- Opinion
- 08 Jun 16
He may be the head of the Catholic Church in Ireland, but the Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of All Ireland, Eamon Martin, is very different to his predecessors. In an exclusive interview he talks about growing up in Derry, the impact of the Troubles, his love of music, sexuality and his desire for a united Ireland.
It’s no exaggeration to say that many within the Catholic hierarchy were flabbergasted when it was announced that a relatively unknown cleric from Derry – a man who was not even a fully-fledged bishop, but an ‘acting’ bishop – had been handpicked by the Pope to become the Primate of All Ireland.
The shock announcement had Pat Kenny scratching his head and wondering, live on air, “Who is this man?” Archbishop Eamon Martin remembers giggling when he heard about the radio veteran’s bewilderment. It was, he admits, “a huge shock” to be selected to replace the previous top-dog, Cardinal Cathal Daly.
It was widely believed that Archbishop Eamon was chosen because he doesn’t carry any baggage from the past. Or, as the former Bishop of Derry, Edward Daly, put it he is a “clean pair of hands” after the abuse scandals that have devastated the Catholic Church in Ireland.
All of that notwithstanding, Archbishop Eamon Martin confesses that his initial reaction to being offered the job was, “Don’t do this! This is very somebody else – this is not for you.”
But he said ‘yes’ and today he lives in the palatial residence in Armagh – a million miles away from his very modest upbringing as of one of 12 children, reared in Derry by his Donegal-born parents.
He is warm and friendly and, the interview done, happily poses for pictures in the garden. Later, after I arrive back in Dublin, a message lands in my inbox from the man who arranged the interview. “Hi Jason,” it says, “good seeing you today in Armagh. Just a thought: would you mind amending the quote “homosexuality is not a sin” instead to “being homosexual is not a sin”. It would prevent any misunderstanding in the print presentation.”
Unfortunately, the Archbishop doesn’t have time for follow-up questions on this or any of the other issues that begin to nag at me when the transcript of the interview is completed. And so I have made that change in the text of the interview, in good faith. But it begs the question: does the Archbishop really believe, and is he saying, that it is not a sin to be ‘homosexual’, but it very definitely is a sin to engage in homosexual sex? The logic of this surely is that, in the ‘next life’, homosexuals will be punished for living their lives together and having sex together. So will they all go to hell? Or will a long term in purgatory suffice? Or will they be forgiven and go straight to heaven? In which case what does it all matter?
It is too early to tell, but you’d have to wonder: is Archbishop Eamon Martin not going to be the kind of man who will help the Church to move on from all of these old obsessions with the sinfulness of sex? Born in 1961, he was ordained a priest in June 1987. He went to St Patrick’s Primary School and St Columb’s College, Derry. He studied in St Patrick’s College, Maynooth for degrees in Mathematical Science and Theology; a cantor, he was also Acting Director of Sacred Music.
His postgraduate studies were at Queen’s University Belfast, the Institute of Education in London and the University of Cambridge.
After his ordination, he was appointed to Templemore Parish in Derry. In 1990, he began to teach Mathematics and Religion in St Columb’s College. He became Head of Religious Education in 1997 and eventually President of the College, a post he held for eight years. He was appointed Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of All Ireland on September 8, 2014.
Jason O’Toole: Can you tell me a bit about your childhood?
Archbishop Eamon Martin: I was born in Derry in 1961. I came from a big family of six boys and six girls. It was a difficult time, as you know, for Ireland – and a particularly difficult time for Derry.
What type of memories do you have of the Troubles?
It’s only now, looking back, that I can see that my parents sheltered me from some of the terrible things that were happening around me. Now, you couldn’t ignore it. I distinctly remember being regularly searched on my way to and from school, searched going in and out of shops. We were always searched. I can remember waiting for long hours at checkpoints, particularly after a bomb or a shooting. I can remember the sounds of shots and bombs.
Did you witness any fatalities?
Only on a small number of occasions, as a child, did I come face to face with the horrors of what was happening. I can remember one day coming home from school on the school bus and we drove through the aftermath of a bomb where a number of people had lost their lives. I can remember seeing people putting coats over bodies on the ground. At that stage, I was about 12 or 13 – and later to hear that this was someone who lived quite near me who had died... I suppose there are a few incidents like that where the trauma of what was going on around me struck me.
Growing up, what type of music did you like?
I had a very eclectic musical taste so I found myself playing jazz, playing classical music, and playing Dixieland, even in marching bands. In fact, one of the strangest experiences that I ever had was being involved in a band largely from the Protestant community, who were stuck for a trombonist. I ended up playing with them and putting on their gear and their outfits. What I’m trying to say is that I think that would have tempered – I am naturally and by my own personal opinions a nationalist, I do believe that Ireland should be one. And I would like to work for that, and continue to work for that, by peaceful means and by persuasion, recognising that there are many people on this island who do not want that. At no point whatsoever would I have believed in the use of violence in order to achieve that.
You just mentioned your desire for a United Ireland. Is this something we’ll see in my lifetime?
The whole debate about Europe is interesting, to see whether we are tending towards more nationalism again. But certainly the vision of a united Europe was one in which political borders would be less important and we’d work more on our common humanity, on our common economic needs, on our common social needs as a people of Europe and I think that has largely happened. To that extent I think that the border between Northern Ireland and the rest of Ireland has become increasingly less important. I would like to see that trend continuing.
What is the role of religion in that?
The Catholic Church in Ireland is an All–Ireland church, as is the Church Of Ireland. So is the Presbyterian Church and so is the Methodist Church. In terms of faith and religion, we don’t understand boundaries anyway. This diocese, in which I am the bishop, the Archdiocese of Armagh – 60% of it is in Northern Ireland, 40% of the people live in the Republic of Ireland, so we don’t have the border in the diocese. We have a political border and two currencies – but we see ourselves as one. I think that I would like to see, in the hearts and minds of the people of Ireland, a greater sense of our identity and, if you don’t mind me saying so, I sometimes think Catholics in the North feel forgotten by their neighbours living in other parts of Ireland. The border is nearly more real in the eyes of people from the south than it is for people in the North.
I never thought of it from that perspective.
I’ve seen newspapers and television programmes where they’ve put images of Ireland without Northern Ireland on it. You sometimes wonder, “Do they literally consider us a foreign country?” That’s my nationalism coming out here!
We’ve talked about the Peace Process. Do you believe that we can’t take peace for granted?
Very definitely. We see this out there in people who want to drag us back, who feel that you can still bomb people into a united Ireland. There are still people in our communities who think that the peace was a lie, and that it was too early to make peace. I don’t agree. I think it was too late. I think far too many people lost their lives, and far too many people were maimed and injured for life – and that’s only talking about the physical injuries, not to mention the psychological injuries. Why else would it be that there’s still much higher levels of anxiety and trauma in Northern Ireland than in Europe. There is a legacy. I don’t want to be moaning on like, “Poor us”. I think it falls to us to try to help ourselves to gradually walk out of this nightmare that was our past.
Did you come from a religious family?
Growing up for me and for my family, our faith and the practice of our Catholic faith was very important. Prayer would have been just a natural part of our day. But it’s only now, looking back, that I realise that in that way, I suppose, I was being quietly formed and quietly called by God.
How old were you when you decided you’d become a priest?
I suppose in my early teens I flirted with the idea of priesthood in my head, but didn’t really do anything about it. I had two cousins, of my mothers, who were missionary priests. One was working in the Philippines and one was in Ecuador. Therefore, I had a sense of calling and vocation. Let my give you an example; my brother had a bike and he wasn’t using it one summer, so I took the bike and I was heading away off to cycle places. Now, was I weird or what? You know what I used to do? I used to stop at churches and go in to pray! I look back now and think, “What kind of teenager was I?”
The Pope said he had a girlfriend before he decided to have a vocation. Were you in a similar boat?
Ah, yeah. I suppose like any other young fella I would have had girlfriends. I had a number of girls I would have dated and gone out with, to use that old term.
And did you ever feel you had perhaps even fallen in love?
I suppose I probably thought I was in love a few times – but, no, I’ve always believed that a good priest is someone that would have also made a good husband and father. Therefore, to me, I would say even during my time studying for the priesthood, and since becoming a priest, I have met many women to whom I’m fairly sure I would be attracted and in another life might have considered, “Would I like to be married to this person? Have children with this person?” But I’ve made a commitment that I have to try to be faithful to – and in that sense I’m no different to my friends from school who got married and struggled with fidelity and being committed for life. In my case, it’s a commitment to priesthood.
Have you regrets about not being a father yourself?
I wouldn’t say regrets. I love being with children. Just yesterday evening I was at a confirmation ceremony and a young couple came up to me looking for a photograph with their newborn baby and I said to them, “Do you mind if I hold the baby?” I gave her my crozier and took the baby in my arms and said, “This is so beautiful.” I am quite sure that it’s not easy – being a father and a husband. That it’s quite difficult.
What is the future of the church in Ireland if a lot of young people are going to church less frequently?
I think that a church without its young people is a church with no future. I accept that a lot fewer young people are regularly going to Sunday mass. But at the same time, in speaking to young people – going into their schools and meeting them – they still would tell you “I’m a Catholic, I pray, I believe in God.” They have a sense of spirituality and I haven’t experienced antipathy from young people towards the church. I’ve sometimes experienced that from middle–aged or older people who have some particular axe to grind about something in the past. But I have found young people to be very open, to be very enthusiastic and I think that we need to engage more on the ground with young people where they are at. Find ways of welcoming them into the church.
How would you do that?
Let me give you an example, just last week I visited a small country parish for an evening liturgy on a Friday night and I was amazed at the amount of young people that were present. And then I noticed that the local priest had them reading, saying prayers, involved in the liturgy, and particularly involved in the singing. I realised that young people will be involved if they are given a role.
Do they see Mass as boring?
When I look back on my own faith journey, as a teenager I was actively involved in my local church, in terms of being involved in the Sunday mass or singing, reading or helping in other ways. So, I do think that for young people, the idea of sitting silently, quietly at a Sunday mass is so far from the fast, always–on, social media world in which they live that it’s very difficult to get them. However, if they’re in there on a Sunday and they’re doing something they suddenly find that, “I like this and it’s important to me.” I go back to what I said; I think a church without young people is a church without a future. I think that the church has young people but their engagement in the life of the church is much less than it used to be.
Is technology making us become more of a self-obsessed society?
I think that there is no question that individualism and a preoccupation with the self is a malaise of the modern world. It’s fuelled by the way we communicate, by our social media and all of these things. I know some friends of mine would say that they can’t cope with their teenage daughter, who sits in the corner of the room with headphones on her and an iPad in her hand and never speaks to them. So, I think that family and community are also struggling with this inward-looking lifestyle. But it doesn’t just apply to young people. I think that there is a danger that we are turning in on ourselves, the whole narcissism of today and of today’s culture, which is a selfishness, yes. Our church tries to break us out of that and to look beyond ourselves to others and their needs.
And your thoughts on the negative aspects of social media?
Well, personally I don’t rail too much against social media because it is about communications. I do notice the contradictions. In a world where we’ve had a communications revolution and where you can talk to your brother in Australia on Facetime, it is interesting that many young people – and they would say this to me – don’t have friends. They don’t have real friends, real companionships. They feel lost; they feel lonely and isolated despite the fact that they are able to communicate.
Your own childhood was totally different...
When I was growing up, the thought that I would have a personal telephone was impossible. But what it did do was, it got me out to go out and meet people. We went out together in groups and enjoyed each other’s company. It’s quite comical now to see a group of young people out and absolutely none of them engaging with each other, but all of them engaging on their mobiles. I often wonder, “Who are they communicating with on their mobiles? Is it other people from the group?” It can be quite funny that you can have people even taking photos of events on their iPhones – when Pope Francis goes by and everyone is reaching for their iPhones to take a picture of him and to capture the moment to look at later on. I think that’s one of the contradictions of the communications revolution – how much real communication is there?
You must be worried about the fall–off in vocations?
If you look at Ireland, 30, 40 or 50 years ago, we had so many priests and sisters and brothers. So many people feeling called to serve God in the religious life. My God, we were exporting priests to all parts of the world. It was an amazing thing. Ireland really had a surplus of priests. Parishes had maybe three, four priests. That was a huge blessing for Ireland. I met a bishop from Africa who would say to you that he knew a nun from Cork who taught him. It’s quite funny in many ways, but it shows you the tremendous contribution that the Irish people, that Irish families made to healthcare, to education and care for the poor and marginalised all around the world. And indeed in Ireland, healthcare, education, so many aspects of life in Ireland depended on the voluntary contribution of priests and religious. Now, that’s all the positive side.
And the less positive side?
The less positive side is that we became conditioned in Ireland to equating church with bishops, priests and nuns and we became less conscious that lay people – men and women in their married and family lives – are equally part of the church. In fact, moreso part of the church. So, when we experience a situation in Ireland now where we have only one priest in a parish, where there used to be three priests, people say, “Ah, we only have one priest.” But that is an opportunity to rediscover the role of lay people in the life of their church. Essentially, what happened in Ireland was that we clericalised the church. It became that unless you were a priest or a nun or a bishop you really didn’t feel that you were the church. So that even when people like yourself, Jason, says to me, “The Church,” they’re immediately thinking of bishops and priests and nuns. Whereas the church is the living community of faith that are the people of God, the body of Christ, of which priests, bishops and nuns are the servants.
But are you worried about the declining numbers?
Of course – yeah. It’s a major issue for a bishop to think where are going to find priests for the future? We have 14 young men from all over the world who are in Ireland studying for the priesthood for Ireland. This is a new approach that we’re taking. In some ways we’re borrowing back from the churches that the priests and sisters of Ireland served and we’re saying, “Could you now come and help us?” Because we need a period of renewal in the church in Ireland and that renewal is going to take, I would imagine, about 30 years – to renew and refresh the church in Ireland and get over a lot of the struggles and the immaturity, really, that we have in our church.
So the answer is to import priests?
We need to be courageous and creative in welcoming priests from abroad to help us over this period. It’s not forever. You think of America; for a long time in the ‘50s and ‘60s, the American church was served by Irish priests. Now it’s served by native priests from the United States of America. The Irish church helped out another part of the universal church that was in need. Now we are in need and we look to the universal church for assistance.
What about the idea of priests being allowed to get married?
I personally have no objection to the idea that the church may at some point decide to make it an option for priests to get married. At the moment, that is not the position of our church and I’m happy to support that. I think there are great graces within celibacy and it’s a huge gift to the church for a young man to give his life totally to the church, or a young woman in the religious life to do that. If I look to some of our reformed traditions, who do have clergy able to marry, they’re also struggling for vocations. If for example, celibacy at some point in the church were to become optional, I would hate to think that it was as some quick fix to the vocation crisis. I don’t think that’s what it would be about. For me, I would like to think that celibacy would remain in the life of the church. It’s really a question for the future. Certainly, at the moment that is the discipline of the church and I am happy to support it.
But you would have no objection in the future if the Pope said, “Let’s discuss this and let it happen”?
Of course not.
What are your thoughts on the rise of radical Islam?
It’s quite shocking actually. I would be horrified that anyone in the name of religion, or in some kind of twisted understanding of God and of faith, would so awfully take away human life. I can’t understand how you can reconcile that with any faith. I am conscious that down through 2,000 years of Christianity that some people at some point in history have been able to twist the Christian faith to justify awful, horrific things. I take solace from those Muslim leaders that would very clearly tell us that this is not what the Quran tells them to do – and who disassociate themselves with these awful, heinous crimes that are happening in Europe now too, but sadly have been happening in Africa and in parts of the Middle East for many years.
On the subject of clerical abuse, I presume you’ve seen the film Spotlight?
Yeah, films like Spotlight and many of the harrowing, but very powerful, documentaries that have been done on this issue over the past 10–15 years serve to remind people like me of the awful scandal of the past – and to alert me to continuing to work to ensure that the church today is a safe place for children and young people, which I hope and trust that it is. I don’t like seeing films and documentaries like this because I find them painful, and then I sort of cop myself on and I say, “What am I thinking I feel pain for? What about the people who were hurt?” The trust and love that they had for their church was betrayed by people taking advantage of them, and abusing them in these criminal ways.
A lot of those who were abused were involved in Church activities...
In meeting with victims and survivors of abuse it struck me that many of them were actually families that were very close to the church. This is the awful thing about it. They were the altar servers, they were the helpers, they were the people who were involved in their parish life and, not only have they been hugely let down and betrayed by people that they had trusted, but many of them, when they came forward, didn’t find that they were believed or obstacles were put... you could see that in Spotlight, that it was a kind of a conspiracy of cover up really and a lack of transparency and a fear of scandal – which ironically turned out to be the greatest scandal of all.
Prior to you being appointed Primate of All Ireland, you told me that the church could never do enough to repair the damage.
That is true. I often find myself saying to priests that this is something that we will carry with us for the remainder of our lives as priests. Sometimes people say to me – in fact, I was at a gathering recently where a very well–meaning lay man stood up and said, “Now that the church has moved forward and put the scandals of the past behind them...” I found myself reacting against that, because the day that we try to forget about these awful things is the day that we let our guard down. We know this, not just in the church, but in so many areas of life – in entertainment, in community groups. Really the way to keep people safe is to be vigilant and on the alert, because horrifically there are people in our community, in our family, in all aspects of life who will abuse – and we need to be on the alert for that.
Do you think that, if you were the Primate of All Ireland at the time, things would’ve worked out differently?
I don’t think I could say that. I dread to think that had I been in this position in the ‘70s and ‘80s that maybe I would have been a part also of the systemic malaise and false thinking that was there. I daren’t think that I could say, “If only I had been there this wouldn’t have happened.”
You campaigned in the same sex marriage referendum last year. Did it sadden you that it was passed?
Well, you use the term ‘we campaigned’...
Well, you were very vocal.
Essentially, what we did was we were very conscious that this was a very important debate in the country about the meaning of marriage. Therefore, we tried, in as compassionate a way as possible to speak what we believe is the truth about marriage – that marriage is between a man and a woman, that marriage is open to the gift of life. My disappointment is that we were talking about what we believed marriage to be, and that society and the state should support that unique relationship that there is between a man and a woman and their children. That’s something that I suppose we will continue to do, not in any way intending to be homophobic, but it’s something that we feel, in conscience, that we would like to be able to continue to express.
Would you see homosexuality as a sin?
To be a homosexual person is not a sin. The church really speaks in terms of our sexuality as something that is open to creation and open to the creation of life. The church sees the proper place for the fullness of the expression of sexuality, that is in terms of sexual intercourse, as something that should happen within marriage.
There’s talk now about the 8th Amendment would that be something that you would be very vocal on again?
Yeah, I would think that that would be something that we would be much more vocal on, because what we’re talking about here is what we believe to be the most fundamental right of all, which is the right to life. We feel that we must speak up for the equal right to life of the woman and the unborn child. Personally, I can’t understand why Ireland, having voted so strongly for what was termed a marriage equality referendum, would now be seeking the views and the people of Ireland to vote for life inequality, when it is human life. And, quite simply, the 8th Amendment expresses that. It expresses the equal right to life of a mother and her unborn child. I cannot understand how we as a country would want to remove that which is such a powerful expression of the equality of the right to life of all people – the most vulnerable. What it does call on us to do in Ireland is to be a place of compassion and care for everyone who is struggling.
Where does a good, kind, honest person who is an atheist go when he or she dies?
I’d like to think they go to heaven and I would like to think that God, who is all loving, would reward them for their good. I think that somebody who is an atheist would be angry with me for even saying that. If somebody does not want God’s love, or makes a very deliberate decision to cut themselves off, then I don’t know. I would like to think that God understands where people are in their lives.
What are your thoughts on the current political situation?
The politicians that are sitting around the table these days are the people that we voted for, we put our trust in them to lead the country and so what we expect them to do is move a little bit beyond party interests and what the party machine tells them to do. To think creatively and imaginatively and to think about the real issues on the ground. So, we need to think not about what’s going to advance me or my party, but about why did the people vote for us? What was it that we were saying that the people put their trust in? And bring that to the table.
What do you think of the mix of political parties and Independents in the new Dáil?
They certainly need to support one another in forming a government, which will have a reasonable chance of lasting, but will allow people to express themselves more openly on issues. I think that one of the mistakes that we make is saying that the party will decide how we will all vote, and we will all vote in accordance with that way. We need to free that up a bit in this country and allow people to express their personal views on the issues that matter. It was very interesting that so many people chose to move away from mainline parties and vote for people that they felt they could trust and would express their opinions in the Dáil chamber. I’ve always had some reservations about a party whip system, where everybody must go along a certain road. I’ve always been worried about (how) in the middle of that, the party’s policy is decided by some kind of faceless people rather than real people on the ground.
Moving onto a more light-hearted question, did you find Father Ted amusing?
Ah, yeah. I’ve never been insulted by it. I’ve had people that have written to me and said that they were insulted by it and that I should be insulted by it. I have a pretty broad sense of humour. I think that it was like any satirical comedy programme that you would have about politics or sport or the priesthood – it was funny. I wouldn’t go much beyond that. I would have laughed at it.
Do you have an iPod?
I have iTunes, alright, on my iPad. I have an iPod but I tend to listen to music on my iPad now. You’re talking to somebody here who listens to every possible kind of music. From classical and opera, through to jazz, blues, pop. If music is well performed – I’m always enthralled by a good musician and by people who clearly have a wonderful gift. I think music can bring such joy to the world and therefore I love all kinds of music. I like playing the keyboards and I play brass, so I used to like pop that also crossed over and involved orchestral stuff. I used to love The Beatles’ music where they had orchestral arrangements. I used to love ELO – I see they’re back in vogue again! Somebody told me they’re going to be at Glastonbury this year. Anything where you married pop and classical, orchestral and brass – that’s the kind of stuff that I always enjoyed. Like Simon & Garfunkel, people like that when I was growing up.
I understand you taught one of The Undertones, Paul McLoone?
Yeah, but he wasn’t part of the original Undertones. I do remember in school everyone starting to jump up and down and do the head–banging at the time. I can’t imagine trying it now! I would have known Feargal Sharkey and his family. We used to joke, because you know ‘My Perfect Cousin’? We knew the perfect cousin that Feargal Sharkey was singing about! So he used to get quite a bit of slagging about that.
Would you enjoy a drink occasionally?
I would very occasionally. I mean a glass of wine at a meal, but I wouldn’t really have been into a social drinking scene ever in my life.
How do you like to unwind?
I don’t get too much time for unwinding in my role at the moment. I usually try to get up early in the morning and go for a walk. I do a bit of singing still, particularly for the liturgy, and I like to sing with the choir. I have my trombone still and I’m threatening to take it out and play it again someday soon. I like listening to music. I like the garden; I like being out and about.
Do you still pinch yourself that you’re the Primate of All Ireland?
I sometimes get frightened when I think about it and the scale of responsibility of the calling that God has given me. Whenever I think about it I immediately start to think about how weak I am as a person and as a human being and my own sinfulness, I suppose. I think there’s no human being who doesn’t struggle in his life with selfishness and sin, or whatever. Therefore I feel humbled, maybe that’s a good word, humbled to be in the role that I’m in.
And theoretically you could become Pope one day?
So could you, Jason! I think I have quite enough to be getting on with. I wouldn’t even dream of it. I mean you don’t think that way. I would never have thought that I would be here where I am today! (laughs)