The things that get people hot under the collar never cease to amaze. A number of years ago, a friend of mine in Cork was getting married. She was born into the Protestant religion and, like most people, was fond of the idea of a church wedding. She approached the rector in what was nominally her parish. "Who are you?" he asked. He had never seen her before. She had never attended church services, certainly not since she was a child.

The rector was apologetic but firm. He couldn't in all conscience marry her. His position was entirely understandable and even admirable.

My friend, for the purposes of her marital plans, was born into the wrong religion in this country. Over the years, I have known, as I am sure most readers have, plenty of people who have had their marriage blessed in churches, yet have never darkened the door of a church since the big day out.

Preparation courses must be attended and all that, but these are often viewed as a price to be paid for use of the church's facilities to provide a ritual backdrop to the making of a union.

This liberal interpretation of who is suitable for church weddings within the religion is at odds with how the Catholic church regards intimate unions outside its religion.

Two weeks ago, the Irish Bishops Conference issued complaints about the Civil Partnership Bill, which provides for a civil union other than marriage. The major problem they had concerned the civil union of same sex couples.

The bishops wanted an opt-out clause for public servants who may have a "conscientious objection" based on "moral convictions" or "religious belief" to being involved in such a ceremony.

A failure to insert such a clause would be, they contended, the denial of a basic right.

This position was repeated by others, including those who ride shotgun for the church in the media. Conscience, in these quarters, is primarily concerned with sexual morality. A scenario was painted of a registrar who couldn't bring himself to officiate at a gay civil union being locked up for his religious beliefs. Despite being well spun, few of the public bought into this shambolic attempt to undermine the bill.

Conscientious objection, as a basic right, is a moveable feast for the bishops. What fate, for instance, would befall a primary school teacher applying for a job who expresses a conscientious objection to teaching religion? With the Catholic church controlling 92% of primary schools, he or she would have to rearrange their consciences fairly rapidly.

In any event, the bill passed all stages of the Dáil on Thursday evening. Justice minister Dermot Ahern described it as "one of the most important pieces of civil rights legislation to come before us since independence". No vote was required. There was unanimity in the House. The day is now past when civil rights were regarded as being subservient to sexual morality as perceived by the Catholic church. The unanimity also suggests that the vast majority of citizens, including those who make up the Catholic church, are in favour of the measure.

The opposition to the measure has crystallised the plight of one group who still labour under discrimination. Any gay or lesbian teacher who decides to avail of civil partnership may be putting their livelihood on the line. Section 37 of the Employment Equality Act permits a school "which promotes certain religious values to take action which is reasonably necessary to prevent an employee or a prospective employee from undermining the religious ethos of the institution".

The implications are obvious. If you don't conform to the church's view in an area like sexual morality, then you can be fired. The church has always been obsessed with sexual morality. Teachers seeking work only in schools with no religious ethos have limited employment prospects as four-fifths of the state's primary schools are under church patronage. Many within the church, from the hierarchy down, have expressed serious objections to the civil partnership legislation.

What now for the teacher who wants to regularise a same sex union, in order to avail of the basic protections and safeguards that are contained in the civil partnership bill? Would their careers be up for grabs if the local parish priest was as vehemently opposed to same sex unions as is the hierarchy?

So far, there has been a humane approach to Section 37. No openly gay or lesbian teachers have been dismissed, or even disciplined using the section. Members of the clergy on boards of management in these situations must harbour what might be described as a just mental reservation.

What is unclear is how many gay or lesbian teachers are afraid to come out as a result of a sword of Damocles hanging over their careers. The reality is that in a school system still dominated by the Catholic church, they do not enjoy the same basic freedoms as their colleagues.

Last Thursday was a significant day for civil rights. Addressing the Dáil, Ahern said the passage of the bill was "a clear and powerful statement that gay people will never again have their status or relationships ignored".

Not quite. Gay and lesbian teachers must still labour under a law in which their status and relationships continues to be ignored.

mclifford@tribune.ie