The century-old church fractured and finally collapsed over whether to accept the new bishop, V. Gene Robinson, an openly gay man consecrated in November 2003.

"This is very painful," said Kevin Gorham, a longtime parishioner. "But it's a viability issue that we have been wrestling with at Redeemer for a long time."

The election of Bishop Robinson roiled the worldwide Anglican Church. Other bishops vowed to break away from the church, and in October an Anglican commission asked the Episcopal Church U.S.A. to apologize for the division it had caused with Bishop Robinson's appointment.

Last month, the primates of 35 regions asked the Episcopal Church U.S.A. and the Anglican Church of Canada, where a diocese created a blessing for same-sex couples, not to send representatives to a major meeting of church leaders in June. In mid-March the American bishops decided not to approve any new bishops at all for a year.

At Church of the Redeemer about 35 parishioners in a church where the number of regular churchgoers had already dwindled to about 50 would not accept the notion of a gay bishop. They would not take communion after Bishop Robinson's consecration and were angry at his predecessor's decision to dismiss the church's conservative pastor, who the diocese said did not have a license to minister in New Hampshire.

At the group's request, Bishop Robinson transferred control of the church to the bishop of Albany, N.Y., with the condition that Bishop Robinson attend an annual event at the parish, which he said canons mandated. The group saw it as a reluctance to cede control.

Last June, the 35 walked out of a parish meeting, eventually forming St. Michael's parish, which is not affiliated with the Episcopal Church U.S.A. and meets in a Baptist church here. The parish is affiliated with the Anglican Communion Network, a conservative Episcopal group.

"We got to a point where we weren't going to negotiate anymore," said Lisa Ball, a parishioner who left. "We weren't going to break our values."

It was not the first defection from the Episcopal Church. In the 1970's and 80's dozens of worshipers left after the denomination started ordaining women and rewrote its prayer book. "This has been a long time coming," said Mike Barwell, a spokesman for Bishop Robinson.

This parish is the only one in the Diocese of New Hampshire to fracture significantly and ultimately close over Bishop Robinson's consecration, Mr. Barwell said.

The split severely depleted the Redeemer community; of the 35 people who left, 10 were members of the vestry.

Initially, Episcopalians from around the diocese attended Sunday Mass at the church in a show of support. Slowly, they stopped coming. The low point, Mr. Gorham said, came in August, when about five people, including the priest, attended Sunday Mass in a church that seats 500. It was then, Mr. Gorham said, that the remaining parishioners realized the parish had to close.

"When you get in the habit of solving your problems by walking out the door, once that habit starts, it's hard to break," Mr. Gorham said. "We never really regained anybody. Every time we had a takeaway, if 50 people left, maybe 5 came to us." Parishioners asked for mission status, in which the church would not have a permanent pastor and the diocese would have complete oversight of the church. It was becoming clear that the church, which pays for the large building's utilities, could not sustain itself. The church had less than $15,000 in its coffers, but it would not be enough to stay open. In December, church leaders decided it had to close.

Many Redeemer members saw the decision as a relief, as they could finally worship without having to worry about trying to keep their church open.

"It was a consensus among the team," said Bruce May, a parishioner. "It was kind of a sigh of relief."

Mr. Barwell said Bishop Robinson felt the same way. "I think they were freed from the worries of having to pay the bills six months from now," Mr. Barwell said.

"They were a prayerful congregation," he said, "and I think the best thing for the church was to pass it on, and they've done so without any bitterness or blame or rancor; and, of course, there's grief, but there's also gentleness to go along with that grief."

Sue DeLemus, a former Redeemer member who, with her husband, Jerry, defected to St. Michael's, said the experience had been painful.

"We're sad for what's going on at Church of the Redeemer now," Ms. DeLemus said. "It's not something that we rejoice about. We're not reveling that things have gone south."

The diocese is not sure what it will do with the building, which also houses an Indonesian congregation and adult education classes. The diocese plans to come back to Rochester, Mr. Barwell said.

Parishioners have spent the past few months lingering a little longer in coffee hour and around the altar after Mass. They do not want to be remembered as being the church that split over the gay bishop and want to close quietly, spending the last Mass alone, out of the spotlight. What parishioners want, Mr. May said, is a chance to say goodbye to their spiritual home.

"We just want people to respect the fact that we would like to close with dignity," he said. "This is a group of people that was struggling and struggling to keep their church alive. The church may close, but our faith and spirit are stronger than ever."

END