Further evidence of Sinn Féin's peace strategy emerged when the ardfheis passed a motion congratulating the Irish cricket team on reaching the world cup.
The vote was close. A show of hands proved inconclusive and the decision had to be referred to the third umpire. But the motion's eventual passage was another small signal from the provisional movement that its war is, as they say in cricket every six balls, "over".
Critics may see in this a sign that the movement is getting too comfortable in Dublin 4. Yet you can see the appeal of cricket - a game that requires endless patience - for contemporary Sinn Féin.
The party celebrated its maiden century last year and not much has changed since.
The wicket is still sticky and the outfield is slow, but the Shinners have persevered and, with the speed of a Geoffrey Boycott, have now moved onto 101 not out (except still of the Executive).
One of the disadvantages of the RDS, even for cricket-loving republicans, is that it hosts different events simultaneously, which can be confusing.
Delegates who entered the wrong hall at the weekend - and many did - found themselves at the annual conference of the Divine Word Missions. They might not have immediately recognised their mistake, either.
The DWM event was replete with posters and banners that wouldn't have been out of place next door. "Rise up," urged a slogan on a stall selling the Sacred Heart Messenger. "Can you handle the truth?" asked the Legion of Mary stand.
Another banner proclaimed the revolutionary message: "He has put down the mighty from their thrones and raised up the lowly (Luke 1:52)."
By an uncanny coincidence, back at the ardfheis, Gerry Adams was also quoting Luke (Kelly, of the Dubliners) on the betrayal of Ireland's martyrs: "For what died the sons of Róisín - was it greed?"
Perhaps the sight at the DWM event of people doing stations of the cross might first have alerted a Sinn Féiner that he was in the wrong place. But probably the key difference was the air of penitence. It's the thing that separates the sinner and the Shinner, generally: only one of them does confession.
The ardfheis had its stations too: an exhibition on the hunger strikers past which the devout filed respectfully.
The keynote of Adams's speech linked the imminent 25th anniversary of the strikes with the 90th anniversary of 1916, while rejecting claims that SF had "hijacked" the Rising.
Symbolically at the first post- decommissioning ardfheis, his address was followed by a song. Velvet- voiced Francie Brolly performed a republican ballad, while the platform swayed along with him, like hippies at a Joan Baez concert.
Henceforth, republicans will take power with a ballot box in one hand and a guitar in the other.
Never a party to miss a trick, Sinn Féin gave the job of chairing the televised address to poster-girl Toiréasa Ferris, whose recent Late Late Show appearance had exposed her (in more ways than one) to overnight celebrity. Filling time while awaiting the green light from RTÉ, she regretted she couldn't sing and joked: "If I had my short skirt on, I might."
The jeans she was wearing for the ardfheis were a blatant cover-up, but just for once, Sinn Féin was not demanding a public inquiry.