Archbishop Seán Brady's remarks at Knock have generated a remarkable amount of attention. Naturally, the media focused on his condemnation of a vast money-spinning, fortune-telling industry. It generated a predictable response. What might be termed the Richard Dawkins school guffawed at the idea of an archbishop condemning superstition, since in their opinion what the archbishop offers is little different.
Others accused him of being intolerant and judgmental of the spiritual practices of others. Then there were those who congratulated him for saying something that needed to be said.
As might be expected, the archbishop's comments were little more than an aside in a substantial homily that readers of The Irish Times had the opportunity to read in full if they wished. Having had the privilege of meeting the archbishop several times, I found everything that is said about his gentle, self-effacing and saintly personality to be true.
No doubt the archbishop hoped to stimulate debate on values, and in that he has succeeded. Yet I wonder, do we need to ask other questions? For example, does Ireland having lost its way with the coming of the Celtic Tiger really sum up our current situation? I am in my 40s. I don't remember Ireland being a land of saints and scholars. Were we ever?
Was Ireland a gentler, more community-minded place that took religion seriously mere generations ago? Perhaps. But was it also a place with almost Jansenistic attitudes to sexuality? Were we ferociously conformist and inward-looking, and punitive towards those who transgressed social norms? It is always unwise to idealise the past.
If we are now the land of stocks and shares, surely we should be asking how a person can live as a Christian in that milieu, rather than seeming to imply that our new-found wealth is a bad thing in itself?
My own political viewpoint when it comes to economics leans firmly towards the left, towards social justice and concern for the disadvantaged. Yet it strikes me that the Protestant tradition often handles the question of wealth much better than the Catholic tradition.
Within the Protestant tradition, there is an ethic of remembering the responsibilities that come with riches, and an emphasis on fair dealing, providing good conditions for workers and respecting family life.
Somehow, it seems easier for some Catholic businesspeople to disconnect their religious practice from their business practice.
There is vast teaching on social justice in the Catholic tradition, too, but it seems to remain an untapped resource for the majority of Catholics, perhaps because it has rarely been translated into practical guidelines on how to live our lives from day to day. Where would a Catholic businessperson be challenged to be ethical and socially responsible at work? Certainly not in the average homily at Mass.
Come to that, where would the average Catholic who wants to learn more about prayer turn to? It is no surprise that many end up exploring Buddhism, because the Buddhists are active and unapologetic about promoting meditation.
It is understandable that the archbishop condemned blatantly exploitative forms of fortune-telling, but why do people have recourse to them? Could it be that they do not find sustenance in the tradition that they and their parents were reared in? Could it be, as Milton said, that the hungry sheep look up and are not fed?
What has the church to say to someone who works in the International Financial Services Centre, or the 22-year-old working long hours in a supermarket? What does it have to say to families struggling to raise children? What does it have to say to a single man working on building sites?
For about 200 years in Ireland, we had so many nuns and priests that we could afford to be complacent. Many religious people were and are extraordinary people. Whether it is researching with a view to writing about prisoners, immigrants, homelessness, women working in prostitution or the challenges of climate change, I don't get far without falling over committed religious people or priests who are making a difference simply because their nature is to get stuck in and try to do something.
But being brutal about it, that is yesterday's capital, and it is being spent at a ferocious rate without being replenished. Lay people are still seen as a group that must be encouraged to be involved in the church, rather than being the church. Families are at the core of the church, yet some of the ways families are spoken about by religious leaders are so idealistic that no one could recognise a real family in them.
It is extraordinarily difficult to raise children as Catholics in this society, and not just because of a hostile secular culture, but because so many parishes are more dead than alive, and sap your energy rather than renew it.
Happily, after a long search, our family have settled into a dynamic, open parish where children are welcomed and are a central part of parish life.
Others are not so fortunate. Mass is meant to be the "summit and source" of Catholic life, but so often it is more like an endurance test.
No matter how hard they work, parents cannot pass on cherished values if there is no community reinforcing those values. Even when a parish is alive and welcoming, everything can fall apart if a priest is moved to another parish.
Archbishop Brady says beautiful things in his homily about having faith and trust in God's providence, rather than living in a culture of insecurity and fear. I know he lives by what he says, but there is plenty of insecurity and fear within the Irish church, including the hierarchical church. Many people turn to alternative forms of spirituality or away from spirituality entirely because they receive so little inspiration and nourishment from the Catholicism that they have come into contact with.
Living in a sometimes hostile secular culture is at worst slightly uncomfortable, and not exactly like the threat of being kidnapped by the Taliban if you dare to preach Christianity.
Growing Irish scepticism about faith and recourse to other ways of finding meaning should simply challenge believers to find better ways to communicate, a challenge the church in Ireland has not always been good about meeting.