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“Numerous parishes targeted for closing held prayer vigils last night,” reported Michael Paulson, the Globe’s astute religion correspondent. Paulson sized up the territory:

O’Malley said the closings are necessary because the Catholic population has been moving to the suburbs and because attendance at Mass is declining. Other reasons, he said, include financial problems, the poor state of repair of many parish buildings, and a dwindling number of priests. He said that more than one-third of all parishes are operating at a deficit and that 130 of the archdiocese’s pastors are over 70.

The archdiocese has hired a real estate specialist to help sell off the property associated with the closing parishes, many of which own churches, rectories, convents, schools, other buildings, and, in some cases, open space. The archdiocese has not said how many properties it plans to sell, but it is sure to be significant.38

The next day, May 27, came the news that Pope John Paul II had appointed Cardinal Law pastor—or “archpriest,” in Vatican parlance—of Santa Maria Maggiore, one of the great basilicas in Rome. Peter Borré understood gilded parachutes as a reality of corporate life; but redeeming Law, with an elevation from the convent in Maryland to a perch in Rome, showed a huge disregard for the suffering he had caused. Abuse survivors and Voice of the Faithful activists raised an outcry. John L. Allen Jr., Vatican correspondent for National Catholic Reporter, explained the Curia’s view to the Globe: “The idea was to find a position in which his baggage would not bog things down, but give him a job which allows him to set up shop here, where he’s still treated with deference and respect, in part because he’s a cardinal and in part because some people think he got a raw deal.”39

For Lennon—but more so for O’Malley—the timing was awful.

Angry parishioners saw their churches on a chopping block while Law, who had betrayed them, found redemption with a cushy job in Rome. Archbishop O’Malley had a meeting the following day with pastors from across the archdiocese. Media trucks waited outside the church in Weston. Law’s new job “is adding fuel to fire that is already burning in people,” Bowers told a reporter. “It’s an utter disgrace.”40 His words were sure to incense the archbishop, a Franciscan who believed in vows of obedience; nor was the language a tool for negotiating. But hostility was rumbling among certain priests toward Lennon, as Law’s handpicked successor, and whether he knew how Law had managed the money.

Father Stephen Josoma had come to the meeting with his own misgivings. Josoma’s St. Susanna parish was in Dedham, an island of the Charles, and it had made the suppression list for no reason he could see other than its eight prime acres with plenty of shade. The letter ordering the suppression gave no adequate reason. Josoma wanted answers for his people. O’Malley’s responses at the closed meeting stressed that Bishop Lennon’s clustering was carefully planned; Reconfiguration would be painful, parishes could file a request for a review, but the priests must support the plan.

In the five-hour meeting, Archbishop O’Malley quieted some fears by assuring the priests that none of the fifty-eight who signed the letter asking Law to resign would be punished. The closures were not about reprisals, he insisted.

Church officials disseminated a 168-page manual on how to terminate employees, remove sacred objects, and deal with journalists. Sacred items must be removed to a specified place. “Shortly after the doors are closed, Archbishop Séan will deconsecrate the Church so that we can sell it,” the manual continued. “Sacred items will be removed … After this is done, the Church may be sold for any use except one that would be deemed sordid.”41

During a break, Josoma introduced himself to the archbishop as one of the fifty-eight priests who had demanded that Law resign. “You’re asking me to do something I cannot in conscience