BOSTON (AP) – Massachusetts, one of the most Catholic states in the country, is witnessing an ever-widening rift between church and state on a raft of social issues, from same-sex marriage and abortion “buffer zones” to stem cell research and emergency contraception.

The schisms reveal that the once mighty political clout of the Catholic Church in Massachusetts is in a state of flux. Large numbers of state lawmakers still identify themselves as Catholic but are picking and choosing when to side with the church and when to break with it.

The recent decision of Catholic Charities, the Boston Archdiocese’s social service agency, to end its century-old adoption program rather than comply with state law barring discrimination against gays and lesbians is just the latest fissure.

Part of the church’s declining clout may be the clash between its strict moral views and the messy business of politics, observers say.

“When the church has a position, it tends to be categorical,” said Tufts University political science professor Jeffrey Berry. “Lawmakers want their interest groups to take half a loaf and the church isn’t eager to bargain. They want it their way.”

The church is already resisting a new law requiring all hospitals to distribute emergency contraception to rape victims upon demand, and church leaders are backing a proposed ballot initiative that would rewrite the state constitution to overturn the historic state Supreme Judicial Court ruling that legalized same-sex marriages in 2004.

The erosion of the church’s political influence came into stark relief when leaders of the Massachusetts House and Senate, both Catholics, vowed to fight efforts by the state’s four Catholic bishops to win an exemption to the anti-discrimination law which they said would let them continue adoptions without violating church teaching.

The only top politician to side with Boston Archbishop Sean O’Malley and other Catholic leaders was Republican Gov. Mitt Romney, a Mormon and possible 2008 presidential candidate.

Senate President Robert Travaglini, a Catholic, opposes the exemption. He said he treats the church as he would any other constituent, giving church leaders “no more or less influence on the deliberations in this building than anybody else.”

“I’m very comfortable with my relationship with my creator. The teachings of the church have founded me and established a position in life for me both politically, [and] professionally and spiritually,” said Travaglini. “I’m very comfortable whenever there’s a difference.”

Opponents of the exemption, including Lt. Gov. Kerry Healey, a Republican candidate for governor in this fall’s elections, said they didn’t want to set a bad precedent.

While the church has found itself at odds with state lawmakers on issues like abortion, same-sex marriage and stem cell research, it hasn’t always faced a roadblock in the Legislature.

For example, Massachusetts remains one of about a dozen states in the country without a death penalty, which the Roman Catholic Church opposes.

The church also helped persuade House lawmakers to kill a bill that would have forced religious organizations to disclose their finances. The bill was filed in reaction to the sex abuse scandal, which thrived on secrecy as accused priests were shipped quietly from parish to parish. Supporters of the measure said they wanted more fiscal transparency in the church, including settlements to victims of clergy sex abuse.

The church had more sway on Beacon Hill under former House Speaker Thomas Finneran, a conservative Catholic, who stepped down as speaker in 2004.

Finneran blocked action on the abortion buffer zone bill for years, finally allowing a vote on a watered-down version. And it was on Finneran’s watch that the state narrowly avoided reinstating the death penalty after a single House lawmaker switched his vote.

Edward F. Saunders Jr., executive director of the Massachusetts Catholic Conference, the church’s political arm, said the church’s declining clout can be measured in the changing attitudes of society.

“I think societal concerns are more important to people today than moral concerns,” he said. “Just look at what’s changed in society in just the past 50 years.”

The Catholic Church’s latest Beacon Hill battles are rooted in a long history of political activism in Boston and Massachusetts, which saw its ranks of Catholics swell during the great waves of European immigration in the 19th century.

Over the decades, the church’s influence on public policy has waxed and waned, according to James O’Toole, a history professor at Boston College.

The church’s influence on civic life hit a low water mark in the wake of the clergy sex abuse scandal that erupted in 2002. The scandal shook the faith of many Catholics and led to the resignation of Cardinal Bernard Law, who stepped down after his failure to remove abusive priests from ministry.

Subsequent investigations have indicated that about 1,000 children were abused over four decades by dozens of priests, many of whom were simply shipped from parish to parish as a way to conceal the scandal.

“I don’t think there’s any question that the whole sex abuse situation has diminished the presence of the church,” said O’Toole. “A lot of Catholics said ‘Gee, the leaders don’t seem to be on our side, and maybe they aren’t on other issues, too.’”

Former Boston Mayor Ray Flynn, a conservative Catholic and former U.S. ambassador to the Vatican, also blamed the church’s political anemia on the clergy sex abuse scandal. He said Catholic politicians feel free to split with the church on key social and moral issues without fearing any backlash from voters or church leaders.

Flynn said the way for the church leaders to regain their sway on Beacon Hill is to regain the moral high ground.

“They have to stop being intimidated, afraid to speak out,” he said. “There are enemies of the Catholic Church and the only way to deal with your enemies is to confront them.”