Aoife Cassidy: Why haven't more parents withdrawn children from First Holy Communion? 

'I would love to see religious instruction and preparation for the sacraments moved to an extracurricular activity.'
Aoife Cassidy: Why haven't more parents withdrawn children from First Holy Communion? 

'Every day at the school gates, I am greeted with tales of 8am hair appointments, houses being painted, gardens being landscaped and planted, caterers being booked, dresses being altered.'

Our family is unremarkable in all ways but one. Our children attend the local Catholic school but do not participate in religion, including the sacraments.

There are probably families all over the country who, like us, have opted out of religious education but in our community, we are very much the exception to the rule. 

Our Communion-age children have both been one of only two children in their class who did not take part.

Over the last few weeks, I noted the widespread outrage over the National Maternity Hospital and the proposed transfer of ownership of it, as well as shock and horror over the leak of a draft US Supreme Court judgment suggesting that Roe v Wade, the seminal judgment in the US that enshrined abortion as a constitutional right, is likely to be overturned imminently.

So I ask myself, why don’t more people opt out of religion and the sacraments in Ireland? A cultural attachment to the big day? A fear of their child being left out? A fear of offending or upsetting the grandparents? A genuine faith? 

The latter is the least likely, in my opinion, given how few of my peers attend regular weekly Mass with their families.

Leaving aside the reasons for opting out for a moment, First Holy Communion season is in full swing this month. 

Every day at the school gates, I am greeted with tales of 8am hair appointments, houses being painted, gardens being landscaped and planted, caterers being booked, dresses being altered.

Why don’t more people opt out of religion and the sacraments in Ireland? A cultural attachment to the big day? A fear of their child being left out?
Why don’t more people opt out of religion and the sacraments in Ireland? A cultural attachment to the big day? A fear of their child being left out?

The children in my son’s class are spending hours at the local church learning when to sit, stand, kneel, walk and sing – most don’t attend Mass so aren’t familiar with etiquette. 

Hours of schooltime are spent preparing artwork to wallpaper the church for this one-day-only show of faith. 

Meanwhile, my son sits at the back of the Church or the classroom, reading his Diary of a Wimpy Kid novel.

I was baptised, taught by the Presentation nuns, and made my Communion and Confirmation, but sometime during secondary school, it occurred to me that I didn’t actually believe in any of it. 

I lived and worked in Germany in my 20s and drifted further from my tenuous faith. 

My husband had a more traditional Irish Catholic upbringing, attending Mass regularly, not just on Sunday but on so-called holy days of obligation. 

When we met, he had a reasonably strong faith, and we married in a Catholic Church. I respected his faith, even if I didn’t share it. 

His faith has however evaporated in recent years. His lightbulb moment came in 2017, with the discovery of the remains of hundreds of infants in a disused septic tank in Tuam, Co Galway on the site of the former Mother and Baby Home. 

The marriage equality and Repeal referenda solidified his abandonment of the church.

My husband had a more traditional Irish Catholic upbringing, attending Mass regularly, not just on Sunday but on so-called holy days of obligation. 
My husband had a more traditional Irish Catholic upbringing, attending Mass regularly, not just on Sunday but on so-called holy days of obligation. 

There are lots of people like us out there, but it would seem they are not willing or do not wish to opt their children out of religion at school. I understand that it is not an easy call.

From our perspective, it was a difficult decision to make for our eldest child, one I agonised over at the time, but since making the decision that our children would not partake in religion at school, it has been nothing but liberating. Awkward at times but liberating.

Whenever you or your child mentions that they are in 2nd Class, the automatic response from most people is: “Oh! When are you making your Communion?” 

The awkward silence that results from our response is comical. People are genuinely befuddled. 

Because we are white, Irish, traditional in most respects and middle-class, most Irish people assume we must be either Protestant or eccentric. We are neither, just proudly non-religious.

People ask me, what do you tell the children? We tell the children the truth, namely that the universe is enormous, has existed for billions of years and scientists can find no evidence that God exists. 

We tell them that science is phenomenal, and scientists are making new discoveries every day that bring us closer to understanding the world around us.

Our children so far have not felt left out. Sometimes their classmates are curious as to why they’re not taking part, and sometimes they’re oblivious, but they’re always accepting. 

We underestimate how tolerant and loving children are. 

We have six birthdays in this house, we don’t need a big day out courtesy of the Catholic Church to celebrate as a family. And for a lot of people, it is just that – a big day out. 

I mean no disrespect to anyone with genuine faith – I think the day is demeaned for those to whom it actually truly means something.

Personally, I would love to see religious instruction and preparation for the sacraments moved to an extracurricular activity – either after school midweek, or Sunday school – led by the parish and by the parents. 

It should not be the role of teachers to prepare children for something that is deeply personal and specific to every family.

I would encourage parents to reflect on their own beliefs and how they reconcile their own lack of faith with their children reciting prayers. 

I worried about the consequences of stepping away from what is an ingrained cultural practice in this country – I need not have. We are happy as we are.

Aoife Cassidy is a qualified solicitor and full-time mum of four who runs the book review page on Instagram @littlecassreads.

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