There is no longer. No wall, no foundation course, no telltale earthwork remains to mark where it stood. The site is, in the most literal sense, a place that has ceased to exist, and yet it continues to be recorded, catalogued, and studied precisely because of what it once produced.

F.E. Ball noted the church's existence in 1906, drawing on earlier local knowledge, but by the time P.W. Joyce wrote about the area in 1912 he could already confirm that all physical traces had vanished. What survived the disappearance of the building itself was a single cross-slab, a flat stone carved with a cross, of the kind commonly associated with early medieval Irish ecclesiastical sites. These slabs were often used as grave markers or devotional objects, and they frequently represent the only durable evidence that a church community ever gathered in a particular place. This one, recorded under the reference DU025-066002, was removed from Kilmashogue and is now held in the chapel of the College of St. Columba, a Church of Ireland school located at Whitechurch in the Dublin foothills, not far from where the slab was originally found. The transfer was documented by ÓhÉailidhe and Prendergast, though the precise circumstances and date of the move are not recorded in the available notes.

For anyone curious enough to follow up, the cross-slab can be seen at the College of St. Columba near Whitechurch, where access to the chapel may be possible by arrangement with the college. The mountain itself is accessible via well-used trails from the car park off the Kilmashogue Lane, and the walk is a familiar one for south Dublin hillwalkers. There is nothing on the ground to indicate where the church once stood, which is, in its own way, the point. The slab in the chapel and the blank hillside together tell a fairly common story about how early ecclesiastical sites fare over centuries, leaving behind a single carved stone and a reference in a footnote.