Bishop-Elect Kevin Doran: “Vocation is not about achievement or personal advancement.”
The truism that “the past is a foreign country, they do things
 differently there” is very apt when you compare Ireland of the 1950s to
 the present-day.  
Bishop-elect Kevin Doran was born in June 
1953 in a Dublin that was poles apart from modern Ireland. In the 1950s,
 the majority of Dubliners attended Sunday Mass. A 2011 poll showed a 
mere 14 per cent observed the Sabbath in the Dublin area. 
In 
the Ireland of Fr Doran’s youth, people were more likely to accept the 
authority of bishops. Fr Doran, who will be ordained a bishop on July 
13, will exercise his ministry in a Church in which bishops have to earn
 respect and trust, and in a society in which, for many, his ministry 
will not be regarded as particularly relevant. Pope Francis has 
appointed him to the rural Diocese of Elphin, which has 37 parishes, 90 
churches and a population of 70,000. 
Fr Doran was raised in 
the seaside area of Dún Laoghaire. The eldest child of middle-class 
Dubliners Joseph and Marie Doran, he has two younger sisters. 
His father was a maths teacher, but also prepared young children for First Holy Communion. He must have done a decent job, because Fr Doran has received letters in recent weeks from past pupils of his father, praising his dedication and his care.
His father was a maths teacher, but also prepared young children for First Holy Communion. He must have done a decent job, because Fr Doran has received letters in recent weeks from past pupils of his father, praising his dedication and his care.
But while his parents were devout, Fr
 Doran says, “they didn’t push us, they led us by their own example. 
They showed the importance of service, hard work and care of others.”
They were expected to go to Sunday Mass and every so often said a family rosary. His family nudged them in the direction of doing more than their obligations. He recalls: “During the summer holidays, when we were sleeping in, my dad would walk up and down outside our rooms, asking us if we would not think of going to morning Mass, instead of staying in bed. But it was left up to us. No one forced us.”
Fr Doran’s 
family is dotted with relatives who were priests and nuns. There is a 
London link in that his uncle, Fr Hilary Doran, was the prior of the 
Kensington Carmel on Notting Hill during the Blitz and had to brush 
incendiary devices off the priory roof in wartime. 
Years 
later Fr Doran was at his uncle’s side when he was dying. He says: “He 
never lost the original purpose of his vocation. He grew into it more 
and more. That’s something so important for us to learn. A vocation is 
not something that happens in an instant – a spark that lasts a minute 
or a day – but is a lifelong relationship.” 
Fr Doran was 
inspired to become a priest in part by the example of a teacher who was a
 religious Brother. Brother Finbarr, a chemistry teacher, was 25 years 
older, but it was his simple faith, his way of living out the Gospel by 
his life of generous service that inspired the young Kevin to become a 
priest. 
When he told his parents, at the age of 17, that he 
wanted to enter seminary they were a bit wary. At that time in 1970s, 
when priests were still held in high esteem by Irish society, it would 
have been easy for his parents to keep their qualms to themselves. But 
they reminded their son of his young age and asked him if he was sure 
that he didn’t want to do a degree first. 
Fr Doran explains why they 
were hesitant. “My father had been a novice in De la Salle Brothers for a
 number of years. My parents understood the challenge and thought that 
it might be better to wait until I had more life experience.” But once 
he decided to persevere with a priestly vocation they gave their 
wholehearted support. 
He entered seminary after finishing 
secondary school. It turned out that shortly after he was ordained a 
priest his mentor, Brother Finbarr, entered the seminary.  
|  | 
| Fr Kevin Doran, Archbishop Martin and Pope Benedict | 
Fr 
Doran has now served for 37 years as a priest. He has spent the past 18 
months in Donnybrook, Dublin 4, one of the most affluent parts of 
Ireland. His appointment to the Diocese of Elphin will be a dramatic 
change, from the quarters of well-heeled Dubliners to the rustic 
confines of the counties of Roscommon, Sligo, Westmeath and Galway. When
 I mention this, he is completely undaunted. "Sure, I’ll miss Dublin 
because most of my friends and family are in Dublin. But in Elphin, I’m 
going to have a lot of new friends and responsibilities. I’ve always 
felt that wherever the Church asks me to go, the spirit was guiding it.”
  
I’m impressed by his willingness to venture into the depths
 of the Irish countryside, but he did after all spend four years as 
parish priest in Glendalough, one of the most rural parts of Dublin 
diocese. “That’s my street cred for a rural diocese,” he jokes.
When
 I ask about his new responsibilities he explains that, in addition to 
his own diocese, each bishop is assigned one or more portfolios for 
which he has a particular responsibility at national level. “I won’t 
know what they are until after I’m ordained in July,” he says. 
He
 seems remarkably down to earth about his new appointment, reflecting 
the type of shepherd that Francis expects. The Pope has underlined that 
becoming a member of the hierarchy is not a promotion, and Fr Doran 
echoes this, saying: “Vocation is not about achievement or personal 
advancement.” 
He seems to have a very steady character, so 
quietly certain of his own vocation, and I ask him if he ever has drops 
in his faith. “There’s times, like most people, that I get up in the 
morning and ask myself: ‘What’s the point?’ If I wake up and think to 
myself, ‘Oh no, I wish I didn’t have to get up for the 7.30 Mass’, that 
doesn’t mean I don’t want to be a priest anymore, but it may mean  that I
 should have gone to bed earlier. We can’t let our lives be ruled by 
transient feelings like that.” 
Have there been any 
experiences that have strengthened his vocation? “I had been a priest 
for many years,” he says, “before I realised that God loved me as I was.
 I didn’t have to prove myself worthy in order for God to love me. God’s
 love is never taken back. We can become what God wants us to be because
 of His love.”
One of the tenets of his priestly life so far 
has been a tireless dedication to marriage preparation. He thinks his 
awareness of the love of God has made him better able to help couples. 
“I try to get couples to take on-board that their love for each other 
comes from God,” he says. “I love working with couples who are preparing
 for marriage. There’s so much joy, and hope. I like to remind them that
 is they who will make the love of God real for their children.”
While
 insisting that “an essential element of the mission of the Church is to
 reach out to people who do not share our faith”, he says: “It is 
equally important is to nourish ourselves with relationships with people
 who do share our faith… St Paul warns against harnessing ourselves in 
an uneven team with unbelievers. This is the metaphors of horses pulling
 a plough in different directions, leading only to chaos.” 
But
 is the Church doing enough for young singletons? He points out that the
 Church does have organisations such as Youth 2000 which run prayer 
groups and festivals where young Catholics can meet a huge variety of 
other Catholics. There are the World Youth Days, too. But he concedes 
that young Catholics in Ireland feel they are in a minority. This is a 
sharp swing from the Ireland of Fr Doran’s youth, when practising 
Catholics were the mainstream. 
What does he think is the inhibitor, 
stopping this generation of Irish people from practising the faith as a 
normal way of life? “In my generation people reacted against a situation
 in which priests and nuns were authority figures in school, who were 
sometimes perceived to exert too much control,” he says. 
I
 mention that most young people, my age, did not know priests or nuns as
 schoolteachers. “They may have inherited baggage from their parents,” 
he suggests.
“More importantly, however, our culture is far 
more materialistic than it was and an excessive focus on what we have 
and what we want inevitably conflicts with a lived faith. Parents of 
faith experience themselves as ‘battling against the tide’  Many just 
don’t bother any more. From an early age, a disproportionate emphasis is
 placed on the material and social success of children at the expense of
 their spiritual growth. 
We, as the Church, need to support parents, but they also need to support one another. There are some great examples of generous commitment in our parishes; young parents running family friendly liturgies.”
We, as the Church, need to support parents, but they also need to support one another. There are some great examples of generous commitment in our parishes; young parents running family friendly liturgies.”
Fr Doran pauses and concedes: "But somehow it doesn’t carry over into the teen years. That’s a challenge for us all."
This interview originally appeared in the print edition of THE CATHOLIC HERALD.
This interview originally appeared in the print edition of THE CATHOLIC HERALD.




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