Tim Farley is well-liked. He has friends, a comfortable job that is not too taxing, and a secure future. He's also a Catholic priest who drives an expensive car, likes fine wine, and who has reached a level of "Beloved" in his parish.

Enter Mark Dolson, a fervent young seminarian ready to challenge Father Farley's drinking, his "song-and-dance theology," and his "keep it simple, stupid" approach to counseling.

"Why don't you talk to people?" demands the young man.

"I like being liked," explains Father Farley. "That and wine give me the only warmth I get."

The new production of "Mass Appeal" by The Actors' Group follows right on the heels of another examination of the Catholic Church, "Doubt," which continues to play at Manoa Valley Theatre.

"Doubt" is a recent play whose 1960s setting examines the seeds of that decade's religious and social turbulence. By contrast, "Mass Appeal" made its Broadway debut in 1982 and, 25 years later, lacks immediacy.

Both the priest's pandering to his well-heeled congregation and the student's narrow iconoclasm seem curiously quaint in today's world. These are no longer front-burner issues for today's church or front-page headlines.

Even the underlying questions of sexuality and homophobia are no longer new or startling.

Nevertheless, "Mass Appeal" is well-staged and performed. Brad Powell's direction keeps the action tight and moving and open to humor. An attendant in religious robes delivers the opening announcements and another takes up a collection at intermission. The tiny set is serviceable, and the musical soundtrack is interesting.

But there is no instinctive empathy with the characters on a personal level.

Ingratiatingly played by Gary Morris, Farley would be an easy first choice for a pal at cards or a sports game, or to fill that single seat at a dinner party. He's witty, self-deprecating and never steps on toes. He might be OK as a listener to a personal problem, but only because he'd never pry or scold.

Dolson, played by Blaze Mancillas, is a mixture of innocence and righteous anger as the seminarian. But despite a three-year experiment with his own sexuality, he seems to have learned very little about other people. He naively fails to understand why his sermon about accidentally killing his tropical fish doesn't succeed, or why simply wanting something very badly doesn't make it happen.

We reach the end of the play believing that Father Farley may be best suited as the genial focal point for inoffensive people who like to congregate on Sundays and that Dolson may be better off as a rabble-rousing social worker. As a result, we are neither moved by the final confrontation nor personally invested in whether the priest loses his congregation or the student is expelled from the seminary.

Only the priest's closing lines expand the play by emphasizing the individual's obligation to participate in and question authority. "Our church (substitute here the institution of your choice) must be allowed to shape that thing that shapes us."

In an election year, with campaign rhetoric shifting and drifting like banks of driving snow, that's a good thing to remember.

Joseph T. Rozmiarek has reviewed theater performances in Hawai'i since 1973.