"Widać prawdziwy gniew. Ludzie postawili księży i biskupów na piedestale, a teraz są o to na siebie źli" – mówi jedna z zakonnic. Podobnie jak inni Irlandczycy toczy teraz zaciekłą walkę z tym, co kiedyś było katolicką Irlandią: z wykorzystywaniem seksualnym dzieci, tuszowaniem przestępstw, zmową z państwem, nadużywaniem władzy.
Derek Scally, wątpiący katolik, mierzy się z historią własnego kraju. Spotyka się z ofiarami, z księżmi, w tym z najbardziej znienawidzonym duchownym Irlandii, i z politykami. Pokazuje, że od samego początku Kościół w Irlandii działał jak dobrze prosperująca firma, skupująca ziemię i budująca instytucje, by uzależnić od siebie biedne społeczeństwo. Trafił na wyjątkowo podatny grunt po latach wielkiego głodu, brytyjskiej dominacji, grabieży ziemi i represji religijnych. Tym bardziej dziwi, że wystarczyło zaledwie trzydzieści lat, by doszło do jego upadku.
Najlepsi katolicy pod słońcem to pogłębiony reportaż o Kościele w Irlandii, ale także o systemowej przemocy, za którą odpowiedzialność ponosi całe społeczeństwo. Scally pokazuje kraj, który ma powody zarówno do dumy, jak i do wstydu. A przede wszystkim: kraj, który właśnie teraz wymyśla siebie na nowo, bo Irlandczycy po raz pierwszy dostali szansę, by podejść do swojej historii na własnych warunkach.
A very good book that took me some time to get through. Derek Scally is an Irish Times journalist who, while from Dublin, has long lived in Germany. He explores and reflects on the enormous rupture culturally created by the abuse scandals involving the Irish Catholic Church, with a focus on the position of the Church in Irish society before the scandals, how the widespread abuse was able to happen, and how it has (or has not) been dealt with since the revelations. Returning to his home parish, where a priest abused young women, he notes, "If the...past doesn't bother people here, who have lived with it, maybe that should be good enough for me. To my outsider's eye though, the approach here to dealing with the past resembles not dealing with it."
Scally's background, having lived so long in Germany, is especially relevant to how he frames his work, because he brings to it a sense of the tools that Germans have developed to deal with their past through the process of Vergangenheitsbewältigung (overcoming the past) - in particular a willingness to grapple on a societal level with so many people having 'known but not known but known enough' about what went on. In Ireland, he looks at the 'us and them' social mentality that, coupled with deference, first enabled abuse to take place on a large scale, and which since the uncovering of abuse has been used to characterize it as the acts of 'bad apples' in the Church, frustrating a wider social reckoning.
I really appreciated Scally's wide lens. For example, he notes the work of psychologist Dan Bar-On, who did therapy and reconciliation work with Holocaust survivors and children of Nazis , as well as working on dialogue in conflict situations around the world. Bar-On found that "all violent conflicts create zones of silence in a society," often concealing through generations the responsibilities and deeds of perpetrators, the suffering of victims, and the role of spectators. At one point, Scally mentions Canadian residential schools, which I had already been thinking about as I read. So, a book with a particular focus about which I learned a lot, but also wide application.
“Najlepsi katolicy pod słońcem” Dereka Scally’ego to reportaż przez wielkie R. Nie potrafię sobie wyobrazić książki, która dokładniej, przejrzyściej i zrozumialej dla czytelnika nieobeznanego z sytuacją Kościoła w Irlandii wytłumaczyłaby i trafnie zanalizowała przyczyny i przebieg rozpoczętego parę lat temu upadku tej instytucji.
Autor - irlandzki dziennikarz aktualnie mieszkający w Niemczech - wyczerpująco i dogłębnie przedstawia wymaganą do zrozumienia specyficznej relacji i wieloletniej kluczowej pozycji Kościoła w Irlandii historię religii jak i samego kleru w tym kraju. W związku z tym „obawiam” się, że nie jest to najlepsza książka dla osób, które gustują wyłącznie w reportażach opisujących sprawy bieżące, dziejące się tu i teraz, a od historycznej literatury faktu trzymają się z daleka. Bo część stricte historyczna jest naprawdę bardzo obszerna - Scally kilkadziesiąt stron poświęca na opisanie zarówno samym początkom chrześcijaństwa w Irlandii sięgającym V wieku jak i losom Kościoła i religii w kolejnych wiekach. Tylko, że przybliżenie i tak dawnej historii jest tutaj niezbędne. Autor jak i jego liczni rozmówcy - historycy Irlandii oraz religii - podkreślają, że ta specyficzna relacja Irlandczyków z Kościołem jest zakorzeniona już w dawnych wiekach, przez setki lat była skrupulatnie pielęgnowana i podsycana. Nie da się zrozumieć złożoności problemu irlandzkiego Kościoła nie sięgając kilkaset lat wstecz.
Znaczna część książki i tak poświęcona jest “odchodzeniu” i “odwrotowi” Irlandczyków od Kościoła. Scally, mimo, że pisze o swojej ojczyźnie to nie daje jej taryfy ulgowej. Rzeczowo i skrupulatnie opisuje najciemniejsze karty w najnowszej historii Irlandii - pedofilię w Kościele, pralnie magdalenek, przemoc, wykorzystywanie seksualne w prowadzonych przez państwo ośrodkach dla sierot czy ofiar przemocy, a i wygrzebuje na światło przypadki nękania psychicznego przez księży ich współpracowników i współpracownic czy przekręty finansowe. Nie tylko przedstawia liczne przewinienia swojego kraju, ale i zwraca uwagę, demaskuje i nagłaśnia jak w rzeczywistości wyglądają głośne na cały świat przyznania się do win, przeprosiny i pomoc ofiarom, którymi tak chętnie chwali się Irlandia. I tak np. odszkodowania dla ofiar okazują się być zapłatą za ich milczenie (dosłownie - skrzywdzeni, aby dostać pieniężne zadośćuczynienie za doświadczone w przeszłości naruszenia muszą podpisać dokument, stwierdzający, że będą milczeć w tej sprawie). Ostatnia część reportażu trochę odstaje od wcześniejszych - nie jakościowo, a tematycznie. Scally nie pisze już o konkretnych sprawach, przestępstwach Kościoła i państwa, a zastanawia się jak Irlandia może odpokutować za swoje grzechy. Podpiera się tu przykładami krajów, w których pamięć o “wstydliwych” wydarzeniach z przeszłości działa (m.in. głównie Niemcy i NRD/RFN i II WŚ), a nie jest zamiatana pod dywan.
Doskonała jest to pozycja, bo napisana przez rasowego dziennikarza, który do swojego zawodu podchodzi z powołaniem i pasją! Pisanie pod tezę, jawna stronniczość są autorowi obce - jak najbardziej rzetelnie przedstawia irlandzki Kościół podkreślając, że w tej “zgniłej” instytucji trafiali (i nadal trafiają) się i dobrzy księża oraz zakonnice. W rozmowach z ofiarami i świadkami - oddaje im głos, nie ocenia, nie krytykuje, nie dziwi się rozmówcom dlaczego Ci nie zgłaszali molestowania bliskim, nie szukali pomocy. Scally nie uprawia pornografizacja przemocy - nie raczy czytelników drobiazgowymi opisami przebiegu nadużyć, a skupia się na przekazaniu emocji, uczuć skrzywdzonych - tego jak traumatyczne wydarzenia wpłynęły na ich dalsze życie. Pełen profesjonalizm i zrozumienie. Drąży, poszukuje, grzebie w archiwach, bazuje na wiarygodnych twardych źródłach pisanych, licznych aktach jak i rozmawia z ofiarami, politykami, przedstawicielami kleru. Co tu dużo mówić - reportaż totalny.
Nie jest bez wad, głównie sama końcówka się dłuży, kiedy autor wypływa trochę w potencjalną przyszłość i szuka rozwiązań, plus ja bym chyba Niemiec za przykład radzenia sobie z własną historią nie stawiała, ale to i tak prześwietny reportaż o historii kościoła w Irlandii, o jego obecnej sytuacji, wzlocie i upadku, i, przede wszystkim, o zgniłym systemie i instytucjonalnej przemocy (i złożoności tych problemów), a także takich pojęciach jak zbiorowa odpowiedzialność czy społeczny/narodowy wstyd (i odróżnienie wstydu od winy)
This is one of those books that even when I was not reading I was constantly thinking about. Having finished it that will not stop. While there are aspects that I think many in the Catholic church (by this I mean laypeople, priests and so on) will struggle with, although a lot of that is on the level of asides by Scally for example on transubstantiation, I think that the broad thrust of the book is worth engaging with. It could even be useful for discussion between the church and the rest of society. Particularly, the rejection of us and them, but to see that this is not just the history of the church but that it needs to be seen as part of Ireland's larger society. Simplistic narratives aid no one. We cannot disassociate from Ireland's past as Scally observes to simply reject the church can mean continuing to other the church without really engaging with what the f*ck happened in Ireland? In a book I was reading recently about Johann Baptist Metz a post-Holocaust theologian, in his argument on the importance of remembrance, the history of suffering with events like the Holocaust should continue to disturb us. We need to be continuously aware of the outstanding promises of history and work toward fulfilling those promises. The importance on remembrance helps to ensure that history does not become made in our image. There is a lot more to develop here, I am still processing. But I might use Scally's work to consider what the church in Ireland can learn from post-Holocaust theology.
Note: I use the word history in this review several times. I don't like it because it can make it seem like this is in the past and ignores that there are many victims still alive looking for justice but in absence of a better word I have used
fantastic and thought provoking, a thoroughly enjoyable history of the power and status of the church in ireland, why it was so powerful some searching questions about what might come next. a must read for anyone wanting to understand modern ireland.
To jest książka raczej dla Tygodnik Powszechny hools, ja tymczasem jestem Tygodnik NIE ultras. Nie interesuje mnie pogłębiona analiza, chcę patrzeć, jak płoną kościoły.
Mixed feelings. Good book, but I don't understand how you can write a book about Catholic identity in Ireland and not even briefly mention the North (granted the Good Friday agreement is mentioned in passing when he interviews Brady).
There was an openly sectarian two-tier state a couple of hours up the road from Dublin, divided directly down religious lines, where protestors are getting shot in the streets at Catholic civil rights marches and it doesn't even get a paragraph?
Surely the chaos in the North influenced the Catholic mentality in the south? Did the violence on all sides entrench the religious identity in minds on both sides of the border and contribute to the cone of silence the priests took advantage of? The end of the Troubles and collapse of the Church on the island conveniently happening at the same time doesn't warrant a couple of lines of evaluation?
To ignore the Troubles means this book is half-baked. Maybe throwing in such a morally grey, painful conflict would have complicated the book, but how can you leave it out and present a finished product?
A thoughtful, even-handed examination of the moral monopoly the Catholic Church held over Irish society for decades, the abuses of power that resulted from that relationship, and the trauma that Ireland still lives with. The Berlin-based Irish Times journalist Derek Scally takes the clerical abuses scandals in the North Dublin parish of his childhood as the starting point to explore how the Irish Catholic Church was “able to dominate this land completely and absolutely for most of the twentieth century”.
“The Best Catholics in the World” traces how the church came to take on its position of immense power in Ireland back to the traumatic aftermath of The Great Famine, became synonymous with the resurgent nationalism that birthed the new Irish Free State ... and then came to dominant practically every element of that fledgling state. But Scally doesn’t just focus his attention on the church hierarchy; he asks hard questions of the Irish people as to why they acquiesced to such a repressive religious structure, and in so many cases remained silent and turned away when learning of abuses such as the Magdalene Laundries and Mother and Baby Homes.
Derek Scally takes tremendous care that this book does not become a hatchet job on the Church hierarchy and Catholicism; while exploring the deep-rooted trauma of Ireland’s Catholic legacy, he is careful not to ‘throw the baby out with the bathwater’ and tar every clergy member as unremittingly evil. In its attempts to resolve the legacy of Church abuses of power and to come to terms with Ireland’s often shameful past, “The Best Catholics in the World” is an often uncomfortable and uneasy read, but also quite a necessary one for those looking to untangle the country’s church-state relations.
About me; I started serving mass in Latin and up to Mar 2020 (Covid) attended at least 52 masses per year. I understand the title but it is really about the most deferent Catholics in the world. One thing that stuck in my mind is that the Irish Catholic church as we know it today is 4 years older than the Irish Times. It was interesting how the confluence of circumstances in the mid 19th century provided the fertile ground for the beginning of the Irish church. The author does not pose as an expert merely someone asking the questions and doing the research on our behalf. I would like to see some honest reviews from the Irish bishops Conference. Overall this is essential reading for the Irish Catholic.
This book, more than anything else I’ve read (as of late), has caused me to reflect on my past and the repercussions it brings to the present.
Scally’s calm, witty, and agile writing style makes navigating the highly complex web of Irish Catholic history feel relatively easy. That ease, for me, also comes from reading about another country’s dark past and being able to separate myself from it. That said, while reading this book I inevitably began drawing parallels between Ireland’s institutional failures and those that I experience (and am complicit in) in the U.S. “The Best Catholics in the World” made me question my role in societal injustices, my personal relationship with religion, and my ability to critically analyze my past.
This book had some great insight into the cultural and personal impacts of, especially, the abuse perpetrated by the Catholic Church in Ireland and the society that allowed this abuse to happen. However, the book was a bit uneven in execution. Searingly emotional and insightful in parts; mind-numbingly boring and aimless in others.
Derek Scally’s first published book explores the past and present of Irish Catholicism and is one of the most thought-provoking reads I’ve encountered this year. Comprised of three sections, Scally begins by taking a deep dive into his own history with Irish Catholicism and the religion’s origins in Ireland. He continues in the second section, “Implosion”, to talk about the fall of the Church after revelations of sexual abuse and other scandals. Finally, the third section gives a comparative reflection on how these events have shaped Irish attitudes in society and the secular realm today. Scally starts with his early education in Catholic schools in Dublin. Often in religion classes, he would find himself with more questions than answers and no way to remedy the imbalance. By relating his personal story beside historical research, Scally skillfully builds a perspective that colors the entire text. He depicts a religion that encourages devotion, deference and obedience rather than intellectual thought. Scally cleverly links these longstanding practices and mindset to how abuses of power within the Church and the sexual abuse scandals were able to occur. He investigates what it means to know something and the depth of responsibility an individual or a society is burdened with when it does know something. With interviews with parents and children from affected parishes, Scally presents an unbiased view into multiple sides of the story. This section of the book also includes bombshell interviews from Seán Brady which give unprecedented insight into the mindset of church officials. The text smoothly transitions to exploring how the Catholic church found its way into every corner of the lay person’s life. After Paul Cullen in the 1850s, the church took a heavy hand in education, welfare, healthcare, local social activities and essentially crossed into secular life. This omnipresence of the church allowed it to have a tight control over society and to wield unprecedented influence. As a person new to the topic, I was fascinated by the section detailing the Magdalene Laundries. While some readers may be bored with how Scally takes the time and word count to explain well-covered events, as a non-Catholic and non-Irish person I appreciate his doing so. Artfully accomplished, the stories of the survivors is illustration enough for a person with no background knowledge on the topic. He also presents history in a modern day context tactfully by recounting his attendance at recent events such as the garden party at Áras an Uachtarain in 2018 and contemporary art exhibitions around Dublin. This kind of narrative, using the present to explain the past, is effective for Scally’s overall purpose. As a reader progresses through the text, it is clear the author’s intention is to encourage reflection. He uses the section expounding on the laundries to explore another important theme throughout the work: guilt versus shame. Scally reports: “The simplest way I have found for differentiating guilt and shame is this: people who feel guilt for what they have done but feel shame for who they are, or how they are made to feel… Guilt is a wrong that can be righted by the wrong-doer… while shame is what philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre called ‘a haemorrhage of the soul’.” (136) This topic is revisited on multiple occasions in terms of how affected and unaffected members of society view events in Catholic Ireland’s past and manages to relate back to posed issues of personal and societal responsibility. At points, he draws a Venn Diagram to gather the opinions of interviewees on how society, the secular, and the church interrelate. Scally literally draws a picture of the questions he wants us to reflect upon in several interviews and while it could hardly be made clearer, he never receives the same answer from interviewees. This is a profound strategy for conveying the differing perceptions which exist on the issue. The final aspect of Scally’s work I want to reflect on is the proposed connection he draws between Irish Catholic Ireland and post-war East Germany. While some have described it as bold and tenuous, I found it gently sprinkled in the text until the final chapters, where it included conscious disclaimers and apologies. While he draws parallels between his feelings of social control and silence, he also carefully keeps the two countries’ histories separate. This seems deliberate so as not to distract from the true purpose of pointing out the us-and-them narrative that exists in these kinds of societies. Scally carefully addresses this narrative to lead the discussion back to the text’s overall goal: self-reflection on the past to build a better, more self-aware present and future. To his credit, Scally is not pointing fingers and posing unanswerable questions about past society and its ethically difficult issues with his text. He devotes the final chapter to proposing ideas of how to address persisting issues via a citizen’s assembly and makes profound observances about modern Ireland to support his claims. The last two paragraphs bring everything full circle to the present and leave the reader with immense food for thought. It’s a stunning ending to an intensely provocative book. Overall, I found Scally’s work incredibly insightful, well-balanced, objective, and engaging. He raises topics from personal trauma to generational trauma with supporting evidence from qualified sources which are all listed in the endnotes. The author knows he is dealing with delicate, complex questions and does a commendable job of keeping an even-handed and compassionate tone. The text covers a variety of topics which build upon each other while never losing sight of the author’s goal. I was with impressed by how the overall purpose never gets lost in the minutiae of relaying events spanning centuries. As a person living in Ireland, but not from here, this book was an eye-opening education on what Irish Catholicism is, its history, and how it still exists in the country and people. This is a well-constructed text that should be considered essential reading for the topic.
This a very quiet yet challenging book in so many ways. I really identify with the author’s struggles over faith, knowing what the institution of the Catholic Church has done. The structure of the book is good and the authors personal struggles are intertwined beautifully throughout. A book that has made me think about my own connection with spirituality.
My initial disappointment in finding that Scally was covering old ground for new readers, offering anecdotal and documentary evidence that had already been meticulously reported and debated in Irish media, soon gave way to admiration for his well-sustained analysis of the bystander effect and the complicity of Irish society at large: 'Ireland was once a state that wooed the Holy See, not the other way around. No one forced us to collectively kiss the papal ring. There was only ever as much Rome rule as Ireland wanted.' (253) In the third and most valuable section of the book, Scally, the Berlin-based correspondent of the Irish Times, makes authoritative use of his experience of Germany's postwar reconciliation with its troubled and troubling past, quoting Franz-Walter Steinmeier: 'It's not the remembering that is a burden; the non-remembering becomes a burden. ... It's not acknowledging the responsibility that is a disgrace; the disgrace is denial.' (279) Most damningly, he cites the conclusion reached in the Ryan report on child abuse in industrial schools run by religious orders: 'the general public was often uninformed and usually uninterested.' (287) It's easier to apportion blame elsewhere than to accept responsibility for our own wilful ignorance. There are sins of omission as well as commission.
Basically, Scally tries to show how today's sharp decline in practicing Irish Catholics is linked to past institutional abuse (ie, the mother and baby homes and sexual abuse and coverup among the clergy). Some of his connections and postulations felt a little tenuous, especially when he tried map Germany's story onto Ireland. Also, at first I wasn't sure about his technique of leaving the story to bring in random bits from history and psychology, but by the end I did acknowledge somewhat grudgingly that it does fit his style. With all that being said, it's clear that he has a redoubtable knowledge of both Irish and Catholic history, and of course the many points where they overlap. Anyway, ubi amor ibi dolor (and all that). Bye!
This book gave me a lot to think about Catholicism - how costs and benefits differ for different generations, why some leave quietly and others with a thunder, why some stay despite the most horrendous scandals. Scally also writes beautifully about individual trauma and cultural trauma, blame and guilt and the effects of being a bystander to an abusive leadership. Having been brought up in a fundamentalist home and then dramatically moved on to agnosticism this book also gave me insight into a concept that is extremely foreign to me: what it means to be a lukewarm Catholic. This was a crucial read for me and I really hope to find more books like this.
Szokujący reportaż o katolickiej Irlandii. Ale pełen namysłu i refleksji, nie poprzestaje na prostych odpowiedziach, a ponadto porusza bardzo różnorodne wątki o narodzinach przemocy kościelnej i państwowej, co najważniejsze jednak komentuje także powody narodzin takiego systemu. Mocne świadectwo i wielowątkowe dzieło
4.5* a must-read for anyone interested in the role of Catholicism in Ireland, and in how the Catholic Church abused its power to unimaginable lengths. it will take some time to get through this thought-provoking text, but it is definitely worth the read for anyone trying to understand the Ireland of today and the past stigmas that remain
Największą zaletę tej książki jest fakt, że nie jest zapisem śledztwa w sprawie pedofilii w kościele Katolickim i zarazem nie jest też typowo antyklerykalną krytyką Kościoła. Autor zastanawia się wręcz, czy zrzucenie całej odpowiedzialności za przestępstwa na hierarchię kościelną nie była zbyt prostym rozwiązaniem. Zwłaszcza, że według statystyk w Irlandii narasta problemy pedofilii (za 99% z niej nie odpowiadają wcale księża) oraz przemocy domowej (przyrost w tempie prawie 20% rocznie),za które według postępowych środowisk odpowiadały właśnie wpływy katolicyzmu. Jak widać jego wyeliminowanie wcale ich nie rozwiązało.
Publikacja ma niestety także wady. Czasami z reportażu zmienia się w "filozofowanie' autora, który często powtarza zupełnie niepotrzebnie te same treści, a jego przemyślenia nie zawsze stoją na wysokim poziomie. Do tego irytujące są wszystkie te idiotyczne "feminatywy" pokroju "doktorki" czy "profesorki".
Ale mimo pewnych minusów warto sięgnąć, zwłaszcza jeśli ktoś jest zainteresowany Irlandią.
A very close look at the relationship between the Irish people and the Catholic Church, part personal grappling and part social history. It raises a lot of interesting questions -- more than it provides answers, as would be expected for such a thing -- and provides a lot of interesting context, as well as raising points, that I was unaware of or hadn't considered before.
I do think I perhaps did not get as much out of this book as I would have had I been raised in the Republic, regardless of the fact I was born well after the height of the Church's power in Ireland. Scally takes for granted that his readers know of a lot of context and culture that, being from the North, raised by a now non-practising Catholic mother and a Protestant father, I just did not have. While I was already aware of the trajectory of the major scandals, I did not have much in-depth knowledge of the wider culture and power dynamics, so often I found myself a little lost. I think this would be a very enlightening read for the people it profiles: people who grew up in Catholic Ireland, who are grappling with the same questions, but for those of us who grew up on the peripheries or in the North, it might leave some things to be desired.
(Having said that, the running theme of facing the past and your own part in it is a worthy lesson for everyone, and unexpectedly managed to resonate with my own country's troubled history. It just goes to show that you can read a book about one specific thing and never know what you're going to come out with.)
Still, the points raised and the questions asked are worth examining, for anyone who has ever been curious about the role and power of religion in society. I don't think any of us who never lived it could ever fully grasp what such a situation would be like, how insidiously it injects itself into every aspect of public and private life, and the scars it leaves behind. The idea of religion as judge and jury, moral crusader, educator, police force, and myriad other roles is not unique to Catholicism, but this particular flavour is unique to Ireland. Scally's book does a fascinating job of trying to untangle the question of why that is, and is worth a read for that alone. The focus might be on Ireland, but the questions are universal.
Scally's book is superb - why wasn't I aware of him before this? My dislike of long books and long chapters was not a factor with this one. The chapters average ±15 to 20 pages which I really liked. The book has 350 pages.
It's perfectly balanced and broad without any of the bias against the Catholic Church that would be evident in anything I wrote. This makes his criticism of the Catholic Church even more powerful and devastating. In his own quiet, measured way Scally has done a "demolition job" on the Catholic Church.
For academics it has a complete index at the back as well as pages of references to every source that Scally quoted.
I was reading a hard copy for the first time in ages and I missed Apple Books features like enlarging the font or highlighting passages and taking notes as I read.
Scally has a concise, focused writing style that is quite enjoyable. I strongly recommend this book!
A powerful study of the relationship between the Irish and the Roman Catholic Church. The grip that the Catholic Church has had on the people of "Catholic" Ireland has been enormous and, as recent times have evidenced, deeply dangerous and detrimental. From Magdalene Laundries with unmarked graves to industrial schools filled with violence toward the children and the all too numerous cases of sexual and physical abuse against children that has been endemic, not just in Ireland, but around the world, this book should serve as a warning. Theocracy (government and religion co-existing and ruling) is an impossibility. Both government and religion involve power and as the saying goes, "Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely". The con job perpetrated on the people of Ireland is a tragedy. From priests demanding that the parishioners "dig deep" to support the Church all while also forbidding the use of birth control so that people had to place their children last in order to meet the neverending demands of the priests, to becoming involved in the very lives of the people and their children it is clearly indisputable that the Roman Catholic Church is the furthest thing from God you could imagine. People need to wake up, vote with their feet and leave this poor excuse for a religion. How anyone stays knowing the acts that have taken place in the name of the Church is a mystery to me. This is one reason why I have never supported a united Ireland. To unite under the Catholic Church would make life every bit a misery for those in Northern Ireland as it is for those living under the Church. Faith should be foremost and that does not require a religion. In fact, in the case of the Catholic Church, it poisons a relationship with Christ. Now that the people of Ireland are well on their way to shaking loose of the reins of the Church, perhaps there can be some unity. But leave religion out of it. A relationship with Christ is a beautiful way to live. To use force and strong-arm people to see things the way the Catholic Church does is evidence that their faith is useless.