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Text Paper Translate RELIGION | AHOUSE DIVIDED Fault lines among the faithful Parishioners' loyalties have complicated the merger of St. Leo and St. Cecilia parishes By RICHARD C. DUJARDIN JOURNAL STAFF WRITER PAWTUCKET Old rivalries die hard. Just ask the Rev. Michael A. Sisco, who as pastor of the new Blessed Pope John Paul II parish was given the task last summer of merging the churches of St. Leo the Great and St. Cecilia, just two blocks from each other at 699 Central and 1253 Newport avenues. It's not that the parishioners of St. Leo and St. Cecilia have ever hated each other, but locals say there were enough real differences to keep their members at a distance. To locals, St. Cecilia's was "the French" parish, established in 1910 to look after the area's French-speaking immigrants and their descendents. St. Leo's, dubbed "the Irish" church, was, since 1916, the area's territorial parish, open to all nationalities. The rivalry had gotten to the point where people rarely crossed the line to go to the other church, even though they were so close. "It's something people just didn't do," says Bruce Guindon, who remembers a similar situation when he was growing up in the former Sacred Heart parish and was scolded by a nun for once having attended the former Notre Dame Church in Central Falls. "She thought it was sacrilegious of me to go to another church. Well, it was the same way here. If you were of French descent, which I am, you were to go to St. Cecilia's, and that if you weren't French you'd go to St. Leo's." While the influx of Portuguese and Hispanics, Italians and Polish would eventually blur the congregations' ethnic differences, the divisions were apparent as late as last month, when John Paul parish held its first bazaar — one bazaar in two locations, since neither group would give ground to the other. "It makes me sad sometimes when we kind of forget that we are Christians here who are supposed to love one another and get along with one another," Father Sisco remarked the other day. "But on the other note, I realize that, human nature being what it is, change comes difficult for people. "I try to take it all with good humor." As soon as Father Sisco was given the assignment, he says, he knew he had a tough task ahead. "The church isn't like McDonald's, which can decide to open one restaurant and close another," he says. "People's family histories are here. "These are the buildings where their parents got married and where they were baptized, and where they got married and buried their parents from. There are a lot of emotions attached to these buildings." So he followed Bishop Thomas J. Tobin's advice and told parishioners he has no immediate plan to close either of their beloved churches — now known as the "tan" church (the old St. Cecilia's) and the "red" church (the old St. Leo's). "Closing either of these buildings is not a foregone conclusion," he said. "Plan A is to try to fill them, and keep them so we can operate them in the black. "If this doesn't happen after five to seven years, then we'll have to look at some other alternatives. But for the moment, we seem to be holding our own. I'll have a better picture when we get through our first fiscal year in July." And how do parishioners see it? It depends on whom you talk to. Guindon, who had been attending St. Leo's and was on the committee that recommended the merger, said he'd be lying if he said everything has gone as he and others had hoped. "Unfortunately, there's resistance on both sides. People don't want to let go." Even now, seven months after the merger and three months after Father Sisco's installation, all but one of the lectors and Eucharistic ministers from the old St. Leo's won't take any assignments at the old St. Cecilia's. And those at the old St. Cecilia's say the same about the old St. Leo's. The only ones who appear to have no problem going back and forth are the altar servers. Because of the continued divisions, the parish also has two music directors, one for each building, with separate choirs for each. The question is, of course, why force people into a marriage they don't want? Father Sisco says the merger was a financial necessity. St. Leo's had piled up $630,000 in debts to the diocese trying to keep its school operating before deciding to close in 2008, and those debts have to be repaid. St. Cecilia's has a bell tower and a set of stairs the diocese says could cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to repair. "Both parishes were having trouble surviving on their own," he says. While some parishioners say they are puzzled how there are going to be any cost savings without closing either of the churches, Father Sisco says there are ways. Already, he says, they've successfully merged the staffs without anyone losing a job, with some voluntarily reducing their hours. He's looking to realize big savings by cutting back on outside vendors, remarking that one of the maintenance men, a "computer tech guy," has helped the school achieve savings by doing work previously outsourced. "I also have a few friends who say they can do the repairs on those steps at St. Cecilia's for much less than what the diocese estimates, without removing the steps," he says. As for the bell tower, "I bet there is a cellphone company that would love to put a tower there. It's the highest point in the city." The priest says he can also raise money by selling St. Cecilia's rectory and convent, though he draws the line at selling St. Leo's School, saying he doesn't want it scooped up by a charter school that would compete directly with his St. Cecilia's School. When churches merge, the turmoil often causes attendance to nosedive. At the new Pope John Paul parish, the number of Masses has been reduced, to a 4:30 p.m. Saturday Mass at the old St. Cecilia's, and Sunday Masses at the old St. Leo's at 8 a.m. and noon, and at the old St. Cecilia's at 10 a.m. But parishioners say they have seen no decline in attendance. The parish has about 1,200 families. Adam Scott, who joined St. Cecilia's when he and his wife moved from St. Mary's parish four years ago, credits Father Sisco with doing a "phenomenal job" in drawing people to church and bringing the groups together. "When he says his homily," Scott said, "you have a feeling he is talking directly to you." (Until now, the parish life was being helped, too, some say, by Msgr. Jacques Plante, who heads the diocesan Office of Evangelization and was filling in at some of the Masses as a priest-in-residence . He'll soon be leaving to replace the Franciscans as the new administrator of St. Mary Church in Providence.) Scott said that when he and his wife attended Mass at the "tan" church on Christ-mas Eve, which ended with the French carol "Il Est Né Le Divin Enfant," "I don't think there was an empty pew in the building." "I think it's a very good thing," he said of the merger. "I think it has strengthened our community here by bringing us all together." Matt Turner, 39, and his wife, Amanda, 36, said they also see positives in the merger. A technical writer for a software company, Taylor said he and his wife joined the parish in 1997 after they got married at St. Cecilia's two years earlier. Turner said the first encouraging sign he saw was when more than 450 people filled St. Cecilia's parish hall after Father Sisco's installation Mass in October. But while the parishioner says the majority of people are "on board," Father Sisco acknowledges the difficulties. One tough decision was formulating a Christmas Mass schedule that would satisfy those on both sides of Newport Avenue. He figured he had come upon a sensible compromise between St. Leo's traditional midnight Mass and St. Cecilia's 10 p.m. Christmas Eve Mass by having the late-evening Mass at St. Leo's at 11 p.m. and the morning Masses at St. Leo's at 8 and St. Cecilia's at 10. But the priest soon learned it was unacceptable to some. One woman told the priest that the schedule had effectively shut out her 92-year-old mother, who, as a matter of principle, never sets foot in the old St. Cecilia's. Since the only Christ-mas Day Mass at St. Leo's was at 8 a.m. — too early, she said, for an elderly person — she said her mother ended up going to another church miles away. Hearing the story, Father Sisco promised to make an adjustment, saying that on Easter Sunday, he would move the 8 a.m. Mass at St. Leo's to 9. "I don't want to force anything down people's throats," he said. "I think in 10 years it's all going to be fine. "I think we can find a way to keep both churches operating, and that if we did have to close, it will be up to the people." rdujardi@providencejournal.com   (401) 277-7384 THE PROVIDENCE JOURNAL / STEVE SZYDLOWSKI Parishioners enter the former St. Cecilia Church for Mass this month. Their parish and the former St. Leo's have merged. JOURNAL / STEVE SZYDLOWSKI Father Michael Sisco, pastor of the combined Blessed Pope John Paul II parish, is sensitive to the histories of the two parishes and their resistance to the merger. "I try to take it all with good humor," he says. THE PROVIDENCE JOURNAL / GLENN OSMUNDSON Father Sisco leads a 5:15 p.m. weekday Mass at the former St. Leo's. Finding the right schedule of Masses is challenging. THE PROVIDENCE JOURNAL / STEVE SZYDLOWSKI Bill and Julia Masse, of Pawtucket, attended Mass at St. Cecilia for 50 years. THE PROVIDENCE JOURNAL / GLENN OSMUNDSON Fay Lovejoy, who was a member of St. Leo Church, lights a candle before the 5:15 p.m. weekday Mass. Many members have celebrated key family events at the two churches. THE PROVIDENCE JOURNAL / GLENN OSMUNDSON Matt and Amanda Turner, of the former St. Cecilia Church, say the merger may help make the churches stronger.

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