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The Catholic Church Has the Least to Lose if Sacraments Leave Schools

4 min readJun 7, 2025
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You don’t need much imagination to picture the scene: an eight-year-old girl and her mother, side by side at a salon, getting their fingernails glossed in French manicure style. Both have their hair in curlers. Some wear makeup, others a touch of fake tan. The little girl will don a white dress and veil. It mirrors a wedding morning, more or less. Once you add a bouncy castle, the metaphor starts to buckle, but the scale of spending — sometimes thousands of euro — keeps it grounded. As one journalist once said, “The adults are far more preoccupied with the frills and frippery of these occasions than the actual religious meaning”

(As an aside, Signed Mothers Everywhere, in the headline goes a long way to prove my point below)

Most families preparing for First Communion seem more concerned with painted hallways, custom cupcakes adorned with crucifixes, the availability of themed bouncy castles, and even slimming down in time for the big day — rather than the actual sacrament itself. It’s unlikely that many have considered the teacher delivering the lessons, who may or may not share the beliefs behind them. Nor are they likely to have given much thought to the classmates excluded from all of it — year after year — quietly seated at the back of the classroom. And in the ever-chirping school WhatsApp group, there’s little room for the views of parents who don’t subscribe to it all but must politely scroll through tips on venues, hair, and liturgical etiquette.

It’s equally rare that anyone thinks about the priest or parishioners who host these events. They’re visited once a year, often briefly and noisily. It calls to mind Father Stack in Father Ted, who unapologetically destroyed the parochial house and shrugged, “Well I had my fun, and that’s all that matters.”

But for many, it isn’t fun.
For the children excluded from what’s happening in their classroom daily.
For the teachers expected to evangelise against their own conscience.
For the parents with no say — unable to join a Board of Management unless they agree to support the school’s religious ethos.
And, it must be said, even for practicing Catholics who wish their faith to be more than a costume party.

This annual pageant can feel uncomfortably close to the story of the Golden Calf — a ritual stripped of substance, but rich in spectacle.

We often hear the argument that the Church is determined to keep its grip on education. But if the sacraments were removed from the school day and shifted to after-school parish programmes, I’d argue the Catholic Church wouldn’t be the ones who’d lose out the most.

There are, after all, a lot of people with a vested interest in keeping things just as they are.

A woman once messaged me on Instagram, explaining that she visits schools with ceramic plates that children paint with little churches. When she heard people calling for the end of sacramental preparation during school hours, she described it as “negative.” I imagine she’s not alone in her concern — her income likely depends on it. But she’s only one of many: hairdressers, nail salons, bakers of religious cupcakes, balloon arch stylists, bouncy castle renters — all part of an informal Communion economy.

Clothes shops rely on the seasonal surge in Communion attire. Piercing salons experience a spike in bookings in May. Hotels and restaurants prepare for one of their busiest weekends of the year. Even EuroDisney gets a bounce, as some opted-out families head abroad to avoid the awkwardness of the big day.

We’ve built an entire mini-industry in Ireland around this Catholic milestone, and many families benefit from it — from painters sprucing up hallways, to crafters designing Communion cards and handmade jewellery.

So when people insist that parents want to keep Catholic schools because of tradition or faith, it’s fair to ask whether something else is at play. For some, it might be less about spiritual formation and more about the spin-off benefits. The sacraments, after all, bring serious footfall — and serious money.

But here’s the key point: removing the sacraments from the school day wouldn’t prevent anyone from participating. Families could still prepare their children in the parish, just as they do for other rites of passage. The difference is that fewer would choose it — and those who did would likely take it more seriously. It might even help restore the sacraments to something meaningful rather than the transactional industry it’s become.

Strangely enough, the Catholic Church might benefit most from this shift. Children receiving the sacraments would likely come from families with an active interest in faith, not those simply following the herd.

It would also mean a more equitable system in our schools — where all children are treated the same, teachers aren’t required to teach doctrine they don’t believe, and parents are free from either guilt or exclusion.

It’s true that this isn’t the only reason parents want Catholic schools to remain as they are — but it’s a factor we rarely talk about. And while some detractors raise loud warnings about “gender ideology” replacing religion in schools, that’s a manufactured fear — but it’s a conversation for another day. Suffice to say, it’s nonsense.

It’s time we finally accept that religious formation doesn’t belong in the school day. The economic knock-on effects might be felt by a few industries and cottage businesses, but the moral and educational case is far more important.

Let the sacraments live in churches — not in cupcake orders and WhatsApp groups.

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Simon Lewis
Simon Lewis

Written by Simon Lewis

Primary school principal, podcaster and poet. 👨🏼‍🏫 Writes about the Irish primary education system. Tweets from @simonmlewis

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