A Trek Through Dublin Churches V: Church of the Divine Word, Marley Grange Parish

According to the website of this parish, "Marley Grange Parish is in the Southside of Dublin, close to Dundrum and Ballinteer". It's also close to Rathfarnham and St. Edna's, where Patrick Pearse ran his pioneering Irish school. Indeed, very soon before I came to the church, I passed the area known as "Hermitage", from which Pearse took the title of his pamphlet, "From a Hermitage". It's a very green area, full of lawns and fields. The church lies at the end of its own lane, somewhat recessed.

I'd never been to the Church of the Divine Word, but I must say, it might be the most beautiful church I've ever attended.

It's quite a small, simple church. It doesn't really have any nooks and crannies, aside from a shrine of our Lady which is just behind the altar. It's rather minimalist.

It has the sort of atmosphere that I always think of as "spacey". Otherworldly, bright, sleek. I suppose I associate this aesthetic with space-ships and space stations in science fiction films and television, and it's an atmosphere (for me) full of awe and wonder and a sense of limitless discovery.

The beautiful stained glass is the most striking feature of the church, especially the panel behind the altar (below). I assumed the website would tell me the name of the artist, but I can't find it. It's very much in the style of the Celtic Revival, which I like.

What I like most about the Celtic Revival was its determination to break into a new aesthetic "space". I hate to use that kind of language, but I can't think of a better term. The attitude of the Celtic Revival (and the Gaelic Revival) seemed to be: "Everything is going to be different now, we are going to remake everything." There was a world-creating energy about it, a sort of spiritual independence, an assertion of a Celtic future as well as a Celtic past. There's a newness about everything that partakes of that aesthetic; not only a newness, but a timelessness. That's the best I can do to describe it. This church was built in the early eighties, but the stained glass certainly seems inspired by the Celtic Revival. And, even if it's not, it reminds me of it.

I went to a Saturday morning Mass at this parish. There was a good turnout. The priest preached a homily mostly on Isaiah's predictions of peace, swords beaten into ploughshares and so on. He said that Christians had to go on having hope this would happen, despite what's going on in the world today. It seemed odd to me that he was interpreting it in such literal terms. I always assumed Isaiah's prophecy referred to the end of times, or the Church, or Heaven. Perhaps I am wrong.

As it's a Servite church, there was a prayer to St. Peregrine after Mass, and exposition of a relic belonging to him.

I loved this church. "Eternal Word" is a good name for it, as it really gave me a sense of the eternal. Perhaps it would be less impressive in winter, when bright sunlight wasn't flooding into it, but I think I would still like it a lot, at any time of year.