Yet there is a strong argument that, in the increasingly materialistic and consumerist society in which we live, there has never been a greater need for the spiritual balance that a properly functional church can bring. If the Catholic church, as it struggles to adjust to its new role, is looking for an inspirational figure who can serve as an example of what organised religion can still achieve, it should look no further than Fr Denis Faul, who passed away last week.

The man was simply a colossus. His courage and unshakeable independence, regardless of the personal cost, were an example to everyone. To this observer at least, Faul didn't just preach the word of Jesus Christ, he acted as Christ would have done. He talked the talk and walked the walk.

In doing so, he made many enemies but he was ready and willing to carry that burden. When it came to the IRA, in particular, Faul was fearless. He regularly condemned IRA murders, but it was his role in bringing an end to the 1981 hunger strikes that saw him vilified by republicans.

Faul persuaded some of the families to instruct doctors to resuscitate and medically feed their loved ones as soon as they slipped into unconsciousness.

A quarter of a century on, his only regret was that he didn't intervene earlier. He agreed with the account of former IRA prisoner Richard O'Rawe . . . fiercely disputed by the leadership of the republican movement . . . that a decision by the prisoners' leadership to accept a deal in early July 1981 to end the hunger strike was overruled by the IRA army council. The implication was that the fast was prolonged to ensure the successful election of Owen Carron to Westminster . . . for many the beginning of the Provisionals' shift to democratic politics. "I'm only sorry I did not intervene earlier; more lives could have been saved.

Four men died for an election. It was a very dear price, " Faul recalled in a wonderful final interview with The Irish Times earlier this year.

True to form, in that interview, he wanted to focus on two issues: getting the thousands "banished" from the North by paramilitaries safely returned and the corruption of society by paramilitaries.

Republican and loyalist paramilitary criminality must be resisted, he said. "It's the law of omerta, " he said with typical frankness. "You can't speak, you can't go to the police, you can't go to the courts, you can't go to the press. It's barbarous. There is a law, but it's the law of force."

Anybody who grew up in the North or in border counties knows how difficult and intimidating it was to stand up to the republican movement. But Faul did so regularly and boldly. He may have been despised by many republicans, but they could never undermine his credibility.

That was because Faul was entirely consistent in pointing out wrongdoing and injustice . . . there was no equivocation. He marched with the civil rights movement in 1968; he protested against human rights abuses by the British army and RUC; he condemned both republican and loyalist violence; he campaigned for the Birmingham Six, the Guildford Four and others when few others were doing so. And he worked quietly on behalf of the 'on-theruns'.

Faul had no interest in courting popularity. His conservative views on issues such as abortion, divorce and contraception would have alienated many in the south who admired his stance on the North, but he wasn't interested in being political. He also commented . . . only half jokingly . . . of the Catholic system: "People accuse us of being in the business of brainwashing children. Well, I make no bones about it . . . we are."

Many people will recoil in horror at such sentiments, but it is impossible not to respect the man for his honesty and courage. And that surely must be a signpost on the road to redemption for the Catholic church in Ireland. There must surely be a role for a church that is unflinching in taking a stand on social justice and representing the marginalised and the oppressed. The respect in which Faul was held, even among those who disagreed with his views, is testimony to that.

For his stands, Fr Denis Faul was variously labelled a "provo priest" and a "treacherous, conniving man" working in the interests of Britain. But as a true follower of Jesus, Faul was working to only one agenda . . . that of God. His utter faith and the consistency of his struggle for justice in all forms and against all comers made him literally 'untouchable'. A true priest. A true man. An example to his church. An example to us all. Ar dheis De go raibh a anam.