What makes the site quietly puzzling is not so much what remains as what cannot be determined: the low limestone walls standing here today may or may not have anything to do with the medieval church that earlier maps confidently marked on this spot. Generations of cartographers recorded a church; what survives is a structure whose origins remain genuinely uncertain.

When an observer visited in 1980, the building was barely legible, reduced to fragments of rough coursed limestone almost entirely smothered in ivy and briars. The walls that remained suggested a small rectangular structure, with no dressed stone and no surviving architectural features. Crucially, the 1655 Down Survey map of Farbill Barony, one of the earliest systematic cartographic surveys of Irish land following the Cromwellian redistribution, showed no church in this townland at all, which raises the possibility that the structure was never medieval in the first place. The thin walls, the absence of any diagnostic stonework, and the layout all point more readily to a post-medieval date. Around 2010, the walls were repointed and partially rebuilt, a concrete triangular-headed window was inserted into the west wall, and the building was given its current appearance. Whether this work consolidated earlier masonry or largely created a new structure around an older memory is not clear. Inside, a 19th-century memorial shares space with more recent concrete crosses, and the surrounding graveyard holds post-medieval monuments throughout. There are no earthworks or traces of an ecclesiastical enclosure in the fields beyond the graveyard boundary, which would typically be expected around a site of genuine early medieval significance.