Defiant Catholics in the tiny southern Avalon Peninsula community of Portugal Cove South, N.L., have changed the locks on their inactive church and are telling prospective buyers to stay away.
But the church’s leader in eastern Newfoundland, Archbishop Peter Hundt, said all Catholics must “accept the hurt and consequences of the sins committed against the innocent.”
The small number of parishioners in Portugal Cove South — a small coastal community on what is locally called the Irish Loop — are vowing to prevent the century-old building from being sold by the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of St. John’s as part of a court-supervised liquidation of assets needed to pay $104 million in settlements of scores of sexual abuse complaints.
“You will not be welcome in our community, and we do not want this church to be anything other than what it is now, [which is] a church and a historical building that’s part of our community,” said Cynthia Power, who chairs a committee that raised thousands of dollars to renovate the church five years ago.
The last mass at Holy Rosary took place Sept. 1, and there are no plans for the local priest, Father Peter Golden, who is based in nearby Trepassey, to return to the church.
The town hall was also recently contacted by a representative of a potential buyer who requested an occupancy permit for the church.
So with the very real possibility that their church will be sold, Power and others took action after mass on Sept. 1. They installed new locks on the two entrances to the church, and they say they won’t relinquish those keys to anyone.
“We’d rather have the church here in our name, even if it eventually falls down,” said Clarence Molloy, who’s been mayor of Portugal Cove South for a stunning 49 years and has deep family connections to the church.
Built more than a century ago, Holy Rosary has been the spiritual heartbeat for this staunchly Catholic Irish Loop community for generations.
But its fate has never been more uncertain. There are very few churchgoers because, like many communities along this shore, Portugal Cove South is fading.
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There are 80 homes, but many are unoccupied or are seasonal residences. And there are just two young children.
Golden turns 88 later this month, and it’s unlikely he’ll be replaced.
In order to attend mass, residents now have to travel 12 kilometres to Trepassey.
For the few people who still support Holy Rosary, it’s a grim outlook, but they are as feisty as ever when it comes to protecting their strong Catholic culture and the church that their grandparents built between 1916 and 1917.
“We want everyone to hear and feel how we feel about the injustice that is being done to our community,” said Power.
Five years ago, Holy Rosary was crumbling. Church leaders said it was time to either invest in the sanctuary or let go completely.
The congregation rallied, however, and raised $134,000, with supporters near and far opening their wallets.
“It was unanimous. Everybody in the church said, ‘We’re not letting our church fall down,'” said Power.
A contractor was hired to replace the roof and install new windows and siding.
In a break with tradition, however, they removed the confessional because “people here don’t sin,” joked the mayor.
The church had new life, with a couple dozen regulars attending mass.
Then, two years ago, the courts ruled that the archdiocese was liable for abuses carried out at the notorious Mount Cashel orphanage.
The archdiocese has been selling off all its properties — including Holy Rosary — in order to raise the millions needed to compensate hundreds of victims.
Holy Rosary was originally listed for $75,000, and one person offered to buy the church and allow the congregation to continue using it if they paid the insurance and heating costs. But the congregation responded with a hard no.
“We stuck by our guns and we’re still sticking by that, and we want to keep our church,” said Power.
The potential buyer moved on, and the asking price has since dropped considerably.
The mayor said he’s opened the doors for no less than three potential buyers to view the church in recent months.
But that hospitality has come to an end.
Molloy said he’s not ready to see the church sold and converted into a seasonal residence or a tourist attraction like a microbrewery.
If the congregation had not invested so heavily into upgrades in 2019, there would be no interest in the property, he said.
And Molloy said the current asking prices of less than $50,000 is insulting.
“You can’t build a shed for $40,000,” he said.
In some other parishes throughout the archdiocese, the local congregation has rallied and bought their churches back. That’s not going to happen in Portugal Cove South, said Power.
“We are not buying back something that we already own,” she said. “This church was put here on land that was owned by the people, built by the people, fixed up again by the people. So how can it not be our church?”
Power said she has sympathy for the abuse victims, and feel they deserve to be compensated, but said, “I don’t feel our community and our parish should be punished for something that we didn’t do and we didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Members of the congregation recently sent this letter to Archbishop Peter Hundt, saying they want their church to be removed from the sales list.
Meanwhile, Catholics like Power and Molloy accept the fact that regular services likely won’t be held anymore at Holy Rosary church.
But what they won’t accept is the loss of their church, and believe they can maintain it for community use.
“We just raised $134,000 to renovate this church. A little light bill and an insurance bill? Absolutely can take care of that,” Power said.
In a statement, Hundt said that the sale of church properties is a source of hurt and pain for Catholic communities in the archdiocese, including Portugal Cove South.
But, he said, it’s the result of a court decision that “we must accept and respect.”