Church's mission statement set out at the ordination of a natural leader

By Ronan Mullen

If you were passing their church last Sunday morning you would have seen them celebrate a rather unusual event.

Outside they had placed a large marquee for relaying a ceremony to the crowd and for refreshments afterwards.

The church itself and its grounds were in perfect condition, as you would expect for the arrival of a celebrity. A carnival atmosphere prevailed.

As I said, the event won't feature in Hello. It was not a celebrity wedding.

But a recent edition of Time magazine did record that "in Ireland this year, only one Jesuit priest, Fr Tony O'Riordan from Co Cork, will be ordained."

Sunday's event in Cooldorrihy was the first Mass celebrated by Fr O'Riordan after his ordination.

"At least he believes in God" was Time's sole comment on Fr O'Riordan's career choice, before featuring a Danish pastor who has publicly announced that he doesn't believe in God.

A similar announcement from Fr O'Riordan is not expected.

He is 33 years of age and has spent ten years within the Jesuit Order studying and working in homeless hostels and prisons.

I have known him for nearly 15 years, since our student days together in University College, Galway.

He is charismatic, warm and tough a leader of people.

Fr O'Riordan's celebration was similar in ways to a wedding.

There was the big gathering, the congratulations, the fanfare, the grand entrance and the band.

But Tony O'Riordan cut his cake alone.

Some felt sad about that until they remembered his family and friends and all his Jesuit brothers gathered there with him.

They also realised that Fr O'Riordan (and here I mean no disrespect to Christian denominations who organise their affairs differently) could not possibly follow God in this way if he had a wife and children.

Yes, he would have made a good husband and father, but that is exactly the point.

God doesn't choose priests because they are good for nothing else.

He chooses them because they are men with the capacity to love. In a much-loved Jesuit phrase, they should be 'men for others.'

Why did Tony O'Riordan choose this way of life? "There is no reward," Fr Peter McVerry told the congregation in Cooldorrihy.

"In time, all the gifts Tony has received will be returned to God health, intelligence, even one day life itself, all must be given back except one gift. That gift is the gift of the infinite and unconditional love of God.

"Why does Tony follow Jesus as a priest," Fr McVerry asked, "committed to the poor and marginalised like the God whom he serves?

"Gratitude, gratitude to the Giver of the Gifts, gratitude for being loved.

The more that he grows in gratitude to the Giver of the Gifts, the more he will be motivated to reach out to God's suffering children; and the more he reaches out to God's children, the closer they will lead him to the God to whom he owes everything."

Why can't all preaching be like this?

In a few sentences McVerry revealed the church's nuclear weapon the thing that can see it prevail despite the corruption of some of its clergy, the incompetence of many of its leaders and the discouragement of so many of its members.

The church's strongest card is the one it plays least the message that people are loved by God and that they should respond with gratitude.

That does not mean that church leaders should mouth pious platitudes without making substantial changes in the way things are done.

On the contrary, this message cannot be successfully proclaimed unless there is radical change in the Irish church in everything from the way Masses are said to the way people are appointed to positions of responsibility.

One couple I spoke to after Sunday's ceremony were very impressed at the way Fr O'Riordan encouraged very young children to pray during the ceremony.

But they are appalled by the failure of many priests, trained in a different era admittedly, to connect with lay people in their parishes.

One priest visited their house and commented, "We don't see you down at the church that much."

In fact, the couple attend Mass weekly with their children, although not always in their parish church. They like the priest in question, and were glad to be visited by him.

But they shudder at the impact that his comments are having in other houses. "He should have come to invite, not criticise, us.

Maybe he should have asked how the church could be of service to us, or how our talents could be of assistance in the parish."

Some priests may resent this criticism, and argue that the sooner lay people start knocking on doors themselves, the better. They are right.

But people need to see that the church leadership is genuinely interested in their contribution.

At the moment they see bishops engaging in systems management, cutting down on the number of priests and Masses in each parish, as though that was a way to prepare for a future shortage of priests.

But isn't it time to have a Sunday when the pews are removed from the churches, and people are invited to gather around in groups while they are properly consulted?

And instead of always telling people that "young people are the future of the church," its leaders should be considering the provision of Sunday school to assist families in bringing up their children as Christians.

Above all, the church should be inviting people personally, rather than exhorting them from the pulpit, to become more involved.

Even bigger changes may be needed.

In a provocative new book, 'The End of Irish Catholicism?' (published by Veritas), Maynooth theologian Fr Vincent Twomey argues for a process of 'pre-evangelisation' before the Church can speak to people again about faith.

He suggests a reduction in the number of dioceses and diocesan bishops, and for the redrawing of parish boundaries.

But he fears "the numbing force of 'tradition' Irish-style, namely a dour and silent clinging to the status quo in the name of a 'realism' that is often mere pragmatism, and in the name of local loyalties that are parochial in the worst sense of the term."

Twomey also notes the lack of "rich, critical theological tradition" in Ireland, and suggests this could be the reason for weak and uninspiring religious materials in schools.

He stresses the importance of good liturgy and careful preparation for Mass.

But he also calls for new forms of public devotions "geared to young men in particular, where they could experience the church addressing their specific questions, offering them new challenges and restoring their sense of direction and hope."

You could do worse than send a copy of Twomey's book to your local parish priest or bishop.

Because as much as the church needs men like Tony O'Riordan in the priesthood, it needs committed lay people to carry out its mission in the world.