In 1979, the vast majority of Irish families – at least for the sake of appearances – took their cues from the Catholic Church: heterosexual couples raised their children within the framework of life-long marriages and there was very little tolerance or support for anyone who strayed outside that norm. There was no contraception and no divorce. Homosexual relationships and abortion were secret and illegal. Feminism was just an f word; religious and cultural diversity were almost invisible; nobody spoke of child abuse; and sex and childbirth outside wedlock were sources of secret shame, treated with all the stigma that right-thinking people felt they deserved. Ireland was full of institutions, designed to keep such misfits and their “illegitimate” children out of sight.
So, how much has changed? In today’s Ireland, Mary McAleese encounters a hugely diverse spectrum of families, from whose experiences, supportiveness, compassion, love and tolerance she believes the Catholic Church could learn a lot. But are there also still lessons and values that 21st century Irish families could learn from the Catholic Church?
Traditional family patterns still dominate in today’s Ireland, but new and more diverse family types are not only on the rise, but increasingly accepted without prejudice. Among the families Mary McAleese meets in this programme are the Breathnach’s and their 11 children, in An Rinn, Co. Waterford; the remarried and ‘blended’ Thorburn family, in Skerries; Brandon Martin and his gay foster parents, in Athy; the Catholic multi-cultural Phiri family, in Carlow; and Carol Lennon, in Louth, who had a child ‘out of wedlock’ as a teenager, before later marrying the father and having four more children.
Maria Jansson didn’t fit the Catholic stereotype. She was raised Catholic, but in what we used, quaintly, to call “a mixed family”, by her Irish Catholic mother and Swedish Lutheran dad. It made her aware, even back in the 1960s and 70s, of families that didn’t fit the mould. When, as a teacher, she later saw colleagues hiding their homosexuality or single parenthood to keep their jobs, it inspired a commitment to social justice that led her to convert and pursue a career in ministry. She’s now the Anglican Dean of Waterford… not that she thinks the Church of Ireland is immune from misogyny.
Between all these encounters, Mary McAleese talks to Archbishop Diarmuid Martin, to the Bishop of Limerick, Brendan Leahy, and to Presentation Sister Grace McKernan, the last teaching sister in Munster, about the Catholic Church’s changing relationship with families in Ireland. Sociologist Prof. Tom Inglis, who studied Irish families for decades, also offers his take on what has happened to both the family and the Catholic Church.
The secular modernity that swept across the western world in the 1960s and 70s was slow to take hold in a new Irish republic, dominated by the Catholic Church. However, free education, north and south of the border, often in Church-run schools, gradually equipped a generation of children to question, challenge and even ignore the authority of the Catholic Church and, above all, to make choices about their lives and lifestyles. From the 1990s, a litany of clerical scandals then shocked the nation, causing many to lose, if not their faith, then certainly their unconditional trust in, and deference towards, the institutional Church and its leadership.
And yet, according to the 2016 census, 78% still identified as Catholic and the speed with which tickets to see the Pope were snapped up suggests that Ireland remains a far from secular place. So, how Catholic is Ireland, and Catholic how? There are many Irish people for whom the moral and social teachings of the Roman Catholic Church are simply irrelevant, and even many practising believers make ‘à la carte’ choices about sex before marriage, contraception, gay relationships, IVF, abortion and divorce. While some regard this as a liberation, others see it as moral decline, hoping that Pope Francis’ visit will reinvigorate the Catholic Church and its influence in Ireland. But is that likely?
Today, Ireland has, in many ways, become more like other European countries. More than 100,000 people have legally divorced and enthusiastic majorities voted in favour of same sex marriage and abortion. The availability of contraception and the changing career expectations of women have seen our families shrink. In fact, the cost of living – especially housing – means that two working parents is now as much an economic necessity as a feminist right, with parents of both genders struggling and juggling to achieve that elusive “work-life balance.”
In many respects, Sadie and Pádraig Breathnach were an archetypal Catholic couple when they went to see Pope John Paul II in 1979. The contraceptive ban was no burden to the two young teachers, because they wanted a big family, and they got one, raising their 11 children in Ann Rinn, Co Waterford. Sadie gave up her job and the children all grew up loving their large family, while also aware of the sacrifices their parents were making. Sadie and Pádraig did their best to pass on their faith and values to the next generation, but none of their children has replicated their own large family. Pádraig still goes to mass every week, while Sadie doesn’t have to go to church to find God. She’s also glad that the stigma and shame once meted out to those who stepped outside the Church’s rules are now things of the past.
Carol Lennon grew up in a single parent family in Drimnagh with her siblings and mother, Geraldine Halpin. Carol became pregnant as a teenager, but wasn’t able to marry her boyfriend, Anthony, until five years later. They then had another four children, who have all been diagnosed with autism and, as a family, they have struggled financially and emotionally, with little support from either Church or State. Mary is not surprised to discover there’s little attachment to the institutional Church, even if both Carol and Geraldine remain deeply spiritual.
Kate and Paul Thorburn live in Skerries, North Co. Dublin, with their children, Tiernan and Layla, Kate’s eldest son from a previous relationship, Patrick, and occasionally Paul’s son from his previous marriage, Nathaniel. Kate and Paul couldn’t marry in church, because Paul had been married previously, but they preferred a humanist ceremony anyway. That said, all their children were baptised, mainly to ensure that they got into the local Catholic school.
One major change since the first papal visit is that ease of travel and increased prosperity have not only allowed Irish people to travel more overseas, but brought economic immigrants here. 12% of the population were born outside Ireland and Irish people have unprecedented experience of other cultures. Margaret Phiri grew up on a farm near Athy and met her husband, Ignatius, while working in Zimbabwe. But they share a deep Catholic faith, which they are determined to pass on to their three children Ellen, Ruth and John.
Irish society’s attitude towards the LGBTQI community has changed dramatically over the last 39 years and Mary McAleese believes the Catholic Church is lagging far behind secular society on this issue. Having campaigned for gay rights for decades – not in spite of her Catholic convictions, but because of them – she was hurt by the airbrushing of gay people and relationships from the World Meeting of Families’ promotional materials. She strongly believes the Pope needs to reform Church teaching on this issue. She meets Vivian Cummins, who found it hard to grow up as a young gay man in 1960s Ireland, never dreaming he’d have his own family. However, he eventually married South African diplomat, Erney Breytenbach, and together they have fostered Brandon Martin for the last 13 years. They want to be judged on the quality of their parenting, not their sexuality, while Brandon, now 18, is simply indifferent to the moral teaching of the Catholic Church.
While the Catholic Church’s influence on Irish society has faded considerably, Mary McAleese believes the Pope would be much mistaken, if he thinks he is coming to a secular country. She concludes that a humbler, more inclusive Church could still have a significant role to play in our society, as we grapple with the challenges and pressures of modern Irish life. However, the Catholic Church could first learn much from the diversity, inclusiveness, solidarity, supportiveness and love that exists in so many Irish families of all types. The importance of family in Irish lives is as strong as ever.