As a dairy farmer, Kevin Jahnke knows all about early mornings, but Tuesdays are a special case.

When his alarm sounds at 12:30 a.m., Jahnke, 42, drives 10 miles to St. Mary's Catholic Church in Fennimore.

For the next hour, he sits in a small chapel, sometimes praying, sometimes reading or sometimes just staring at a wall to clear his head.

At 2 a.m., another parishioner takes his place.

For more than 12 years now, this prayer chain has gone unbroken. Seven days a week, 24 hours a day, someone is always in the chapel.

The effort seems logistically daunting, especially for a relatively small congregation, yet church members say they are driven by a powerful spiritual component.

The chapel houses the communion bread used during the Eucharist, the Christian sacrament that commemorates the Last Supper.

In the Catholic faith, the bread and wine become the body and blood of Jesus Christ when consecrated. As parishioners enter the chapel, they believe they are entering the company of the Lord.

"We believe he's as present there as he is in heaven, just in a different form," said the Rev. George Horath, St. Mary's pastor.

The practice of keeping a constant presence with the body of Christ is called perpetual Eucharistic adoration. It began centuries ago in monasteries but only recently emerged as something a parish could do, said the Rev. Rick Hilgartner, who helps oversee liturgical practices for the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops in Washington, D.C.

Fifteen years ago, the practice was relatively unheard of in the U.S., and it's still uncommon, said Hilgartner, who estimates that perhaps a couple hundred of the 19,000 Catholic churches in the country have chapels of perpetual adoration.

"On a national level, that is significant to be doing it that long," he said of St. Mary's.

Only one other parish in the 11-county Madison Catholic Diocese — Holy Redeemer in Madison — has a chapel of perpetual adoration.

It began its prayer chain nearly three years ago.

In most Catholic churches, the communion bread is stored out of sight. If it is visible, such as in a chapel of perpetual adoration, then the expectation is that it never be left alone, Hilgartner said.

Establishing a perpetual adoration prayer provides a practical way to show gratitude to the Lord and a time each week for parishioners to spend in contemplative prayer, he said.

It often brings spiritual benefits and graces, such as a return of fallen-away Catholics and an increase in the number of conversions, he said.

The parishioners at St. Mary's did not undertake the effort lightly.

They studied, discussed and prayed about the idea for nearly two years.

Because the prayer chain cannot be interrupted by other church events, parishioners could not use the main sanctuary. So they converted a former classroom in the church hall into a small chapel.

Each week, the congregation of 380 adult members must fill 168 one-hour slots.

Yet the effort to recruit volunteers was much easier than expected, said Phyllis Doan, who handles much of the scheduling.

"I believe it's the Holy Spirit kind of taking over," she said. "Our approach has always been that it's our job to get them there and it's God's job to keep them coming back."

Although a few people take more than one shift per week, most commit to an hour, which means about 160 people are involved at any given time, Doan said.

If someone needs a substitute, they call the special phone line installed at her house.

Jeff Jackson, another member heavily involved in the effort, said it's actually easier to get people to commit to a one-hour weekly shift than to find volunteers for a one-time event, such as a pancake breakfast.

"This is a pretty good gauge of what a small parish can do," he said.

Some participants travel upwards of 30 miles and are members of neighboring Catholic parishes.

Jahnke, the dairy farmer, attends Saint Clement Parish in Lancaster. He's been filling the early morning slot on Tuesdays for nearly the entire 12 years, having converted to Catholicism at about the same time.

"I find that it's often better than church because there are no distractions," he said of his time at the chapel. "It just kind of helps me clear my head and decide where my priorities need to be."

Participants aren't told what to do. They can sit in silence, pray the rosary or read a religious book from a nearby library shelf.

"Many people view it as an oasis where they can leave behind the cell phones and iPods and Blackberrys and find a sacredness with God that's free of clutter," Hilgartner said.

Parishioner Dick Rogers, 72, said the chapel of perpetual adoration has heightened the spiritual growth of the congregation and made the Eucharist more meaningful to him. There are no plans to break the chain, he said.

"The reality is that part of it is kind of bragging rights that we've been able to do this for so many years," he said. "But more than that, it's a chance to prove the true faith of our parish."