A person's faith is shaped by life experiences. I was born in 1930 in inner city Dublin, one of seven children. We lived in a big, rambling Georgian house over the pub. My parents were great story-tellers; so folklore, history, and religion were always being discussed. Our family, like most families, enjoyed religion, but we were critical of the Church,

The Franciscans were loved, the Christian Brothers respected. My four brothers went to the local Christian Brothers' school; my two sisters and I were educated from 4-17 by the enclosed Dominican nuns who were quite tolerant and open to discussion. The dark account of religious oppression was not our experience. We were very conscious of the poverty at the time and the convents that served the poor with orphanages, penny dinners, and minimum fees for a broad education, especially drama and music.

My Dad used to quote Jim Larkin, the Labour leader- "Not food merely, but flowers as well on the table of the workers"- and the papal encyclicals that condemned the palaces of the rich frowning on the hovels of the workers. Being Republicans, we never expected too much from the Vatican or the Irish bishops. 

Once, Dad organised the prayers at a Protestant customer's funeral. My mother told it in confession and was startled to hear that it was a 'reserved' sin which only the bishop could absolve. She talked her way out of it, later saying how preposterous it was to pass such a judgement on an act of charity. My Father, who enjoyed confession and long discussions with his Jesuit confessor, refused to admit it was sinful anyway.

We were never afraid of the Church or hell fire, and we loved stories about diabolical possession. In fact, the first time I saw a woman being 'churched', I thought she was being exorcised.

The Church's attitude in the Mother and Child 1950's Health Bill controversy helped me to realise that the authorities were not sound on social justice. When one of my brothers did some time in the political wing of Mountjoy Prison, the political prisoners were refused the sacraments. Naturally, they organised their own spiritual path and felt that until you stood in the dock, condemned by Church and state, you did not understand Christ's passion. Like many others, he was ordained for the missions and went to Argentina. The hierarchy there didn't achieve the courage of the Brazilian bishops in opposing tyranny. But he was lucky to serve with Bishop Angelleli who identified with the poor and was killed in a fake car accident.

The great heroes of the Church, apart from the poor, were the Little Brothers of Charles de Foucauld. The military junta feared them more than the freedom fighters, because they preached justice and identified with the oppressed. The Brothers were wiped out, their Superior, Auturo Peoli, forced on the run.

Then, I nursed for a few years in Boston, USA, like thousands of others in the Sixties. It was a Jewish hospital and the Jewish prayers and liturgy were inspiring. At the time of the Civil Rights Movement, the Catholic Church was not the leader in justice and equality: my militant black friend from Louisiana talked about segregated, inferior churches and how coming with her family to live in Boston created problems for her parish priest.

I did my midwifery with the Medical Missionaries of Mary and was very impressed with the friendly, happy atmosphere in their international hospital, so different from other strict, authoritarian hospitals. Listening to doctors and sisters from Africa was good; the story of their founder, Mother Mary Moutins' long struggle with the Vatican to allow Sisters to be obstetricians was inspiring. Where was the Holy Spirit?

Finally, I worked for 17 years as a Public Health nurse in the Gaeltacht [Irish-speaking] Aran Islands off Galway. Many people are turning again to Celtic spirituality to find a path forward: the very clear understanding of religion, coupled with a critical, healthy anti-clericalism and humour, served the people well for 1,500 years. As my thanks to them for keeping the Irish alive through all the centuries of shame and poverty and the patronising city academics, I introduced the Credit Union to the three islands.

The Credit Union is my highest form of spirituality: ordinary people understand how to use their savings and interest on loans to their own and neighbours' benefit- Not for charity, not for profit,  but for service.

We must strive for ethical banks and co-operatives; otherwise we are guilty of serving the obscene greed and exploitation of an anti-christian capitalist system.

Pensioners like me wonder what the future of religion is in Ireland. We have seen a golden age (in spite of blemishes) of the great missionary orders. The sheer masculinity of Cardinal Connell's promotion in Rome depressed me. A nun friend said she supposed the Sisters were doing the cooking and clearing up. As Fr. Padraig O'Stendun (a popular Gaelic writer) says, "It's a one-legged church." We MUST have truly holy women in Church government!

Some say it will be a church of mystics where each one will find God individually. I'm curious about a new phenomenon, the Houses of Prayer, set up by ordinary, working class mystics, who are now attracting more followers than the traditional orders. These "Servants" may be married or single, female and male, young and old. Although they are not  intellectuals or academics, they are thriving outside the outdated paternalism and control of traditional Church institutions. Is the Holy Spirit at work? These Servants are developing a personal relationship with God, Mary, the angels and saints; but they are also involved in organising relief help for Russia and poor areas. They sound like what Jesus wanted.

There is a growth of up-market religious journals. They are entertaining; but some are pathetically snobbish and possibly yearn for the top intellectuals obviously contemptuous of remote, humble parishes like Bethlehem, and the failure of Calvary.

A wise writer described his neighbour who had more degrees than a boy would get burrs on his jersey going through a hedge: "Ach, they didn't do him much harm! Shield our minds from the distortion of pride!"

A small group of Irish Catholics and Presbyterians here in Belfast have started "Siol/Seed" to promote the responsible use of money. People are asked to contribute £10 per month, interest free, for 5 years. We will operate a Saturday Fair Trade Shop, plus a network of justice groups, an educational facility and, please God, a branch of the Ethical Bank- People Before Profit. It's only a seed, but it's growing.