Jill Irving, who is 26 and from Liverpool, came to Ireland seven years ago after meeting Paul Collier, who is from Co Meath. They live in Balbriggan, in north Co Dublin, with their two children, Lauren, who is almost five, and Seán, who is 18 months old.

Irving describes her religious background as "nothing". Although her mother's family was Catholic, her parents were not religious. (Collier has a Catholic background but is generally non-practising.)

Irving discovered Catholicism when it was time for Lauren to be baptised. She began to think about religion then, but as time passed the idea went out of her head. Then Seán was born, and he had to be christened.

She thought about it again and this time decided to join the Church. She went to see Father Michael Carey at the presbytery in Balbriggan to see what she should do, "how to start and where to begin". He arranged tuition that lasted from January to April of last year.

It wasn't a bit like she thought it would be. For a start the people helping her along were three women: one 21, another in her 50s, the third in her 80s. "It was more about everyday experiences than readings," she recalls. "It was about bringing

you into the community." She liked that.

Last March she and about 20 others in the Dublin archdiocese who wished to become Catholics were presented for election. It is a liturgical rite by which the Church ratifies candidates' readiness for the sacraments of initiation - baptism, confirmation and Eucharist - and they in turn, now the elect, express the will to receive the sacraments.

It was not always like that. Until 1972 adults who wanted to join the Catholic Church went through six weeks of "convert instructions" and were baptised quietly on a Sunday afternoon with a few relatives present, two of whom probably also served as godparents.

A short time later, perhaps the following Sunday, the new converts received their first communion, but probably with little attention to the fact that they were joining a

religious community.

Confirmation was left until

the next visit by the bishop.

In 1972 that approach was changed radically by the introduction of a revised rite for adults who wanted to become Catholics.

It emphasised the need for a "living experience" of the Church, not just knowledge about it. Instruction became but one part of a wider experience of Catholicism.

The rite put an end to the quiet, almost secretive baptism of adults, making the welcoming of new Christians a community event. Under the old system the priest was often the only member of the parish with whom the converts came in contact.

When they joined the community on the Sunday after their baptism they could feel isolated simply because they had not been introduced to other parishioners.

The rite also stresses that conversion is an extended process begun by the Holy Spirit. When people express the desire to become a Catholic, according to the Church, they are responding to what the Spirit has already started - and they must regard it as a journey into faith

usually much longer than the old-fashioned six weeks of convert instructions.

It also restored the original order of the sacraments on initiation: baptism, confirmation and Eucharist. The three are celebrated as one sacrament of Christian initiation, ideally at the Easter vigil.

And it was during the Easter vigil last year that Irving was baptised and confirmed and when she received her first communion. She chose two women as her godparents: Catherine Gaskin, a friend, and one of her

three women tutors, Mary Rose Flannery.

The experience has been extremely beneficial, she says. She feels that her existence has become more meaningful, that she has guidance and that she is closer to the community in Balbriggan.

She goes to Mass on Sundays and practises her Catholicism seriously. But she would not describe herself as pious. And nobody has said

anything to her or Collier about

getting married. It is simply not an issue, she says.