Father Stephen McNally's parishioners are deserting him in droves. The pastor of the English-speaking Catholic parish in Bonn is losing his flock of ambassadors, diplomats and embassy staff as the gradual exodus from the sleepy Rhineside town to Berlin, the new capital of united Germany, gathers pace.
Even the quaint New England-style chapel from which the amiable Irish-American priest ministers is up for sale - part of the continuing move by its owner, the US State Department, to rid itself of properties in its housing compound, Plittersdorf, outside Bonn city.
The US embassy chaplain is hoping that the white wooden-steepled Stimson Memorial Chapel, which is used for both Protestant and Catholic services, will be preserved as a place of worship for English-speaking denominations in Bonn after all the diplomats leave next summer. And, if his bishop back home permits, he might even remain after the embassy has left, too.
A group of American and German residents have already formed a fund-raising association and hope to purchase and preserve the chapel as a "permanent historical monument" to friendship between the two states.
The congregation is also keen to explore other options for the building, which has been declared a historic site, such as its sale or donation to the German state or the city of Bonn.
"I'm personally saddened by the move to Berlin," says Father McNally, perched on a pew where the former US president, Mr Jimmy Carter, sat in 1978.
"I see this as a beautiful, almost Camelot life for people. It's a very safe city to raise children. The schools are great. There's plenty to do for kids and grown-ups. Berlin is much more a Washington or a London. It's a big, bustling city."
The gentrified air and distinct lack of bustle in this federal village are renowned. It is a ghetto of trench-coat clad civil servants who move in incestuously close circles of politicians and journalists.
Raymond Searson, the genial co-owner of Fiddlers Irish Pub in Endenich, a village three km west of Bonn, recounted to me one of the many jokes about the city's lack of vitality: "Larger than Chicago's cemetery, but quieter."
One of the most disconcerting aspects of Bonn for a visitor keen to get a taste of German politics is that, physically, there is no hub around which political life revolves in the city. Ministries are spread out like satellites along motorways. The chancellery and Bundestag are outside the original city, set well off the main road amidst tree-lined avenues overlooked by villas. Politicians and journalists have their offices in nearby anonymous tower blocks. The whole parliament quarter feels like a university campus during a holiday period instead of the power seat of a major European nation.
With a population of only about 310,000, it is easy to understand why diplomats and civil servants, especially those with children, view the city and its nearby compact spa-town, Bad Godesburg, as suburban paradise.
There is an efficient and clean metro and tram system and the lack of traffic means commuting time is kept to a minimum. The old city, much of it pedestrianised, is home to an attractive university, town hall and Gothic-style minster.
One Berlin-born civil servant who was looking forward to the move back to her home conceded that the "hassle" factor of life in the much more cosmopolitan old-new capital is what she is dreading most.
Some 22,000 federal employees, plus their families, will have moved to Berlin by next summer, according to Bonn city administration. About 7,000 others will in turn move to Bonn from Berlin or Frankfurt. Overall, the administration estimates that the net loss of federal government jobs will be a modest 14,000 to 15,000. When politicians, lobbyists, diplomats and journalist are added to the departure list, the exodus from Bonn comes to about 50,000.
Six out of the 16 government ministries will remain in Bonn, including defence, science, environment and agriculture. Bonn is also home to the headquarters of Deutsche Telekom and has attracted two small UN agencies from Geneva.
Dr Monika Horing from Bonn city's administration admits that to shift the seat of government after 50 years to the other side of the country doesn't make economic sense. But to sweeten the pill, the city has received a DM2.8 billion pay-out, funded by the federal and state governments, to attract new skilled jobs to the city.
Most of this sum is going to fund scientific research and education facilities to help turn the somnolent university city into an international telecommunications and science city as well as developing tourism and culture.
Dr Horing's enthusiasm seems to be catching. Berlin may be currently Europe's biggest building site, but the crane count in the soon-to-be-supplanted federal capital is also quite respectable. Bonn's business class seems to be confident that the city's lights won't go out in 1999.
Mr Searson is heartened by the amount of construction in the city. "You would feel that in a city that's going to change so much, people would be cautious, but in my own areas there's building going on, so somebody must know something we don't."
As for Father McNally, his New Year wish is for "a seamless transition" so that when the final removal lorry leaves Bonn for Berlin he won't even notice.
"It will just be a new dawn, a new day and life goes on. It won't be a traumatic shock to the parish. We will see less people, we will see no diplomats, but we will see new families from the economic sector."