Divine inspiration
A huge spectrum of churches, big and small, stretches across Ireland.
In honour of St. Patrick’s week Malcolm Rogers makes a pilgrimage to some of the nation’s better-known ecclesiastical centres.
In Ireland religion is still part of the fabric of everyday life — the Angelus bell still tolls, and despite recent self-inflicted scandals, the country has one of the highest church-going populations in Europe.
Thus to visit the ecclesiastical centres of the country out of curiosity rather than for spiritual sustenance requires a degree of sensitivity. And of course, if you go with an open enough mind you might just get both.
It being St. Patrick’s week, you really have to visit Down Cathedral first. Here in the grounds of the Church of Ireland cathedral lies the presumed remains of our Patron Saint, the Apostle of Ireland. And just for good measure, our other two patron saints, Colmcille and Brigid, lie there too.
Needless to say, there is much controversy over whose remains actually reside under the granite slab in the cemetery — bones of contention as it were. Some claim Brigid is buried in Kildare, most people suspect Colmcille lies interred on the island of Iona, and it’s generally assumed that St. Patrick is buried about 100 yards to the left of the grave, under the door of the cathedral to be exact.
Nonetheless, this is still an impressive area, obviously steeped in the ministry of St. Patrick, who undoubtedly did a lot of his missionary work in this neck of the woods.
The great thing is, although you can detect the presence of Padraig, there’s not a whiff of paddywhackery. An added bonus is that the cathedral is within shouting distance of the old Downpatrick Gaol, which is now a museum. The Man From God Knows Where (otherwise known as the United Irishman Thomas Russell) was hanged here, within sight of the Quoile River and the ancient Cistercian abbey of Inch.
Still on the trail of St. Patrick, Armagh, the ecclesiastical centre of Ireland, has to be your next port of call. The city provides two cathedrals of note (many Irish towns have two, for reasons you will hardly need explained), but Armagh is probably unique in that its two main places of worship have exactly the same name — St. Patrick’s Cathedral — but are of different religions.
The Catholic Cathedral is a few minutes walk north-west of the centre, situated on a hillrise overlooking the city. It is, according to notes in the guidebook “a Gothic revival church” (like many across Ireland) and is impressive in its proportions. As befits the seat of the Primate of All Ireland the place is generously and richly decorated — a far cry from when work had to be stopped in the mid-19th century because of the famine.
In the churchyard outside lie the graves of the past Primates of All Ireland — Cardinal Ó Fiaich, Cardinal Conway et al.
As is the norm in Ireland the Church of Ireland Cathedral has the prime position in the city. I sometimes suspect there may be a Holy Tape Measure of Antioch or the like that ensures that the Church of Ireland church is always the tallest establishment in any Irish town. Situated atop the main hill, the Armagh cathedral is no exception, dominating the city as it does. A succession of buildings have occupied the site, and remnants dating back to the 11th century can still clearly be seen.
Pay particular notice to the Chapter House, which has a small collection of stone statues, the most notable being a shiel-na-gig with ass’s ears. This is said to be King Midas, but most local people reckon it’s a depiction of Queen Mhacha (or Macha), after whom the city (Ard Mhacha) is named.
Dublin has more than its fair share of fine churches — including one that houses the remains of St. Valentine — but few are more steeped in history and festooned with legend than the 900-year-old St. Michan’s Church, on the banks of the Liffey. Originally. St. Michan’s was built to serve the Viking community, which was expelled from the walled city, and for almost 500 years this was the only parish church on the northside of the river.
The church contains one of the oldest organs still in use in this country, the one Handel is believed to have used while composing his masterpiece The Messiah.
And that’s just for starters. Charles Stewart Parnell’s coffin lay on its altar, while the great political thinker Edmund Burke (who was born nearby at Arran Quay) and the Dublin-born Duke of Wellington were baptised in its font, which is still in use to this day.
Many of the leaders of the 1798 Rebellion are buried in the vaults and surrounding graveyard, including the Sheare brothers. Robert Emmet is said to be buried in an unmarked grave at the back of the cemetery, while the death mask of Wolfe Tone can be seen inside.
But what St. Michan’s is most famous for is its collection of mummified bodies stored in the vaults. Nature has stubbornly refused to take its course and the bodies within have not returned to dust. Anonymous in their antiquity, these bodies in lidless coffins defy the normal laws of disintegration.
There is the Crusader, well over six feet tall, whose legs are broken and crossed, but his features stare up at you from the coffin. Then there’s The Nun, said to have been 111 years old when she died, her flesh, which shouldn’t be there at all, leathery and black, and her finger nails intact and shining. One corpse has lost a hand — maybe cut off for stealing a horse — and it’s a fair bet that some of the other bodies belong to those who were hanged in the vicinity of the church.
It’s all very odd, but science can provide a rough explanation for the fossilisation of these bodies. Suggestions for the phenomenon include the presence of tannic acid (from the oak trees that once surrounded the area), the fact that the church is built on marsh land
(the methane may have preservative qualities), the presence of sulphur in the limestone, /a remarkably even temperature, and so on — and that’s before we even touch on the supernatural reasons sometimes put forward.
Whatever the complete explanation (and it’s probably a mixture of all the above with the exception of the supernatural bit), this church, named after a Danish saint, is a fascinating place to visit for a slice of Irish history.
Apart from the great and good already mentioned, you can pay your respects to Ireland’s patriots and persecuted, its hated landlords and revered heroes, its monks and nuns, its horse thieves, and its fighters of holy wars. The vaults of St. Michan’s should be firmly on any your agenda.
For comparison reasons, if you’ve the time, you might want to visit the smallest church in Ireland. A few candidates compete for this title, but undoubtedly the most appealing is St. Gobhnan’s in Portbraddan (also spelt Portbraden), Co. Antrim. St. Gobhnan is the patron saint of builders, and no, before you ask, he’s not buried in a cowboy outfit. Rather more incongruous is that Ireland’s smallest church (12 feet by six) should be dedicated to him, given his special interest in the construction industry.
St. Gobhnan’s is probably most worthy of all of Smallest-Church-in-Ireland sites because of its spectacular setting on the shores of White Park Bay, with towering cliffs behind, and the angry North Atlantic in front. Watch carefully and you’ll probably see seals out in the bay.
In Ireland, religion and culture have not parted company as they have in so many secular countries. The great cathedrals of Armagh, Derry and Dublin have not become museums; they are still a vital part of the community. And religious or not, you’ll find visiting them an uplifting experience.
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