In many ways, the last word on yesterday's events in Knock, where thousands of people showed up in search of a meet and greet with the Virgin Mary, could be found on the letters page of the Irish Times on Wednesday. Recalling that Archbishop Michael Neary of Tuam had suggested that the promised "apparitions" risked misleading "God's people and undermining faith", the letter writer, Liam Meehan from Killester in Dublin, said: "This is the same faith that believes a cosmic Jew who was his own father by a virgin can enable you to live forever if you symbolically eat his flesh, drink his blood and telepathically tell him you accept him as your master, so he can remove an evil force from something invisible called your soul that is present because a woman made from a rib was convinced by a talking snake to eat an apple from a magical tree."

Meehan's point is a good one. A church that asks its followers to believe in the mysterious and inexplicable can hardly complain when they start responding to the mysterious and inexplicable. But it is not the whole point. I would wager that many of the people who were in Knock yesterday haven't set foot in a church for years and were in Mayo for myriad reasons. Some were drawn out of curiosity, some because they couldn't get tickets to see Keith Barry, others because of a crackpot Catholicism which believes in dancing suns, peek-a-boo virgins and statues that cry like X Factor rejects.

But undoubtedly some were responding to a nagging feeling of pointlessness and hopelessness which is the inevitable background music in an economic downturn. The last time Ireland was prone to such nonsense was during the 1980s' recession when Ballinspittle became a temporary focus for mass hysteria. The recent events in Knock, and the palaver over the Rathkeale treestump during the summer, were not unexpected phenomena. In a recession, or other periods of uncertainty, people seek solace wherever they can get it.

"Lots of authorities in Ireland have been discredited – the clergy, politicians, economists," according to Eugene Hynes, the author of a book on the alleged appearance of Mary in Knock in the 1800s. "People," he said last week, "are hungry for a voice to make sense of things."

It is probably to the credit of the Catholic church hierarchy, like Michael Neary and Killaloe's Willie Walsh, who has also expressed concern about the apparitions, that they have not tried to blatantly exploit such feelings to boost attendance at masses. Others have not been so modest, unfortunately. The current tumult in Knock has been caused by a man from Ballyfermot in Dublin named Joe Coleman, who calls himself a visionary, and among whose odious claims is that he has photographs of the ghost of missing Offaly woman Fiona Sinnott. This blatant lie was torn apart last week in the Irish Daily Mail, which reported Fiona's mother as saying that the out-of-focus photo was actually of a relative. "I noticed the blouse in the picture belonged to my niece," she said. "He [Coleman] told me [the photographs] were Fiona's ghost but I just didn't believe in what he was trying to say."

Unfortunately, the gullible thousands who turned up in Knock yesterday are made of less stern stuff. They were there because Coleman claims to have regular conversations with the Virgin Mary, who promised him that she'd be putting in an appearance at 3pm.

"I've seen Our Lady a number of times this year in Knock," he said last week. She's very angry, apparently, "and will rock the foundations of the church if the people do not listen… and the gates of heaven will be closed".

It should go without saying that this is delusional twaddle. Coleman hasn't been in touch with the Virgin Mary recently, any more than I've been having secret conversations with Madonna. He is a spoofer, albeit one who appears to have convinced himself that the mother of God wants to be his Facebook friend.

He may therefore be more worthy of pity than scorn (as all those who hear voices in their heads deserve pity). But to take him seriously, as though he were the overseer of some kind of rational national response to the recession, is to give him more standing than any clairvoyant, anywhere in the world, deserves.

Fiona Sinnott's mother – a real, live credible Mary – had the correct response to Coleman's claims when interviewed last week. "He is talking rubbish," she said.

Bruton force: Honest John for EU president

Lest we forget, John Bruton was the last Taoiseach about whom there were no questions surrounding his competence (as there have been about Brian Cowen) or his honesty, as was the case with Bertie Ahern. He would, purely on his own merits, be a very good president for the European Council; the fact that appointment would scupper the candidacy of a gurning war criminal like Tony Blair would be a bonus. Cowen was far too quick to back Blair's candidacy. Now that he appears to be supporting Bruton, he should throw his full weight behind him.

ddoyle@tribune.ie