Denial, Apathy or Lament
How will we respond to the Mother and Baby Homes Report?
By Richard Carson
(From the April - June 2021 issue of VOX)
The memorial at Mount Jerome Cemetery in Harold’s Cross
Richard Carson reflects on the report from the Mother and Baby Homes Commission and the often-overlooked implications for Protestants and evangelicals.
My ministry has been shaped by two disorientating commutes. The first was in my early twenties when I took a bus from the leafy suburbs of south side Dublin, where I worked in a fee-paying boarding school into the inner city to work with families affected by HIV and addiction. The second was over a decade later when I cycled from that same inner city community out to my young family in the slightly less leafy suburbs.
“Each day I would pass a cemetery where over 200 children lay buried in an unmarked grave.”
Each day I would pass a cemetery where over 200 children lay buried in an unmarked grave, their destiny fulfilled under the auspices of the same broad movement in which my inner city work was grounded - Irish evangelicalism. While the first commute shook my understanding of advantage and the agency of God in mission, the second shook my foundation of faith and social action. Now, following a five-year investigation by the State, the legacy of Irish evangelicalism stands condemned and in the area where Jesus reserved some of His harshest words - the treatment of the child.
A well-known principle in safeguarding children is that the welfare of the child is paramount. The Mother and Baby Home report and its primary sources outline how, in multiple ways and on repeated occasions, the application of giving a cup of cold water in Jesus’s name compromised the welfare of the child. The physical condition and spiritual condition of children were divorced from each other, often in profoundly disturbing ways. Discipleship from a Protestant evangelical perspective was viewed as essential, even if this meant applying sectarian approaches to fostering, adoption and referral which compromised the child’s best interests. State inspection was actively resisted and all to avoid a core problem - the false belief that ‘illegitimacy’ itself conferred a fragility upon the lives of newborns such that the high mortality rate in the homes could be explained away.
There are two ways in which the readers of VOX from Protestant and evangelical traditions may be tempted to understand this story. One is that it is about just one small institution; an isolated case limited to the actions of a tiny few. This view is understandable given the fragmented nature of Protestant evangelicalism and its institutions, in contrast to Roman Catholicism. However, it would be a far from accurate analysis.
Those in governance of Bethany Home (one of three from a Protestant ethos investigated by the Commission) came from the leadership of Anglican, Presbyterian, Brethren, Baptist, Methodist and other churches. But the report does not just focus on the 18 investigated homes. It also highlights entry and exit points for the women and young children. So around a hundred other institutions are named including around a dozen of Protestant evangelical ethos. Further to that, the report outlines the broader lives of the mothers in the homes. There are few venues of Protestant evangelical life in 20th century Dublin and Wicklow, which do not get at least a mention in the text.
At this point, one could easily focus the blame for what happened on a broader field of ‘society’ as some have done. The Taoiseach was criticised for this approach. Alternatively one may take a forensic approach and pick out particular homes for analysis of their governance structures. This is done while ignoring other homes or generalising the links to the homes as just involving one’s ‘members’ even though these members were actually senior leaders. This is the approach taken by the Church of Ireland and Irish Church Missions. Yet another approach is just to remain silent, allowing the fragmented nature of Protestant evangelicalism to hide one’s links to persons and places.
“If the testimonies of survivors and the presence of infant cadavers cannot evoke lament among Christians, never mind words of repentance, then there is something very wrong.”
A second way one might be tempted to understand the story is as if the details only became known in January 2021. This is understandable given the recent media coverage but there is little new in the report. The story of Bethany Home broke over a decade ago in the national press (and was reported in VOX magazine in 2010). The research of Niall Meehan uncovered a litany of State complicity, child trafficking and inappropriate adoptions. The 1930s, 40s or 50s may be worthy of further investigation and analysis. But the silence of the 2010s demand no less scrutiny. If the testimonies of survivors and the presence of infant cadavers cannot evoke lament among Christians, never mind words of repentance, then there is something very wrong at the heart of Irish evangelicalism.
So what can be done? In some ways the answer is simple - turn up and tell the truth. God is still worthy of our worship, of our lament and of our prayers. Survivors of these homes are still alive. They can be contacted, they can be listened to and they can receive redress. Their records can be released, including those held by churches and individuals. While some of the governance lines have ended many of the buildings still stand, some still in use for Christian mission. Truth can be spoken there.
At the annual memorial service, in the Victorian Chapel of Mount Jerome Cemetery, the Bethany survivors select hymns and songs from their time in the home and as an expression of their own faith. Those who claimed the name of Jesus in their governance and leadership of the home cast the shadow, which drives the survivors’ activism. Yet still the words ring out “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” This is grace. The appropriate response to the story of Bethany is, as with all Christian mission, a response to grace.
It is the survivors who now offer the cup of cold water to those tasked with rendering the 20th century story of Irish evangelicalism. The question is, will it be accepted or will it continue to be ignored?
Richard Carson is the Chief Executive of ACET Ireland, which runs a range of projects improving health at the intersections of HIV, addiction, faith, sexuality, minority ethnic groups, poverty and more.
