The quiet removal of Bishop Eamonn Casey’s remains from the crypt beneath Galway Cathedral has ignited both reflection and division across Ireland. The move, carried out discreetly in recent weeks and only confirmed in a statement from the Diocese of Galway, Kilmacduagh and Kilfenora last weekend, marks a historic and unprecedented decision in the Catholic Church in Ireland. It follows months of internal consultation and dialogue with the late bishop’s family and comes a year after explosive allegations of child sexual abuse were aired publicly in an RTÉ documentary.
His new resting place will remain a closely guarded secret at the request of his family, and prayers were offered over the remains during the removal ceremony held discreetly at the Cathedral crypt in the past two weeks.
Bishop Casey, once a prominent and charismatic figure in Irish Catholicism, served as Bishop of Galway from 1976 until his resignation in 1992. He died in 2017, and his burial in the crypt of the Cathedral of Our Lady Assumed into Heaven and St Nicholas was at the time attended by 1,600 mourners. The full extent of the controversies surrounding his life—most notoriously, his affair with American woman Annie Murphy, with whom he fathered a child—was already public. But the most serious revelations were still to come.
In July 2024, a year before his disinterment, RTÉ aired Bishop Casey’s Secrets, a documentary presented by journalist Anne Sheridan. The programme outlined four separate allegations of child sexual abuse made against Bishop Casey, including by his niece, Patricia Donovan. Donovan claimed she was groomed and raped by her uncle beginning at the age of five, a harrowing testimony that stunned viewers and reshaped public understanding of the former bishop’s legacy.
While Casey consistently denied the allegations and was never convicted of any crimes, it was revealed that the Vatican had removed him from public ministry in 2007 following an internal investigation. That sanction, however, was never disclosed during his lifetime. The burial of Casey in the cathedral crypt—a sacred space traditionally reserved for senior clergy—became a focal point for public discontent following the documentary’s release.
In the aftermath, Bishop of Galway Michael Duignan issued a carefully worded statement acknowledging the pain many felt regarding the bishop’s remains lying in such a revered place. “It is a very sensitive issue that deeply affects people in different ways,” he said last year. “Time and space” were requested to allow for thoughtful and respectful dialogue. That year-long process has now culminated in the removal of Bishop Casey’s remains.
In a new statement issued this past weekend, the Diocese thanked the public for their “understanding, patience and respect” during the process. It said “significant consensus” had emerged that a cathedral must be a “place of unity rather than division, healing rather than hurt and peace rather than disquiet.”
The Diocese confirmed that the removal had taken place “with the assent and cooperation” of members of Casey’s family, who have requested privacy. It added that prayers for the dead had been offered before the disinterment, and that the remains are now “entrusted to their care.” It is the family’s express wish that the location of Bishop Casey’s new resting place remain private.
The decision marks the first known removal of a senior Catholic cleric’s remains from consecrated ground in Ireland due to posthumous allegations of sexual abuse. While many see it as a necessary step toward justice and accountability, others view it as a precedent.
Among the most vocal critics of Casey’s burial in the crypt was his niece, Patricia Donovan. In the RTÉ documentary, she expressed disbelief and outrage that the Church would honour her alleged abuser in such a way. “It felt like he was being venerated,” she said. “Like he still had power over us, even in death.”
Following the documentary’s release, Garda Commissioner Drew Harris ordered a review of the original Garda investigation into the abuse allegations. That review concluded earlier this year with no further investigative actions recommended.
A poll conducted by the Irish Daily Mail shortly after the documentary aired found that 60 per cent of people aged 55 and over supported the removal of Casey’s remains from the cathedral. The public discourse was further inflamed by emotional calls to RTÉ’s Liveline radio programme, where survivors and ordinary citizens voiced outrage and disbelief at the bishop’s continued interment in such hallowed ground.
The recent removal of the remains has been met with a mix of relief, sorrow, and anger.
Even within the Church, the event has prompted quiet introspection. Former Archbishop of Dublin, Diarmuid Martin, who did not attend Bishop Casey’s funeral in 2017, described the statement issued by the Galway Diocese as “thoughtful and sensible.” He acknowledged that the occasion was painful for both Casey’s family and the survivors of abuse.
Bishop Michael Duignan, who was born the year after Casey became Bishop of Kerry in 1969, has not spoken publicly since the statement was issued. But sources close to the diocese suggest that extensive consultation and spiritual discernment went into the decision.
The role of a cathedral in Catholic life—as a symbol of both ecclesiastical authority and unity—was central to the Diocese’s reasoning. Burial in a cathedral crypt is a rare honour, meant to reflect the deceased’s ongoing spiritual connection to the local church. In this case, that symbolism had become a source of division rather than solace.
For many observers, the removal is less about rewriting history and more about acknowledging evolving public values and the pain carried by survivors. Yet, it also signals a shift within the Catholic Church in Ireland—an institution still grappling with the long and painful legacy of abuse scandals.
Though the Church’s statement prayed that “God will continue to draw all those who have been affected by this matter into his healing love,” the full reckoning of Bishop Casey’s legacy remains unsettled. His life, once marked by influence and charisma, now stands as a complex symbol of betrayal, silence, and the long struggle for truth and healing.
As the dust settles on this extraordinary decision, one thing remains clear: the conversation surrounding Bishop Eamonn Casey—and what his burial, and now disinterment, represent—is far from over.
