Catholic church

Jack Valero is the press officer for Opus Dei in the United Kingdom. Plainly, his tweet is made in a personal capacity but it's not really so far removed form the kind of talk one hears from the Vatican these days. It is hysterical stuff and hysteria is not the best preparation for winnning arguments. In one sense, sure, gay marriage is quite a large shift but it is also the case that extending civil recognition to homosexual unions is not really such a mammoth change at all. It is, moreover, a logical consequence of the decriminalisation of homosexuality. It is a recognition of commitment, humanity and dignity. Why should catholics, however strict, be afraid of that?

As you know, I'm not much of a Fianna Fail fan. But if there's any Irish institution that outperforms the ghastliness of the Soldiers of Destiny it's the Catholic Church. Here's the latest reminder of that: A letter to Ireland's Roman Catholic bishops has been revealed by the broadcaster RTE that contradicts the Vatican's frequent claim it has never instructed clergy to withhold evidence or suspicion of child abuse from police. The 1997 letter documents rejection of a 1996 Irish church initiative to help police identify paedophile priests.

Lord knows, in matters such as these the Catholic church can enforce it's own disciplinary regime. But, really, didn't this particular horse bolt some time ago? An Irish Catholic priest has been banned by the Vatican from publishing any more of his writings after he suggested homosexuality is “simply a facet of the human condition”. This follows an article on homosexuality by Capuchin priest Fr Owen O’Sullivan, published in last March’s edition of the Furrow magazine. Described as “a journal for the contemporary Church”, the Furrow is published at St Patrick’s College Maynooth. [...

Since it's Pope Day, let's consider this tediously-hardy perennial too. Commenting on this post, Fifer asks: Since you've given this some thought, then, perhaps you can answer me this - why, exactly, are my taxes being used to fund an education system divided in Scotland on sectarian lines when, out of a population of 5 million, only 65,000 can be bothered turning up to see the head of their faith preach? Even Celtic can manage that turnout a few times a year. If we really are in the dire financial straits we're told we are, perhaps it really is time to "think of the children" and educate them all as best we possibly can for the money available, rather than perpetuating massive structural inefficiencies as a sop to an increasingly irrelevant religion.

The least surprising thing about the latest revelations of the Irish Catholic Church's complicity in thousands of cases of horrific child abuse is that almost none of it is surprising at all. Shocking, yes, but not surprising. Even those of us with an appropriately cynical view of the Chuch, mind you, can only marvel at the breathtaking mendacity displayed by the Church. The Archbishop of Tuam, Michael Neary, says he is " mindful of the perceived hollowness of repeated apologies" and he has a point. Because until they were caught, the Church displayed no remorse whatsoever.

Carol Sarler may be correct to argue, as she does in this week's edition of the magazine, that we have an unhealthy fascination with sex crimes that is both prurient and puritanical. But I'd suggest that, whatever the merits of her wider argument, she doesn't know very much about Ireland: In Ireland, some 2,000 adults who gave evidence of assault at the hands of Roman Catholic priests and nuns are, probably correctly, spitting tacks. The inquiry into their treatment when in children’s institutions has ruled that, although they did indeed suffer, no charges may be brought, no names shamed and, for what it’s worth, no bank balances swollen by damages sucked from the Vatican’s already depleted coffers.