GREENFIELD -- The temperature is hovering just below zero as Bishop Thomas L. Dupre steps out of his car and into the back door of Blessed Sacrament Church, holding a folder with a homily connecting that day's Gospel reading to the debate over same-sex marriage.
Inside, the church in this Western Massachusetts community is packed with twice the usual crowd -- Holy Trinity's boiler had broken, so two of Greenfield's parishes are worshiping together -- and Dupre is delighted because, he says, he has a larger audience for his "very important message."
"The will of four judges may be imposed on 290 million people . . . mostly against their will in a matter of such grave importance as the redefinition of marriage," Dupre says, railing against last November's 4-3 Supreme Judicial Court decision that opened the door to same-sex marriage in Massachusetts. "The only chance left is a state constitutional amendment to define marriage as the union of one man and one woman. . . . If this vote fails, then say goodbye to the institution of marriage as we have always understood it."
The Catholic Church is entering its biggest political fight in several years: attempting to preserve the traditional definition of marriage. But the church arrives at this debate in a weakened position, reeling from the sexual abuse crisis that began in Boston two years ago, and with a new archbishop of Boston, Sean P. O'Malley, who does not have the familiar relationship with legislators enjoyed by his politically attuned predecessor, Cardinal Bernard F. Law. Even as the bishops intensify their efforts, the state's legislators, most of them Catholic, are openly questioning the church's clout.
"I don't think it's a secret -- they acknowledge themselves -- their voice, their moral authority has been compromised by the sexual abuse scandals, and they know it," House Speaker Thomas M. Finneran, a devout Catholic and an opponent of same-sex marriage, said in an interview. "How do you rally and restore the influence of the church at a time when it's probably at its lowest point with regard to public regard? . . . If the Catholic Church locally is to recover a lot of its strength in attendance and respect and the like, it might not be for a period of 50 years."
The bishops who lead four Roman Catholic dioceses that claim half the state's population, 3 million people, as members, concede that this is an unfortunate moment to be engaged in a divisive debate. But they say they have no choice but to defend traditional marriage, a sacrament of the church and, they argue, a building block of society. One of the bishops' lobbyists has already met with more than 100 lawmakers, some of the bishops are directly calling lawmakers, and all four are trying to foster a grass-roots campaign by urging lay Catholics to visit, call, and write to lawmakers.
"I'm certainly not enthused that we have to face a controversy like this at this moment," O'Malley, who has been trying to heal the divisions caused by the sexual abuse crisis since he was installed as archbishop last July 30, said at a news conference Friday. "Our obligation is to stand up for marriage, for families. I realize that this is a difficult time."
Massachusetts has become the epicenter of the national debate over same-sex marriage as a result of last fall's Supreme Judicial Court ruling which found that "barring an individual from the protections, benefits, and obligations of civil marriage solely because that person would marry a person of the same sex violates the Massachusetts Constitution."
But for the Catholic Church the issue is much broader than the Bay State and it goes back much further than last November.
Pope John Paul II, the spiritual leader for 1 billion Catholics worldwide, began speaking out against same-sex marriage in 1994, and has done so increasingly over the last year, as the Vatican has become alarmed by a growing openness to same-sex relationships in Europe and North America. Last June, the Vatican's doctrinal arm, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, declared "there are absolutely no grounds for considering homosexual unions to be in any way similar or even remotely analogous to God's plan for marriage and family."
And the Vatican has made clear its position that Catholic politicians are morally obligated to oppose same-sex marriage. "To vote in favor of a law so harmful to the common good is gravely immoral," the Vatican declared in June.
With such a strong message from the top, the state's bishops must fully engage in the debate over marriage, scholars say. The bishops are distributing 1 million brochures to Catholic households, encouraging attendance at "rallies for marriage" next Sunday, and sending packets to all priests with suggested prayers, bulletin inserts, and homily topics aimed at winning support for the constitutional amendment. The efforts are being organized by the Massachusetts Catholic Conference, which is financed by the four dioceses.
"They genuinely fear that this is a destructive movement for society, and that if they don't act they would be negligent," said Stephen J. Pope, an associate professor of theology at Boston College. "There is no doubt that marriage and family are not in a very strong position in our society right now, and the archbishop has said on numerous occasions that gay marriage or gay civil unions would contribute to the further erosion of the value of marriage as a social institution."
For much of the last century, the Catholic Church has enjoyed a privileged position on Beacon Hill thanks to its heavy presence in the state and its heavier presence in the Legislature. The church has also benefited from its hierarchical structure, which allows bishops to speak with authority, unlike many Protestant or Jewish leaders, who do not play the same role within their denominations.
A Globe survey of the current Legislature found that 67 percent of the 199 current lawmakers are Catholic -- a disproportionate share in a state where roughly 50 percent of the population is Catholic. (There is one vacancy in the Legislature.) Not only are the House speaker and the Senate president Catholic, but so are the vast majority of the House and Senate leaders and committee chairmen.
But the Catholic Church has a mixed record of accomplishment on Beacon Hill. Lawmakers and bishops agree that the church has been most successful advocating for the poor and staving off capital punishment in Massachusetts, but has been less successful, despite vigorous efforts, at influencing abortion policy.
"Clearly the dominant religious affiliation of legislators is with the Catholic Church, so it seems intuitive that the church's pronouncements would weigh more heavily than those of other religious organizations," said Thomas F. Birmingham, the former Senate president and also Catholic. "But not only are they not all marching in lockstep, the relationship of their positions to religious tradition is more subtle than command and obedience. It's a matter of one's core values, which are always informed by religious beliefs, but not by the command."
Law, who was archbishop of Boston from 1984 until his resignation in 2002, was one of the most important political players in the state, but not always successful. He frequently called or met with lawmakers -- Finneran said he would hear from Law about four times a year, while Birmingham said he got about six calls over a dozen years on issues ranging from affordable housing to the naming of the Leonard P. Zakim Bunker Hill Bridge. In 1999 Law even tried, but failed, to prevent the elevation of Margaret H. Marshall to chief justice of the Supreme Judicial Court -- a position from which she went on, last fall, to write the decision opening the door to same-sex marriage.
"He tried to use his position for political purposes whenever he felt moral issues were at stake," said Boston College university historian Thomas H. O'Connor. "But he was in a different climate. By the time Law came in, Catholics were more sophisticated, better educated, and of a higher socioeconomic bracket, and they were less inclined to take religious dictates at face value."
Some bishops, including Law and O'Malley, expressed public displeasure with officials who strayed from church teachings. Birmingham said he was disinvited from speaking to his Catholic alma mater, Austin Preparatory School, because of his support for abortion rights; Senate President Robert E. Travaglini said he was once sitting in church when the priest started criticizing him for supporting civil unions for gays. And in 2000, Chief Justice Suzanne V. DelVecchio of the Massachusetts Superior Court was disinvited from a featured role at a church dinner for lawyers because, she said, O'Malley was unhappy with a speech she gave to the Massachusetts Lesbian & Gay Bar Association.
O'Malley, despite a decade of service as bishop of Fall River from 1992 to 2002, remains significantly less well-known among lawmakers than Law was, and thus far has had little direct contact despite his interest in public policy.
Gerald D'Avolio, a longtime lobbyist for the Massachusetts Catholic Conference, said in an interview that O'Malley has yet to call Finneran, Travaglini, or other lawmakers in relation to the gay marriage fight. Finneran, who said he first met the archbishop last Sunday at a Massachusetts Citizens for Life assembly, believes O'Malley could step into a more prominent political role, but may not want to.
"There may be so many other issues that present themselves to him that he chooses not to, at least in the early years, spread himself too thin," Finneran said.
Despite his Franciscan preference for the poor and his apparent aversion to hobnobbing with elites, O'Malley is not without political know-how. Last Sunday, at the Massachusetts Citizens for Life assembly, O'Malley displayed a familiarity with local political leaders, referring to former Boston mayor Raymond L. Flynn's college basketball career and Finneran's recent hip surgery. And on Thursday, he delivered the invocation before Governor Mitt Romney's State of the State address.
"The good news for the church in Massachusetts at least is that, I believe, in Sean O'Malley, there is a very unique leader," said State Senator Mark C. Montigny, a New Bedford Democrat who has frequently derided the church's hierarchy for its role in covering up the sexual abuse of children by wayward priests. "His finest quality is humility, and I believe it."
The most obvious impact of the church's changed role on Beacon Hill was that the Legislature, after years of refusing to do so at the urging of the Catholic Church, in 2002 decided to add clergy to the list of professionals required to report suspected child abuse to public authorities. Birmingham, who was Senate president for seven years, through 2002, said the church was also less involved in a debate over casino gambling because of its internal problems.
"The scandal both weakened the church's role and inhibited the church," Birmingham said.
State Senator Marian Walsh, a West Roxbury Democrat, said Catholic lawmakers like herself, who grew up steeped in the church's teachings and culture, began to think critically about the church's reach only after the abuse scandal came to light.
"It wasn't just about a cardinal or a bishop talking to leadership or members in their offices or at the cardinal's residence," said Walsh, who used to speak with Law monthly. "It was much deeper. It was in our fiber."
Walsh said the scandal devastated the church's influence.
"It will never be the same," she said. "It might be better someday, but not someday soon."
Still, the Catholic Church remains the envy of other denominations in Massachusetts. Jewish and Protestant leaders say Catholic bishops are routinely allowed to speak first at legislative hearings, often hours before leaders of other religious groups testify.
"Regardless of everything that has transpired, there still is this sense of prominence" of the Catholic Church, said Rabbi Ronne Friedman, the leader of the largest synagogue in Massachusetts, Temple Israel of Boston, and a supporter of gay marriage. "There isn't a counterweight."
And some wish the state's largest church would focus on other matters.
"Catholic bishops have every right to lobby as hard as they can," said the Rev. Nancy S. Taylor, the president of the Massachusetts conference of the United Church of Christ, which is the state's largest Protestant denomination. "It's a shame, however, that they have chosen to sink so many resources on limiting the civil rights of a slice of the population."
But the bishops say they are just trying to protect the family.
"We're not trying to deny anyone their civil rights," O'Malley said. "We're concerned about the common good."
The best example of the bishops' efforts can be seen with Dupre, the bishop of Springfield, who for several weeks has been traveling from parish to parish in his Western Massachusetts diocese, telling parishioners that the Catholic Church has a right to speak out, and that "Some values are going to have to prevail. If it's not our values, it will be somebody else's values." After mentioning ills challenging marriage, such as infidelity, promiscuity, and domestic violence, and offering advice as to how parishioners can contact their lawmakers, Dupre closes with a warning.
"We encourage you to get involved," he says. "Otherwise, you will have no one else to blame if marriage is changed forever in the state of Massachusetts and perhaps in our whole country."
In an interview after Mass, he concedes the difficulty of the church's position: "It is an awkward moment, and I think there are some people that will be influenced by that in some way," Dupre says. "We have a problem. It's more difficult today. But I still think we have to do our duty and we have to fulfill our responsibility, as the Bible says, in good times and in bad."
Michael Paulson can be reached at mpaulson@globe.com.![]()