Part of what makes Ireland's referendum such a miraculous moment for civil and human rights is the context of the country that held it. Ireland has a reputation for roots (both of the crop and of the religious variety), character, and resistance to change. Change has come slowly in Ireland, to be sure, but popular opinion always seems to ignore the fury by which the Irish fought for equality throughout their revolutionary process. That passion has carried forward, "for quite a long time," Irish Senator David Norris says, "the Republic of Ireland has been much more tolerant than, say, the Irish community in New York."
Contemporary Ireland is a product of it's conservative past yes, but also its collective quest for rights. “Nobody has been diminished,” the Archbishop of Dublin said after the votes were tallies. “Irish people comprehensively rejected the notion that our republic is a zero-sum game, that what is given to one must be taken from another. Everybody gains from equality — even those who didn’t think they wanted it." A remarkably open minded take from a closed minded church. Senator. scholar, and life long gay rights advocate David Norris, joined Jim and Margery from Dublin to talk about the historic vote, and the role of the Catholic Church in Ireland moving forward.
Not a Catholic himself, Norris still considers Diarmuid Martin, the Archbishop of Dublin " a decent intelligent man," taking umbrage instead with the power structure, and institutionalized bigotry of the Catholic church itself. It's this same framework and attitude that continues to frustrate many Catholics worldwide, as they struggle to challenge a conservative clergy, who can be, as Norris describes, "pretty mediocre intellectually, and out of touch with modern reality."
Even in Ireland, the days of the Catholic Church's unanswerable political power are gone. "The government used to routinely send legislation to the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Dublin for his say so," Norris recalls. The political power of the church in Ireland was "unimaginable." Now, things are different.
The concerning synergy between the Irish state and the Catholic church came to a head as the child abuse scandals broke. "The church no longer commands absolute political authority in Ireland." Like the scandal in Boston, church leaders moved sex abusers around, concealed reports, and knowingly enabled abuse to continue. "The clerical hierarchy was seen as complicit with child sex abusers," Norris explains.
While he doesn't believe the Catholic church should wield political power, David Norris can't help but "regret the decline in moral leadership" of religion-- his own Anglican Church of Ireland included. But the fault of that weakening, Norris says, falls squarely on the institutions themselves: "They just don't have the right people. They don't have people of vision. And they don't have people young people can respond to." The young people that came by "planes, trains, mailboats, and steamers" to vote for equality for Ireland last week.
There is hope though. "When I saw [Pope Francis] coming out on to the balcony [for his inauguration].. I suddenly felt, here is somebody!" Norris points to the Pope's actions: "the way he's looked after migrants," and his decision to go after the Vatican bank, his passion for "speaking out for the marginalized, for the unemployed across Europe" against the backdrop of the EU's financial crisis as signs of a new church. But most of all, Norris points to Francis' humility. "Here is a man," he says, "who got down in prison, and washed the feet of women prisoners." He might just be "a beacon of hope for Christians all over the world," although "he's not great on gay rights," Norris admits with a chuckle.
But that chuckle comes with a challenge. Norris is not done yet. At it's core, the notion of marriage equality concerns itself with the equal dignity of human beings —a principle that is both Christian and Irish. It is clear that Norris' life-long dedication to equality— providing character witnesses to people on trial for being gay, his landmark court case legalizing homosexuality, and his impassioned cry of 'liberté, égalité, fraternité the night of the referendum—' that he is both Christian and Irish as well.
