, I am optimistic about the quality of those who will continue to go. And here is the reason. Those who continue to believe and practice will need a greater degree of explicit Christian commitment than in previous generations."

However, not all spells doom for the Church on the Irish scene. Vocations to the priesthood and some orders of sisters are becoming increasingly more numerous. "They were down for some years, says Father Kenny, "but now they are back. But they are back in a different way."

"Ireland was renowned," says the young Dublin priest, "for vocations to foreign mission colleges and communities. Well, these traditional centers of vocations are now not getting the numbers. All Hallows College in Dublin, which until 20 or even 15 years ago, had a student body of some 300 all destined for the missions, now has merely 45 students in the entire college. They are not getting the candidates."

"The Holy Rosary Sisters, which over the years had a waiting list of candidates to train for Africa, only received one applicant last year. By the way, this same order today gets most of their candidates from Africa."

"For the most part, Irish vocations are now opting to remain in Ireland," continues Father Joe Kenny. "Maybe we are beginning to realize that while training men and women to take the good news and the renewal message of the Church to other lands, we forgot the needs at home. We are certainly delighted that here in Dublin our seminary is once more filling each year with candidates. And they come from all walks of the economic life of our city and diocese. It gives us a lot of hope."

The hope which this young priest sees is being spoken of in many areas of the gigantic Dublin diocese. In this city of almost two million where a decline in Sunday Mass attendance is visible, pockets of priests and religious are beginning to live in community in inner-city parishes. They have dedicated themselves to greater involvement in better housing for the poor, adult training for jobs and soup kitchens for the needy.

Writing in the Irish Press, Religious Affairs Correspondent T. P. O'Mahony says, "There have been signs in recent times of a new quest, and a new response to that quest, for deeper spiritual values."

Bishop Daly, speaking to a gathering of Ireland's priests last year, said that this quest and this response must continue in every corner of Ireland because "the reality of our time is that Protestants and Catholics are partners in a common struggle for the soul and mind and heart of man against atheistic humanism."

The struggle is in full swing in the life of the Irish Church.

(Next week: Violence in Ireland.)