The east gable and the south wall still stand to nearly their full height, cloaked in ivy, their split-stone rubble construction held together with gravel mortar. The east gable is pierced by a tall, pointed single-light window, 2.3 metres high and set slightly off-centre, with splayed ingoings and the remnants of drawbar sockets, the slots that once held a wooden bar to secure a shutter across the opening. Along the south wall, two further windows survive, one round-headed with a stepped sill and its own pivot-hole and drawbar sockets, the other a narrow rectangular ope partly hidden by a tree trunk that has grown up against its base.

The church has a complicated afterlife on paper. A Royal Visitation of 1615 found the 'church of Cahir' already in a state of collapse, described tersely as 'all . . . up'. By 1633 it had been assigned a minister, one Thomas Harris, who served it alongside the parishes of Glanbehy and Killinane under the patronage of Edwardus Spring. A mid-eighteenth-century observer, Smith, noted it as the only church in repair in the entire barony of Iveragh, which either marks a brief recovery or a low point for the barony as a whole. By 1841 it was in ruins again. The name by which it is now generally known may derive from Tobernacrohaneeve, a holy well nearby, rather than from any older ecclesiastical title. The graveyard itself has been subject to its own reorganisation: grave-markers cleared from the south-west and north sectors now pave the ground on the south side of the medieval church, and the nineteenth-century slate markers have been lined up along the walls. Two sandstone slabs in the south-east corner of the ruin bear dates of 1682 and 1689. One tomb abutting the east gable is reputed to be the burial place of Daniel O'Connell's parents.

Built into the porch of an adjacent early nineteenth-century Protestant church are three carved stones that may originally have come from the medieval building. The most unusual is a heavily weathered sandstone carving of an open book, positioned above the apex of the doorway. Above it sits a fragment of a pointed doorhead with punch dressing, the repetitive chisel-mark finish common in later medieval Irish stonework, and a third punch-dressed stone serves as one of the doorway's jambs. The graveyard wall along its east side incorporates the rear walls of a row of disused houses, giving the whole enclosure an improvised, layered quality that feels less like a managed heritage site than a place that simply absorbed whatever was placed against it.