In the face of prejudice

When it was built, in 1871, it was one of the first Catholic churches on the South Shore.

“In the 19th century, almost everybody in Hingham was Protestant,’’ Sheldon Daly was saying. “Their servants were mostly Irish, and later Italian. The servants were Catholic and they didn’t have a church of their own.’’

There was a lot of anti-Catholic bigotry back then. And yet the poor Catholics, encouraged by some tolerant, affluent Protestants, were able to build a beautiful church and named it for the saint who was a Jew before that long walk to Damascus.

Sheldon Daly was thinking about that history, the perseverance of a minority in the face of prejudice, the tolerant Protestants who defied the bigoted ones, because now, all of a sudden, his parish, the place where he’s been going to Mass these 50 years, is seen by some as a symbol of intolerance.

The Rev. James Rafferty, the pastor, decided that an 8-year-old boy who had been accepted for next fall’s third-grade class at St. Paul School couldn’t enroll after all, because the boys’ parents are lesbians. Rafferty decided that conflicted with Catholic teaching, and that is certainly his prerogative. It’s a private, faith-based school and everything Rafferty did is perfectly legal.

“But what does that say about us?’’ Daly asked. “What does it say about us as Catholics, as Christians?’’

The contretemps at St. Paul School has become a national story, packaged as yet another skirmish in the culture wars. But for a guy like Daly, it has provoked a crisis of conscience. And so he was sitting in his house yesterday, wondering if he was going to leave the parish he’s called home since Jack Kennedy was president.

He doesn’t know the lesbian couple. He doesn’t know their story. He only knows that their kid being excluded from his parish’s school embarrasses him, makes him feel that all this talk about loving thy neighbor is empty words.

Like many other Catholics, Daly has navigated a life of faith listening to his conscience more than his bishops. He was a senior at Boston College in 1958 when one of his best friends asked him and his then-girlfriend and future wife Nancy to stand up for him.

“At the time, there were about three Jewish guys at BC, and one of them was my friend. He fell in love with an Irish Catholic girl and they wanted to get married. This was very controversial back then, and they couldn’t just get married in any church. We ended up finding a small chapel on Beacon Hill and a priest, a Jesuit, married them. Nancy and I stood up for them at the wedding. He’s Jewish, but he raised his kids Catholic.’’

In 1961, Daly went to Mass at St. Paul’s and he’s been going ever since. He’s been a lector at the parish for 42 years. He sent his kids to St. Paul School. He’s also a big shot at BC and donated tickets to the BC-Notre Dame football game to be auctioned off for the school.

“It’s a good school, and it’s got some very dedicated people working there,’’ Daly said. “But . . .’’

But according to some people whose children attend St. Paul’s, more than one family complained when word got out that the lesbians’ son was admitted.

We all know that Father Rafferty rescinded the decision to accept the boy, but he’s not saying why. Yesterday, I stood in the foyer of the rectory at St. Paul’s. On one wall there is a photograph of Cardinal Sean O’Malley, Rafferty’s boss. On another wall, there is a photo of Father Rafferty with O’Malley’s boss, Pope Benedict.

After a while, a fellow who volunteers at the rectory came out and said Father Rafferty wouldn’t talk to me.

Daly thinks Rafferty should explain himself, explain why, if having gay parents is a litmus test an 8-year-old can’t pass, what about the kids whose parents defy Catholic teaching, whose parents are divorced and remarried? The ones using birth control? The ones who support the death penalty?

“There’s a hypocrisy and a double standard here,’’ Daly said. “And no one wants to confront that.’’

When the sexual abuse scandal exploded eight years ago, Daly was among a group of parishoners who formed a chapter of Voice of the Faithful. They challenged the hierarchy for having enabled the abuse of children by priests, and reached out to victims and good priests alike. Daly asked Father Rafferty if they could use the parish hall, and, somewhat to Daly’s surprise, Rafferty agreed.

“We had some victims come to the parish to speak,’’ Daly said. “Father Rafferty put on a pair of shorts and a polo shirt and sat with us and listened.’’

St. Paul’s was home to some of the worst offenders. John Geoghan ruined lives there in the 1960s and 1970s. A former pastor, John Hanlon, is serving a life sentence for raping an altar boy.

“Kids from this parish who were abused have killed themselves over the years,’’ Daly said. “I know of six. There’s probably more.’’

By turning away a boy with two mommies, Father Rafferty may well have kept some families from leaving his school and his parish. But it may come at the cost of others like Daly, who has been around long enough to have sat in the pews and heard, many times, the Gospel about Jesus and the little children. Parents were bringing their children to Jesus, to have them blessed. It got unruly, with parents jostling, so Jesus’ disciples took it upon themselves to turn the kids away.

“Jesus got mad at the disciples,’’ Daly said. “And then Jesus said, ‘Let the children come to me.’ I’m pretty sure Jesus wouldn’t have thrown an 8-year-old boy out of school, no matter who his parents are.’’

Kevin Cullen is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at cullen@globe.com