So far, people have - if reluctantly - adapted to a new normal.
We're now just over two weeks away from the next huge milestone on the Government's roadmap back.
On June 29, travel restrictions will be removed, restaurants and pubs that serve food will re-open and - crucially for the almost two million people on this island who attend Mass every week - religious services will resume.
When you look at the numbers, the death of religion in Ireland has been greatly exaggerated. If you were to take the number of people who tell pollsters they attend Mass at least once a week (29pc) you'd fill Croke Park 23 times over. For those who don't have the good fortune of seeing their county regularly in GAA headquarters, think of the national ploughing championship times six - every single Sunday morning.
While many Catholics no longer follow the Church's teaching on a wide variety of issues, weekly attendance has remained remarkably robust. Even allowing for a few guilt-laden people lying in the polls, Sunday morning remains a vital part of the week for many Irish people.
By the time Masses get up and running again, it'll be 16 weeks since most parishes have had public ceremonies. How will attendance be affected by the lockdown?
Well, some older people - a large portion of a lot of congregations - will likely be cautious and are unlikely to return immediately. Others with underlying health conditions will be understandably wary about gathering together for Mass.
Of course, the return to Mass will be welcome for people of faith. But it will not be Mass as we know it. It's probably no exaggeration to say that our post-lockdown liturgies will be the biggest change parishioners will have noticed since the reforms of Vatican II in the 1960s gave us the Mass in English, and the priest no longer faced east with the people as the altars were turned around to face the congregation.
It will be a Herculean task to get ready and manage the re-opening. Already we're seeing green shoots of how it will take shape. Social media is awash with pictures from local GAA clubs sanitising churches and helping priests put down markings to ensure a one-way system in the building to avoid close contact. Parish councils are drawing up rotas and it is clear people know these restrictions are not just for a day or two.
All will change. It will not be the breeze-in, breeze-out atmosphere we've gotten used to on a Sunday morning. Physical distancing is here to stay and the suggestion is that churches will be able to work at one-third of their normal capacity. Some parishes are working on reservation systems and the plan is that people will be allocated a particular day and time to attend Mass, depending on where they live in the parish. Volunteers will bring communion to those who are continuing to cocoon and participating from home via the webcam.
For those attending Mass, they will have to sit two metres apart and there will be no singing or exchanging the sign of peace.
When it comes to communion time, the priest will wear a face-covering and distribute the consecrated hosts from a small opening on a Perspex screen. People will not be able to gather outside afterwards, and the building will need a thorough cleaning after every ceremony.
It's daunting for a lot of priests and parishes where many of the current volunteers may be over the age of 70 and therefore in the vulnerable age category.
But if this pandemic has taught us one thing it is that the community spirit remains strong in Ireland - particularly rural Ireland, where Mass attendance figures are much higher than in the cities and larger towns.
How parishes respond will be a real litmus test of the life of that parish. Some will re-open with gusto with plenty of lay volunteers to co-ordinate a safe return. Others, where the involvement of laypeople in running the parish has never been taken seriously, will struggle.
The apprehension about public Masses voiced by the Association of Catholic Priests (ACP) is largely a feature of the fact that this particular pressure group is made up mostly of elderly and retired priests. Some of these clerics have undoubtedly taken to cocooning quite well and may well see it as a moment for early retirement.
The Catholic faith in Ireland can come out of this pandemic stronger - if leaner - and more fit for mission if there is real creativity and an appetite to imagine a different way of being the Church.
When the institutional Church here was mired in scandals of its own making and seemingly impotent to reform, it was laypeople who took up the torch around child protection. In every parish in the country, there are now lay volunteers who take responsibility for child safeguarding. It has resulted in a situation where the Church is now acknowledged to operate the gold standard when it comes to protecting young people and vulnerable adults.
God knows it was hard won.
This is another moment when laypeople must step up to take up co-responsibility for their local parish. Priests cannot be expected to do this alone, and shouldn't be afraid to ask for help.
If every crisis is also a moment of opportunity, then coronavirus can be a moment for the Church to put flesh on the bones of the idea of a community where laypeople take a driving seat rather than meekly relying on the priest to lead everything.
It's paradoxical, but this virus might leave us with a better Church than when we started.