The north and south walls have all but gone, the west wall is featureless and smothered in ivy, and the interior, measuring seventeen metres east to west and seven metres north to south, is so crowded with burials, some of them recent, that earlier features have been buried out of sight. Yet the east wall still holds something worth pausing over: a narrow central window opening whose light is missing, but whose rounded arch on the inside of the embrasure is framed by cut-stone voussoirs, the wedge-shaped blocks that distribute the load around an arch. It is a small detail, but it is precise enough to suggest the hand of someone who knew what they were doing.

The church served the parish of Currykippane, and was still recorded as being in repair as late as 1639, a date noted by Brady in his 1863 survey of Irish ecclesiastical records. By 1693, however, Brunicardi found it abandoned, a decline that took place across a period when religious upheaval and shifting patterns of settlement reshaped parish life across Munster. Writing in 1913, Brunicardi also recorded a wall press and a piscina in the south-east corner. A piscina is a shallow stone basin, typically set into a wall niche, used for rinsing liturgical vessels during Mass; its presence confirms this was a functioning Catholic place of worship before the Reformation-era disruptions. Both features are now obscured beneath the accumulation of burials, so Brunicardi's early twentieth-century account preserves details that the ground itself has since swallowed.