A decade ago, Dublin's Unitarian Church had a congregation of just 30. Now, the church whose followers have been described as 'atheists who like hymns' has a fast-growing membership. Anna Carey reports
Every day, thousands of Dubliners pass the Unitarian church in St Stephen's Green. Built in 1863, it's a lovely blend of Gothic and Classical architecture; it's also known as the site of the Damer Hall, once the centre of Irish-language theatre in Dublin. But while the building is familiar, the denomination that worships there may not be.
Unitarianism has its origins in the Dissenters of the 17th century, but it was in the 19th century that the movement really expanded. The Unitarians rejected the doctrines of the Trinity and original sin; they also debated the literal divinity of Jesus, while revering him as a teacher. The church's emphasis on tolerance and social justice meant that Unitarians were prominent in many of the progressive movements of the time, from abolition to women's rights. And for a small church, it has certainly attracted some big names over the past two centuries - famous Unitarians include Beatrix Potter, Charles Dickens, Sylvia Plath and Simpsons creator Matt Groening.
While Unitarianism in the UK is now in decline, Dublin's long-established Unitarian church's congregation is growing. Just a decade ago, the congregation had dwindled to just 30 people. Things have changed since then, however, and when I pay a visit to a service one wet, windy August morning, the pews are well filled. Most of these people were not brought up in the church. In fact, just a tiny minority of the congregation grew up in Unitarian families. The rest, who come from a wide variety of religious backgrounds, have discovered Unitarianism for themselves.
Gavin Harte was brought up in a liberal Church of Ireland family, but discovered Unitarianism about eight years ago when he attended the church's midweek lunchtime meditation sessions. "I think there's a huge thirst in society for answers to the big questions - what is life all about?" he says. "And I think that the Unitarian church, for the thinking person, is a great opportunity to exchange ideas."
The exchange of ideas is an important part of Unitarianism. There's no hierarchy - the minister, Bill Darlison, is employed by the congregation, rather than appointed from above. The congregation also contributes to the service, with members sometimes conducting the service rather than the minister. Darlison encourages debate. "There's always an opportunity after service for someone to ask a question or express their disagreement."
As a result, every service is different, something that appeals to Doireann Ní Bhriain, a member of the congregation. "I find that I actually listen very carefully to everything that's being said," she says. "You're drawn into listening, and maybe even listening critically. You don't just let it wash over you." Ní Bhriain first attended a Unitarian service when her liberal Presbyterian mother-in-law was visiting. "There was no road to Damascus moment," she says. "I just though I wouldn't mind coming back. I enjoyed the service, and it seemed like a nice thing to do. It wasn't like I'd found what I was looking for - I hadn't really been looking for anything. But I really appreciated that space on a Sunday morning. It made me ask questions - about myself, about how I was living."
Unitarianism's spiritual focus on the real world and how to make it a better place is part of its appeal, not just to liberal Christians, but to people who don't consider themselves religious. Rory Delany comes from a Catholic background, but since his teens he's always thought of himself a borderline atheist. "I've heard Unitarianism described as being for atheists who like hymns," he laughs.
All the members say that minister Bill Darlison deserves a lot of the credit for the church's growing popularity. A friendly, funny Yorkshireman, Darlison grew up as a Catholic before discovering Unitarianism 20 years ago. "I still have a great affection for the Catholic church," he says. "I wouldn't feel out of place at Mass." Unitarianism doesn't require its congregation to change any former beliefs - "if someone wants to attend, that's enough".
But there's a common bond, exemplified in the church's motto: "In the love of truth and the spirit of Christ, we unite for the worship of God and the service of our fellows". "There is feeling of community," says Darlison. "I think it's not that we think doctrine is unimportant. What we realise is that it's fruitless to fight over [ these issues], and they need not be a point of division. We try as a community to find the things that link the religions of the world rather than things that people think divide them, and we feel free to take our spiritual nourishment from whatever source it is offered."
Unitarianism's lack of hierarchy and strict rules has led some to dismiss it as a casual religion. But Darlison disagrees. "People think it's not too demanding, but it's not an easy option," he says. "You can't surrender your spiritual life to someone else - you're responsible for it. We see surrendering your spiritual life as a betrayal." It's not hard to see the appeal of Unitarianism in modern Ireland. "I think [ Unitarianism] can be summed up in the three words we take as our principles: freedom, reason and tolerance," says Darlison. "We hold with absolute freedom of people to choose their religious path and to have that path honoured and tolerated. And we recognise the role of reason in human affairs and the importance of science. I still want a more poetic approach to things, but those words do sum up what Unitarianism is about."
Maybe this is why the members I met report no Damascus moments - they joined not because of a divine revelation of a previously undreamt of "truth", but because the Unitarian ethos reflects their existing views. "I always was a Unitarian," says the church's registrar Bridget Spain. "I just didn't know it."
The Dublin Unitarian Church Open Day takes place next Saturday