Lay leadership can transform Catholic Church

On our emerald isle, where saints once walked and monasteries flourished like clover patches, the Catholic Church isn't dying - it's evolving. What some might mistake for institutional decline is, in fact, the birth pangs of something more sustainable, more inclusive, but still familiar.

Each morning across Ireland, increasingly spry septuagenarians rise from their beds and journey faithfully toward altars they've tended for decades. These men, once part of a robust army of the cloth, now represent the last battalion of a spiritual force that once conquered continents. But these ministries are no longer simply the domain of collar-wearing men. Church leadership is being reimagined through the involvement of the laity - women and men who feel called to serve their communities in new ways.

According to the Association of Catholic Priests, 15% of Ireland's remaining priests are over 75 and still working - presumably because celestial retirement benefits remain unclear - while a mere 2.5% are under 40. Once bursting with 500 eager young men in starched collars, the seminary at Maynooth now hosts just 20 seminarians. But rather than signalling an end, these figures represent a transition.

The mathematics is as brutal as it is straightforward: in the Clogher diocese alone, 37 parishes with 85 churches are served by 58 priests, half of whom collect pension benefits on the side. 

"What we see now is priests in their mid to late seventies trying to run three parishes," explains Father Tony Flannery, who at 76 is what passes for a spring chicken in today's Irish clergy.

The reasons for this clerical drought are as numerous as they are predictable. Fr Flannery points to the Church's unwillingness to align with contemporary values. 

"It's hard enough getting young people to go to mass," he notes, "and even more so when it is conducted by an 85-year-old."

The sexual abuse scandals have certainly accelerated this decline, though the decay was well underway before those horrors surfaced. Our modern world's obsession with "consumerism and materialism" leaves precious little space for contemplating the divine while scrolling through Instagram. Young Irish people, it seems, would prefer to swipe right instead of genuflect.

But where numbers decline, opportunity arises. A perfect example unfolded at St Muredach's Cathedral in Ballina recently where a spirit of joy and purpose filled the sanctuary as 64 laypeople from across the Diocese of Killala received their certificates in Lay Leadership. Having completed a two-year study course in Theology, Culture, and Ministry, which included parish placements, these graduates represent the future of parish leadership.

The ceremony, presided over by Archbishop Francis Duffy, marked the culmination of a formation journey designed to equip lay leaders with the skills and pastoral experience needed to co-lead ministry at parish level. This initiative was born out of the diocesan synodal listening process 'Placing Hope in Faith', which began in 2017 and which Pope Francis has invited all dioceses to undertake.

Many of these graduates are now engaged in co-leading funeral liturgies, offering compassionate support to grieving families, and ensuring that every parish has a team of well-trained ministers ready to serve. The course, under the direction of Dr Michael Gilroy and the Newman Institute, represents a concrete expression of the synodal vision that Pope Francis continues to encourage - one where laypeople and clergy journey together, sharing responsibility.

Similar initiatives are emerging across Ireland. Rather than importing clergy from Africa and India - a pragmatic but perhaps temporary solution some dioceses have attempted - the focus increasingly falls on preparing the laity for meaningful parish roles.

What's clear is that the Irish Church is experiencing not merely a crisis but a transformation. The institution that once dominated Irish life from the cradle to the grave is reinventing itself through necessity rather than choice. The faithful will indeed need to become more faithful than ever - not just to beliefs but to practical responsibilities once managed exclusively by men in collars.

For centuries, we Irish exported priests across the globe like spiritual Guinness, nourishing Catholic communities from Boston to Brisbane. Now, as the taps run dry at home, the remaining faithful face an unpalatable choice: adapt or watch two millennia of tradition dissolve like a communion wafer on the tongue. Perhaps what we're witnessing isn't death but metamorphosis - the Church not ending but changing form. Today's challenges call for creative responses, and the faithful are answering.

This moment of crisis for the Catholic Church in Ireland mirrors previous transformative periods in its long history. As one of the world's oldest and largest international institutions, the Church has demonstrated remarkable adaptability over two millennia. The most dramatic parallel might be the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s, which wrought the most dynamic changes to Catholic practices since the Council of Trent four centuries earlier. This precedent suggests that profound transformation, while painful, is not without historical context.

For we lay Catholics, such a metamorphosis causes a profound shift in our relationship with the institution. The diminishing presence of priests requires the faithful to step beyond traditional passive roles into active leadership. This aligns with existing Church teachings that recognise lay people are "active in liturgical and pastoral ministries for building up the Church" and that they "perform leadership and management functions for the Church".

Across Ireland, the bells still ring each Sunday. While fewer hear them than in decades past, those who respond are increasingly taking ownership of their faith communities. The Irish Catholic Church isn't fading into history - it's being reborn through the commitment of ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

The traditional model of parish life - one priest, one parish - may indeed be passing. But in its place, something potentially more vibrant is emerging: communities of active participants rather than passive recipients, sharing responsibility for nurturing the faith that has sustained the Irish people through centuries of challenge and change.

This builds upon centuries of tradition, as preaching by the laity has been established in various forms since at least 1200. Perhaps most significantly, the development of home-based faith communities that gather between infrequent sacramental celebrations will help maintain Catholic identity and practice, reimagining religious education to help individuals discover the richness of the Irish religious practice.

The Church in Ireland stands at a crossroads where either innovation will prevail or tradition - at least in its current form - will be subject to intense scrutiny. This transformation represents not just a pragmatic response to the clerical shortage but potentially a return to earlier models of the Christian community where the distinction between clergy and laity was less pronounced. Whether this constitutes evolution or decline depends largely on how successfully the laity embraces this responsibility and how willingly the institutional Church shares its authority.

The bells still ring, but fewer hear them. The candles still burn but cast longer shadows. And the faithful - those who remain - prepare for a future where faith itself must become more muscular, participatory, and responsible. As an optimist, I believe the Irish Catholic Church isn't dying; it's being reborn. As these newly trained leaders step into their roles across our Diocese, they deserve our support and gratitude. The Catholic Church in Ireland isn't facing last rites - it's experiencing resurrection.