Parishoners angry at plans to sell off churches throughout Boston are occupying some of them in defiance of the archdiocese's order to close them, reports Anna Mundow.

At St Albert the Great church in Weymouth, a Boston suburb, parishioners are planning their Thanksgiving celebrations. There will be the traditional altar decorations. There will be music, prayer services, lots of pumpkin pie. The only things missing will be the priest and the Mass. But this is still their church, the faithful insist. These days, after all, most of them live there.

For almost two months - ever since they defied the Boston archdiocese's order to close in September - members of this congregation have occupied St Albert's 24 hours a day, taking turns sleeping in the sacristy and sparking a local revolution with worldwide implications.

"The Archdiocese of Boston is undergoing a radical change called reconfiguration," the St Albert website observes, "and the results of this process will be used to 'consolidate' parishes the world over."

So far, however, those results have been deeply subversive. The standoff at St Albert's and subsequent protests by almost a dozen other condemned parishes have forced the Boston archdiocese not only to postpone many closures but also to answer a fundamental question: whose church is it anyway?

Parishioners are not the only ones asking that. Incensed by what he called the lack of public disclosure by the Boston archdiocese, the Massachusetts secretary of state, William F. Galvin, recently filed legislation that would require religious organisations to report details of large financial transactions to the state.

"I don't do this lightly," Galvin told the Boston Globe, "I know it will be considered treading on the separation of church and state, but it's absolutely not that. It is an attempt to force some transparency on an institution that is making decisions on millions of dollars of property that affect thousands of people throughout Greater Boston."

Galvin's demand constitutes a rare rift between clergy and politics, the twin bastions of Irish-America, and his anger echoes that of many ordinary Catholics confronting what they perceive to be Church arrogance, whether in matters of real estate or sexual abuse scandals.

The current row began in May when Archbishop Sean P. O'Malley announced that 83 of Boston's 357 parishes would be closed by January. Located in 38 Greater Boston communities, ranging from upscale Newton to blue-collar Everett, each relevant cluster of churches was ordered to vote one of its neighbours out of existence. There were problems from the outset.

In Weymouth, for example, when parishioners repeatedly refused to vote, insisting all five churches were viable, a conservative priest demanded the secret ballot that resulted in St Albert's closure.

St Albert's was a small, relatively thriving parish with 1,500 regular attendees and no debt. Few deny, however, that it is an exception. More typical is St Clare's in neighbouring Braintree, where there are usually 400 empty seats at each weekend Mass. Yet St Clare's will remain open, perhaps because it can absorb refugees from nearby condemned churches.

Citing declining Mass attendance, dwindling parish revenue and a shortage of priests as prime reasons for the parish reconfiguration, Bishop O'Malley has also acknowledged these problems were exacerbated by the sexual abuse scandals that resulted in Cardinal Law's 2002 resignation and the $90 million settlement of more than 500 lawsuits. The archdiocese's central fund showed a $14 million loss last year and the closed parishes could sell for more than $400 million.

While the sexual abuse scandals wounded the Boston archdiocese, they emboldened the city's laity, most notably those who founded Voice of the Faithful in 2002 with the aim of providing "a prayerful voice through which the Faithful can actively participate in the government and guidance of the Catholic Church". VOTF now has 30,000 members worldwide, and with its demand for an end to "pay, pray and obey" Catholicism and its call to "keep the faith, change the church," the movement not only inspired the parishioners who began the church occupations, it also showed them how to build a grassroots organisation.

As sit-ins multiply, that organisation has gained numbers and confidence. With 10 Boston churches currently occupied around the clock and four more expected to follow suit by December, a council of 13 parishes has been formed to support and co-ordinate vigils and to advise occupiers on everything from food storage to public safety.

"A month after St Albert's was officially closed," the Boston Globe reported on September 29th, "there are fresh flowers on the altar, money in the bank, a kitchen full of food and a church full of people. Floors are scrubbed clean, bushes clipped, utility bills paid. The Voice of the Faithful chapter continues its sessions in the parish hall." The response of the archdiocese has been cautious.

Bishop O'Malley is not Cardinal Law, after all. His administrative style is conciliatory, not autocratic.

In October, O'Malley appointed a board of prominent Catholic businessmen and civic leaders to review the proposed parish closures and to conduct a case-by-case re-examination.

"The archdiocese will continue to reach out to all Catholics," Ann Carter, an archdiocesan spokeswoman recently announced, "including those who disagree with particular church closings." A November 4th editorial in the Pilot, the archdiocese's official newspaper, was less sensitive, however, warning that "no one should expect that church occupations are going to change the archbishop's decisions".

Father Mark O'Connell, a legal expert for the archdiocese, has also pointed out that "the archbishop has a right to suppress, alter or merge a parish in Canon Law as long as he follows process".

So far, 49 Boston parishes have been closed or subsumed into neighbouring churches with little fuss but many tears. People joining the church occupation movement, however, are increasingly fuelled by suspicion as well as emotion.

When St Bernard's in Newton was ordered to close by the end of October, many in the congregation suggested that their church was chosen because of its property value, which is assessed at $11 million, the highest of any parish in the diocese. A failed attempt by the archdiocese to avoid confrontation by allowing St Bernard's to hold one Mass on Saturdays and to remain open for three weekday mornings may have neutralised the charge that St Bernard's was being closed for profit, but it did not quell the anger behind that charge.

Of Newton's seven Catholic churches, St Bernard's is the third busiest for baptisms, weddings and funerals. It also has one of the highest attendance rates, which perhaps explains why almost 150 people have signed up for rotating shifts to occupy the building and how the Friends of St Bernard's have raised more than $30,000 so far to cover the costs of the vigil.

Protesters staging the latest sit-in - at the Infant Jesus-Saint Lawrence church in affluent Chestnut Hill - also believe that the closure is financially motivated. "The majority of us on the council feel strongly that the underlying reason that the archdiocese has acted on us is because of the wealth that this parish holds in its bank account," parish council member Carlos Ferre recently commented, ". . . and that the archdiocese stands to gain with the sale of its three acres in the heart of Chestnut Hill."

On November 7th, priests and parishioners leaving St Patrick's Cathedral in Manhattan after Mass were confronted with chants of "no more closings" from protesters across the street, while in Harlem parishioners began to hold weekly vigils outside a recently-closed church. Once again, a revolution begun in Boston appears to be spreading.