a thousand furnished rooms

I am a former Catholic for a number of reasons, some intensely personal and some less so. But I found myself in the Unitarian Universalist faith as an adult. Originally, it was a safe haven for my spiritual journey, but I have found many reasons to stay, and one of the biggest is the powerful way in which each of our churches is organized. Each congregation is recognized as a complete church in itself, and each congregation controls its own membership, manages all its own finances and administration, and selects its own leadership. This includes everything from finding someone to shovel the walk to calling our minister. We only belong to larger associations voluntarily--in our case, the Massachusetts Bay District, and the Unitarian Universalist Association.

This adherence to congregational polity is both simple and profound. We have committees for everything, and, especially in small congregations, every detail needs to be planned--from the flowers for the altar to treats for coffee hour. Yet there is real power in seeing all these details come together in a weekly service, and even more power in witnessing the long-term effort of building a faith community that supports its members in good times and bad. I spent two years as my church's treasurer, and was mindful each week when I paid all the bills how much good work was tied to each check I wrote--the supplies for the religious education classrooms, expenses for the minister, and music for the choir.

Needless to say, the differences between the Catholic Church of my childhood and the Unitarian Universalist Church of my adulthood do not begin and end at congregational polity. We UUs, as we like to call ourselves, are a liberal bunch, and go so far as to be creedless and to perform gay marriages and support abortion rights. But even these things are decided by each congregation, putting the power for both the mundane and the critical in the hands of each congregant.

New England, of course, has a long history of congregationalism. Many a New England town center has Congregational and UU churches, some of which were founded in the 17th century. Indeed, New England's roots are tied directly to its earliest settlers' desires to live unencumbered by a Pope and central leadership. New England is also home to the town meeting, which some still see as the purest expression of American democracy.

Is something afoot in the Catholic Church, where some of these churches, now threatened, will find their way to continued life? Will the diocese decide to keep them open? Will the individual churches try to sustain themselves in some way?
These are certainly not questions for me to answer. Despite my birthright, and despite the fact that I was both baptized and confirmed as a Catholic, it is no longer my church. But it is the church of the congregants in Natick, Sudbury, East Boston and elsewhere. The people who are now keeping vigil around the clock, bringing food and organizing schedules, and finding small ways to keep each other company and pass the time. The people who are, in small but important ways, keeping a faith community alive.

So, no, I can't answer these questions. Some would say only the Archbishop can. But I can marvel at the good works of the people who are keeping vigil, and I can quietly cheer them on. I can even politely suggest that they may have found the answer to their problem already in themselves. And, no matter what they decide, I can tell them that other people of faith are with them in spirit.