Our society urgently needs an effective way to cope with the distress being caused by the present economic disaster.

This suffering obviously includes worry over debts, employment and home security.

It also includes health and education issues, emigration, disruption of family life, collapse of hope, shame, loss of a sense of purpose in life, and so on.

As the Government slashes services and raises taxes it can only tell us to grin and bear it, that EU bosses think we’re great, exports are steady and the economy will soon be fine.

Economist Richard Tol, however, on his way out of the country, warned that Irish people face another 10 years of austerity budgets.

During the boom years we came to believe that the good times were here forever. Young people, especially, were led to believe that life was about progress, it only moved towards more comfort, convenience, choice, opportunity.

Certainly some people had to suffer - sickness, job loss or whatever. But they were unlucky. For the rest of us, life was on the up. You just had to nurture your self-esteem and stay on the escalator.

Now, however, we need a new vision: protecting ourselves and our families is a priority; we must manage with much less than we thought possible.

Above all, we need to revisit our view of the purpose of life. Each one of us is made for eternal happiness with God, in Christ. And while we can toss that away ourselves, no one can take it from us.

Making God the explicit and central concern of our personal and family lives is the fundamental shift of outlook we need today. Nothing can take its place.

This also enables us to make sense of inevitable suffering. “Offer it up” is not a joke, it is a profound Christian truth that we need to recover and proclaim.

Our suffering allows us to share in Christ’s work of salvation. It benefits others whom we may never even meet. Knowing this gives it meaning and value, and gives us the courage to accept it.

Olivia O’Leary’s recent account on RTE radio as to why she had left the Catholic Church did not impress journalist Mary Kenny.

It reminded her of a spoilt child stamping her little foot at a party because she wasn’t allowed to sing. “I listened to Olivia,” wrote Mary, “and I thought, ‘grow up sister’.”

The sisters can continue that discussion themselves, but Olivia’s list of what she would miss, having left the Church, was striking.

There were some childhood memories, and her relatives in religious life; above all, “the liturgy which is one of the world’s great art forms and brings such comfort at times of loss and of pain. The music and the theatre of it all!”

The mention here of “great art forms” and “the theatre of it all” gives an air of charming sophistication to the remark.

But really it is as ditzy as the complaint of a petulant teenager that “Mass is boring”. Both Olivia and the teenager are looking for entertainment. The focus is on themselves, their own enjoyment.

This, certainly, was not what Irish Catholics were looking for in Penal Times as they made their way furtively yet eagerly to the local Mass rock.

For them, Mass was primarily about God, about recognising his holiness, adoring his majesty, giving him the worship and thanks that were his due.

Here was the fundamental act of justice, the essential foundation of all other forms of justice. It was a participation in the eternal sacrifice of Christ.

Nothing in the whole world could compare with such a privilege. It was worth the effort and the immense risk simply because it was Mass.

The numbers taking part in Sunday Mass today have fallen greatly. That should not surprise us if people, in their cool or their crude way, are only seeking entertainment.

Or if the liturgy is being used to pander to this desire.

Only if we redirect our minds and desires to the reverent worship of God can we hope for change.

Some journalists at England’s leftwing Guardian were upset when David Cameron claimed that “Britain is a Christian country” and encouraged people not to be afraid to say so.

But perhaps it is Christians who should be more alarmed by the speech, and by the prime minister’s very defective understanding of what Christianity is.

It’s worth looking more closely at his views if only because some people in Ireland, including some Catholics, share them.

Attention to God and the central place of worship didn’t figure anywhere in his vision, not to mention the cross, nor faith in the risen Christ nor the hope of eternal life.

If these are left out, it’s hard to imagine what remains of the Christian religion.

Rather, he reduced the faith to providing “a set of values and morals which make Britain what it is today.” At its best, then, Christianity becomes a bland moralism with no backbone.

Cameron added: “Put simply, for too long we have been unwilling to distinguish right from wrong.” As an ethical statement it sounds impressive, a bit like walking on water.

But the moment people today ask ‘what is right?’, ‘what is wrong?’, they start to sink into confusion, discord, conflict, hostility, relativism and social chaos.

Cameron himself rejects Christian teaching on sexuality, being a strong supporter of the morally daft notion of “same sex marriage”. And he fiercely opposes any attempt to protect unborn children from the evil of abortion.

Rightly does he say that “‘Live and let live’ has too often become ‘do what you please’.” It’s evident not least in his own silly tributes to “tolerance” and “equality”.

He describes himself as “a committed but vaguely practising Church of England Christian.” This may make sense in the C of E, but elsewhere it is as meaningful as the idea of a caring suicide bomber.

Certainly we need a return to Christian morality, but that will not come without a renewed love for Christ and the Church he founded.