The Land of Saints and Scholars

There are many wonderful things about Ireland. This is a land of rolling green fields, ancient history, friendly people. It's a country where people can be so passionate, so giving, that you could almost believe it to be a second Eden. It has music and art in its soul, fire in its blood, love in its hand.

This is my Ireland. This is my home and my heart. This is the place my ancestors died for. And it is not for me any more.

I have no faith left in the government. I have long since lost faith in the Church. Everywhere I look, people are either being ruined by the incompetance or malice of others, or they are the ones wreaking the destruction. And no one seems willing to try to mend, rebuild, sacrifice, and finally lift us all out of this abyss of despair. We have no Barack Obama here to give us back our hope for a better future.

I've nothing left to look to here except a long spiral of corruption and decay, where there is one rule for the people, another for the cronies in power, and yet another for those who are rich or influential. The most recent scandal of Willie O' Dea is just another in a long line of scandals, all of which show that the government only cares for power and wealth, and the church only cares for its own - and the people of Ireland are only there to be used, abused, ordered about as needed, and ignored otherwise.

Almost a hundred years ago, the Republic won its independence from Britain. Since then it seems we have simply rolled over and accepted whatever injustice is inflicted on us by the politicians we elect. I would have hoped that the reports of the truly horrific clerical child abuse would finally have made a difference, but now, not even a year later, they are forgotten. There was no outcry. There was only mute, indifferent, despicable acceptance.

There was a rape trial in Kilkenny. A man convicted of dragging a drugged woman behind a dumpster and raping her. Video footage of the act. An undeniable, inhumane act.

The woman was made a pariah for daring to speak. A priest, and fifty supporters, walked into the courtroom and shook the rapist's hand.

I will not forget these things, and so I have made my choice.

Ireland is beyond redemption. I will not stay here and subject myself to this any further. I will not allow my children to grow up here, and let them be tainted by what my country is becoming. I am not even thirty years old, and all that I have seen in my life tells me that Ireland is not fit to govern itself, and it is not worthy of my citizenship. Like so many others, I am leaving, and I don't mean to return.

And yet! The pain of being torn from my country is almost too much to bear. It is the hardest choice to make, to leave one's friends, family, all that you know, and all for the sake of hope. That's all it boils down to, really. I have no hope, here. I might have hope elsewhere. Consider, for a moment, how far a person must be pushed before they will choose a vague hope over the entire life they have built for themselves and those they love.

Again, I wanted this blog to be about writing. I wanted it to be about form, and prose, and art - simple, safe things. But this... this is too tightly woven into my own life to ignore, and I cannot be a taleweaver without also being human.

The song of pain continues

I've read Part 2.

I did try to post only about things to do with writing on this blog, but some narratives are too big, too violent, too insidious to ignore. The story of the Dublin report has threads stretching out over the country and into the heart of every good Irish person who has ever walked inside a church. I can't ignore it, and I can't bring myself to stay silent about it. There has been too much silence.

Why did they do it?! WHY?! What damaged them so much that they thought it was acceptable to rape and to hurt?! Enough excuses, enough sanitisation - I want every last priest, every last believer in Ireland to know that this, this is the horror that was inflicted on the young, and the bishops let it happen! They were incompetant, and uncaring! They are unrepentant even now!

That the government were, and are, so utterly indifferent to the whole mess speaks volumes about their moral worth, and of the value they place on the Irish people. The evidence is there for all to see. These crimes were committed, and shown to have been obfuscated by the Catholic Church in order to save face, but there will be nothing done - not even a statement of condemnation - while the government remains spineless and self-absorbed. Andrew Madden talks here about his experiences while trying to obtain justice. The response of Bertie Ahern (then the leader of the country), that the State could not investigate the Church, chills me to the bone. And the sad truth is that they only care to speak about it at all because the Irish people are screaming at them.

It sends a clear message that the Catholic Church here is accountable to no one. That if a priest does something to me, or to the people I love, the law will not hold him to the same standard as a non-priest. I don't know if I want to live in this country any longer, knowing that.

I know I cannot be part of a religion whose leaders are so morally bankrupt that they allowed this to happen, and then refuse to take responsibility for the pain their decisions inflicted on hundreds of people. I will not have it on my conscience.

And so I sing across the Net, my voice lost in the chorus as the sons and daughters of Ireland call out the true lament; that our beloved country is broken, that there will never be justice to ease the pain.

The shameful lament of the Dublin Diocese

The Dublin Diocesan report has been published. I've read through Part 1 so far. Here's Part 2.

This is the land of saints and scholars. Ours is an ancient culture, a proud history going back generations. Ireland is known for its friendliness, and beauty; the people are known for their warmth, and generosity.

Sometimes it seems that all the things that make my country a wonderful and admirable place have survived in spite of the activities of the Church.

I have known priests who were heroes. Leaders, Samaritans, interested in only the good of those around them; they were the ideal, the ultimate sacrificers of their own lives in service to the people. What of their faith now? What of all the good that they have done, tainted by this evil?

I have known people who were devout Catholics, and truly believed in the divine instruction of their saviour to love one another, as he had loved them. What of their belief now? What of their trust in the Church, ruined by the actions of the few?

I weep for this open wound on my country. I weep for the pain of the victims; may they find some measure of solace from the horror they have known. This strikes us all, whether we care or not, and the pain and shame will never go away until the wound is healed.

For the Church: Reach out to us. Your messiah wanted to take away the hurt of all mankind; show us you still believe that! Show us that you are still worthy of our trust!

For the people: Never forget. Never, never allow the Church or the government stay ignorant of the hurt that they cause. Demand that the Church live up to its ideals.