My religion reply on the Census? It’s complicated

IT’S complicated. I don’t do Facebook, but I know from the gazillions of you who do, that the site offers those two simple words as an option on its dropdown menu if a user wants to add their relationship status to their profile. I like ‘it’s complicated’, because it speaks volumes while at the same time saying nothing at all. Now, if only the CSO had considered ‘it’s complicated’ before they signed off on this weekend’s Census forms.

Because when it comes to asking Irish people in 2016 what religion they are, the most honest answer for many is probably simply that: it’s complicated. But come this Sunday night – when the law compels us to honestly answer every question on the household census form – we will not be given the luxury of nuance.

For most of us, that means we can either tick the box that declares us Catholic, or we can go to the final option of ‘no religion’. There is nothing in between; no à la carte option or no way to ask for extra paper on which to explain ourselves further. Faced with such a stark and brutal all- or-nothing choice, right now, this particular householder has no idea which box to tick. I’m half considering leaving the country for the weekend.

Because it’s complicated. Like most Irish people, I was baptised and brought up Catholic. And like many – but maybe not most – I stayed for a very, very long time. I had my children baptised into the Church because I wanted them to experience the positive side of the Church that I continued to enjoy.

At the baptismal font I promised, in good faith, as it were, to lead them through to adulthood – Confirmation – in the Catholic faith.

And I did. But somewhere between my making those promises and carrying them to fruition, a very different side of the Catholic Church began to emerge. The relentless, horrific testimonies of child abuse bubbled to the murky surface and I began to quietly question what I and my children were doing in this tarnished institution.

But still I stayed, mainly because I had promised I would.

My youngest made her Confirmation two years ago and just as her older siblings had done before her, she made it clear that she wasn’t keen on continuing in a church that, as far as they were concerned, discriminated against women and preyed on children.

And still, I stayed. A little over a year ago, at the start of the same-sex mar- riage referendum campaign, my Church told me in no uncertain terms that some of my friends and members of my family were not worthy of the same civil rights as I was, and so I quietly walked away. To be honest, I intended going back after the referendum, but so far I haven’t.

In five years’ time – when we take the next Census – I might be able to finish that last paragraph with a more emphatic sentence, but right now, it’s complicated.

Right now, I am not ready to say I have no religion – but equally, I am no longer comfortable ticking a box that might allow the Catholic Church to lay claim to 80% or so of a population that isn’t, strictly speaking, theirs.

At a time when it needs urgent reform and reconciliation, the last thing I want to do is help empower an institution in its broken form. For me, maybe selfishly, it’s not about school or hospital patronage (I am almost finished with the former and in complete denial that I might ever need the l atter); rather, i t’s about endorsing a Church that I no longer feel comfortable within.

After a lifetime supporting the Labour Party, I didn’t vote for them in the last election for much the same reason: it doesn’t mean I never will again.

THE CSO could have made life a lot easier. The question about the Irish language is more nuanced: ‘Can you speak Irish?’ it asks, following up with a supplementary question asking how often the respondent actually speaks Irish. By providing this single additional question, the CSO will be able to glean a fairly accurate picture of the usage of Irish nationally from Census 2016.

What it will be able to tell about our religion is likely to be skewed and inaccurate. The CSO website advises that people should answer the question on religion based on practice rather than on baptism.

But there’s no guidance on the form to that end – and it’s likely that many, many non- practising people will tick the Catholic box almost as a reflexive action.

Also, many householders will most likely describe other members of the household as Catholic when they may not wish to be so described.

The CSO has also said that it will review the religion question ahead of Census 2021. But in the meantime, this year’s model is likely to throw up a wholly inaccurate snapshot of where we are now in relation to the Catholic Church. In giving the Church the numbers, so to speak, it may even further damage it by offering it an artificial endorsement of its dominance in this country.

And on an individual basis, it asks many of us to tick a box that we’re not entirely comfortable with – or that some of us are simply not entirely ready to tick. It’s complicated.

Would that really have been such a terrible option to offer us?