Inscribed plaques on the northwest gable record two distinct moments in the building's life: its construction in 1828 and a restoration carried out in 1952, more than a century later. That kind of built-in chronology, stone advertising its own biography, is not something you encounter on every rural church facade.

The building itself is rectangular, oriented roughly northwest to southeast, and put together from random-rubble sandstone, a common enough construction method in rural Ireland that uses unshaped or loosely shaped stones laid without a regular course. The finer details, however, are rendered in ashlar limestone, stone that has been precisely cut and dressed to give clean edges and smooth faces. The contrast between the two materials is quietly telling, the rough local sandstone doing the structural work, the dressed limestone reserved for the moments that call for precision. Ten round-headed windows, five along each side wall, light the interior, and a matching window sits in the northwest gable above the main entrance, which is a round-headed door opening on the northeast elevation. A sacristy is attached to the southwest gable, the altar sits at the southeast end, and a gallery occupies the northwest end, a layout that places the congregation between the two, with the organ or choir above and the liturgy below.

The 1828 date places the church firmly in the period just before Catholic Emancipation, when Catholics in Ireland were still legally restricted in various ways and church-building was a charged act as much as a practical one. That it was still in active enough use to warrant formal restoration in 1952 speaks to a continuity that the plainness of the building perhaps understates.