"These people are really wearing me down.”

Angela, a parishioner

“The anxiety usually begins on Friday, and doesn’t go away until long after Mass is over.”

Bill, a parishioner

“Go in there at your own risk!”

Church protestor

“I’d like to see that big old church blown to smithereens.”

Church protestor

“Every Sunday: Demonstration at Cathedral”

Paul Baier, “Voice of the Faithful”

“Prohibited activities: Whoever by force or threat of force or by physical obstruction, intentionally injures, intimidates or interferes with or attempts to injure, intimidate or interfere with any person lawfully exercising or seeking to exercise the First Amendment right of religious freedom at a place of religious worship.”

Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act of 1994

DO WE HAVE FREEDOM OF ACCESS?

(or are intimidation tactics hindering Cathedral parishioners’ right to worship?)

The Lady in the Pew: October 9, 2002

About eight months ago, as the celebrant was about to begin his homily, a man strode up to the ambo and began yelling. He was gently escorted out of the church and the service continued.

A couple of Sundays ago, a lady decided she simply couldn’t “go through the gauntlet” of protestors outside my parish church, and opted to skip the 11:00 AM Mass.

On this same Sunday, about fifteen minutes prior to Mass (a time, in any other church, that is used for quiet prayer and reflection), the shouts through the bullhorns grew so loud that we had to ask the police to, pretty please, ask the protestors for a little bit of quiet.

A couple of months ago, I was asked by a regular protestor to refrain from using the church’s main entrance, and to, incidentally, stay away from “their area.”

(Being the dedicated coward that I am, I was quick to oblige.)

Last Sunday, after making her way through “the gauntlet,” a usually cheerful parishioner leaned tiredly on her cane, mumbling to me and a few friends: “These people are wearing me down. I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”

Parishioners and guest worshippers at Cathedral of the Holy Cross are regularly subjected to harassment. We’re commonly called “child molesters” and worse. (“The Cardinal’s Whore,” is the latest epithet hurled at least one worshipper of the female persuasion.)

Our children are loudly warned to “watch their private parts,” as they enter the church, and their parents are chided for “placing them in danger.”

After Mass, those of us who remain for a little fellowship washed down by a cup of coffee find it difficult to converse over the screams of the protestors. As a climax, we are subjected to the sights and sounds of people with hateful signs and hate filled faces converging menacingly toward our pastor; an ugly mob surrounding him as he slowly, tortuously makes his way out of the parking lot. And those of us who show our support for him as he leaves are, once again, verbally pummeled. We try — we try very hard — to shrug it off, to explain it away, to change the subject. Some of us have succeeded, so far.

Some of us are intimidated as hell.

“Oh, Kelly, why make a federal case out of this?”

Actually, I’m not sure I have to. Maybe President Clinton and Attorney General Reno already did back in 1994.

The stated purpose of the “Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act of 1994” should go without saying, but here it is anyway:

“Pursuant to the affirmative power of Congress to enact this legislation under section 8 of article I of the Constitution, as well as under section 5 of the fourteenth amendment to the Constitution, it is the purpose of this Act to protect and promote the public safety and health and activities affecting interstate commerce by establishing Federal criminal penalties and civil remedies for certain violent, threatening, obstructive and destructive conduct that is intended to injure, intimidate or interfere with persons seeking to obtain or provide reproductive health services.”

In other words, it was enacted to protect people seeking abortions, and people providing abortions. But interestingly enough, the writers of the act included the following in the act’s definition of “prohibited activities”:

“Whoever by force or threat of force or by physical obstruction, intentionally injures, intimidates or interferes with or attempts to injure, intimidate or interfere with any person lawfully exercising or seeking to exercise the First Amendment right of religious freedom at a place of religious worshipÉ” [emphasis, obviously, Kelly’s]

“Yeah, but Kelly? Nobody’s using threats to intimidate you guys, right?”

Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I mean, “Go in there at your own risk,” seems a bit on the “threatening” side to me. How would you interpret that?

How would you feel if somebody said that to you? Imagine it being said in an appropriately threatening tone of voice, along with a threatening look on the speaker’s face: how would you feel?

I’ll tell you how I feel, and how some of my friends feel.

Some of us almost jump out of our skins at any sudden noise or movement during Mass. An accidentally dropped hymnal can leave one shivering for a good ten minutes.

Some of us participate in the celebration with one wary eye on a side door, waiting for somebody to burst in.

Some of us, after Mass, walk rapidly, heads down, toward our cars or toward our homes, hoping not to be noticed. Others of us head for the relative shelter of the hospitality areas, bound and determined to wait until the protesters leave the premises before leaving the premises ourselves.

You couldn’t pay me enough money to willingly use the main entrance to my parish church. I already told you: the protesters asked me not to. They called me by name and asked me not to intrude on “their area.”

And I also already told you: I’m a coward.

Not everyone’s a coward, though.

Again, to quote “Voice of the Faithful’s” Paul Baier:

“Sun, Sep 22: "Law Must Go" demonstration at Cathedral”

The demonstration was a flop, but the day itself wasn’tÉnot for Cathedral parishioners. What a joy it was to greet people who came from miles away to worship with us, and to show support for our pastor.

And I’m filled with admiration for the many parishioners and guests, who (unlike me) walk serenely through “the gauntlet” Sunday after Sunday, ignoring the screams, obviously feeling more than adequately armed by faith.

I want to be like them when I grow up.

But meanwhile, “the gauntlet” is getting to me. I’m taking the threats — and I’m sorry, but they are threats, albeit perhaps not in the spirit the drafters of the “Freedom of Access Act” meant — extremely seriously.

“So whaddya gonna do, call the FBI?”

Actually, I did. Months ago. The agent I spoke to was very nice, very sympathetic, in fact, very Catholic. But, as he explained to me:

“To my knowledge, there is no law against people acting like [expletive deleted] in front of your parish, Miss Clark.”

Maybe not. I’m no lawyer, nor am I a law enforcement official. I recognize that the protesters are well within their First Amendment rights to vocalize their displeasure with my pastor.

But where is the line drawn between freedom of speech and downright intimidation?

I don’t know. I expect the lady who refused to go through “the gauntlet” has own ideas about where that line is drawn.

So. Fair warning:

If this column does nothing else, I hope the message gets out. I hope it gets out to the backers of these protests, including “Voice of the Faithful,” “STTOP,” and “CCS” (I can’t keep up anymore with what all the new groups’ initials stand for):

Threaten my fellow parishioners, guest worshippers, priests, deacons, altar servers, or anybody else in my parish within my hearing and I will try my best to press charges against you under Section 248; (a); (2) of the “Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act of 1994.” Look it up, protest leaders. The penalties are a little more than a tiny fine or a slap on the wrist.

I sincerely pray that this doesn’t happen. I sincerely pray that the above-mentioned backers make darned sure it doesn’t happen. For one thing, I don’t want to see anybody in jail.

And for another thing, I’ve gotta admit it: I wouldn’t have a clue as to how to press these charges. (Any legal sharpies out there? Lemme hear from you!)

“Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

Beautiful words. If the protest backers would say them to their people, that would also be beautiful. And it would certainly elicit a very heartfelt “Thanks be to God” from the lady in the pew.

And now for the fine print:

Kelly Clark is your basic nobody. She serves on no parish councils, belongs to none of the myriad of designer-chic "Catholic" groups, or any Catholic group, for that matter, other than the Roman Catholic Church. Holding no theology degrees, she has no desire so see herself or any of her sex wearing a clerical collar. She figures Jesus knew what He was doing when He established His Church, and also figures that it’s His Church, not hers, and not yours. She’s an ordinary parishioner of Cathedral of the Holy Cross, Boston.

“The Lady in the Pew” column is updated weekly, God willing. To be notified of updates, please e-mail Kelly Clark.

“Mary, Mother of the Church, pray for us.”