Protesters reach out to Rome

Giovannina Rosapane, 80 years old and 4 feet 11 inches of anguished fury, pumped her fist as she shouted her protest against the archdiocesan leaders trying to shutter her church.

''I don't exist anymore," she thundered in Italian, standing defiantly in the glare of high-intensity television lights on the altar of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church in East Boston. ''I'm finished! I'll die with this church!"

Emotions have boiled up at Mount Carmel and the seven other churches where around-the-clock protest vigils have forestalled parish closures planned by the Archdiocese of Boston. Rosapane's lament last week was remarkable, though, in that it was beamed live via satellite to millions of viewers of ''Mi Manda Rai Tre, a prime-time talk show on one of Italy's top television networks.

The broadcast last week, and the fact that the Vatican sent a monsignor to the studio set of the Rome-based show to provide counterpoint, showed how the protesters at the 100-year-old church have been able to do what their counterparts at the other protesting churches have not -- make their case in the court of public opinion in Rome. The protesters are hoping that their appeal as Italian Catholics to Italians will lead to a reversal of the decision to close Mount Carmel.

''Other churches who are doing the sit-ins don't have this luxury that we have," said Lorenzo Grasso, 52, a parishioner for four decades and one of the protest leaders. ''Rome is our hope."

This hope has been tempered by what some parishioners called a growing sense that the Vatican has betrayed them.

Archbishop Sean P. O'Malley has said that his plan to close or merge 83 of the archdiocese's 350 parishes is the result of a shortage of priests and the dire financial condition of the archdiocese.

''Mi Manda Rai Tre" host Andrea Vianello said in an interview that he was attracted to the Mount Carmel parishioners when he learned of Rosapane's prodigious letter-writing campaign on behalf of the church; recipients included Pope John Paul II, numerous Vatican officials, and President Bush.

In a 20-minute-long segment of the program, Mount Carmel protesters were shown on a huge screen prominently displayed in the show's futuristic set, dominated by a large, bright-red circular couch. There, the sole studio guest, Vatican representative Monsignor Agostino Marchetto, sat as Vianello wandered about the set, microphone in hand, town meeting-style, occasionally addressing the studio audience. The Mount Carmel parishioners were able to hear what was said on the main set, and reacted with howls of protests to some of Marchetto's comments.

At one point in the program, Vianello read out parts of a statement that the Boston Archdiocese had faxed to his studio. The statement said the parish had to be closed because of falling attendance, fiscal problems, and ''significant facilities problems at the church building," drawing shouts of protest from the Mount Carmel parishioners.

Some parishioners said they saw the decision to close Mount Carmel as anti-Italian discrimination, especially because it was taken against the recommendation of a committee appointed by the archdiocese.

Some of those intense feelings, supporters and fellow Italians said, stem from the fact that their church is not simply a conduit to God, but a tangible connection to their homeland. This is particularly true for older Italian-Americans and those born in Italy.

''The church has always represented a clear reference point for generations who have gone abroad," said Stefano Salimbeni, a freelance Italian television journalist who is preparing a report on the East Boston protest for Rai International, a channel seen by millions of expatriate Italians. ''It is like an umbilical cord to the motherland."

During the broadcast, one parishioner told Vianello that when her family left Italy, the parish became their first cultural and emotional foothold.

''When we left our country and our family and church in Italy, we started our home around this church here," said Debra Tauro, 64. ''This is where we clustered around. Now they are taking this church away from us."

Tauro told Vianello and the Roman studio audience that she could not bring herself to attend the final Mass at the church in October.

''It would have been like a funeral. Funerals are for people, not for churches. Churches should live," she said, as the studio audience in Rome applauded enthusiastically.

While the broadcast is seen as a public relations breakthrough by Grasso and others such as Peter Borre, cochairman of the Council of Parishes, an umbrella group for lay leaders at occupied and soon-to-be closed parishes, it remains to be seen whether it will have any effect on the closing process.

The ''Mi Manda Rai Tre" show also demonstrated the perils of mixing such passionate feelings with live television. Grasso said the protesters talked over one another and made it hard to understand parts of the segment.

Vianello repeatedly steered the camera back to Rosapane and her lively, heartfelt responses.

Grasso said he feared that Rosapane's emotional answers may have obscured what he and other parishioners believe is a strong factual case for keeping the church open and instead closing the dilapidated Our Lady of the Assumption Parish nearby. Our Lady of Mount Carmel parishioners say their church was targeted for its valuable real estate.

At one point in the program, the Vatican representative, Marchetto, said the Franciscan order could no longer send a priest to the church; the Mount Carmel parishioners responded with shouts of ''Liar! Liar!"

Unable to help himself, Grasso said the emotion of that moment caused him to blurt out a particularly salty Italian expletive, which he at first tried to explain away as ''a word Italians use."

On live TV, he was asked.

''No, not really," he replied.

Ralph Ranalli can be reached at ranalli@globe.com.