This one felt long in the delivery of it...so I suspect it felt long in the hearing, as well...but sometimes it just takes a little while to say what you've got to say.
Seventh Sunday of Easter B
I
thought about becoming a priest from a very early age.
In
fact, my mother enjoys telling the story
of
how I once promised the priest
who
had baptized me a few years before
that
I’d take his place when he got “too old.”
But
becoming a priest wasn’t the only thing I thought about.
For
a time, I thought I might like to become an archeologist.
This
may have simply been based
on
a little boy’s desire to keep digging in the dirt,
but
I’m still rather fascinated
by
the way archeologists unearth our human history.
By
and large,
archeologists pick through garbage—
really old garbage:
the
bits and pieces human beings
have unwittingly left behind.
The
do so in order to figure these people out:
what
truly mattered to them;
what they thought most important;
what
their priorities were; what made them tick.
I
wonder if archeologists
studying our time some day
will
struggle because of the rise of recycling:
we’re
not—and rightly so—
leaving quite as much garbage behind.
But
one thing we do produce a lot of is data.
We’re
great record keepers in the modern age—
in
particular, financial records.
Once
on paper, but now mostly digital,
we
keep very careful track of how money flows.
All
those records—whether we realize it or not—
paint
a picture of what matters to us.
If—for
example—archeologists five-hundred years from now
were
to look at pay stubs from our era,
they
would probably conclude
that
movies stars and professional athletes
were
the most important people in our society,
based
on the enormous salaries we were willing to give them.
Accurate? Yes and no…
…but
it is, no doubt, what the evidence would suggest.
Now,
what if you were to die today
and
the only artifacts left behind to help archeologists figure you out
were
your check book, or your credit card statements,
or
however else you manage your finances?
What
conclusions would they reach about you?
Based
upon the available evidence,
what
values of yours would they suppose?
What
would they determine your priorities to be?
And
even more to my point:
Would
your religion make the top ten? Or
even the top twenty?
And
why? Or why not?
As
Jesus once very perceptively noted,
Where your treasure is,
there also will your heart be. (Matt
6:21)
I
come before you this morning
needing
to address two very pressing financial issues in our parishes.
The
first is the downward trend in regular Sunday giving.
You,
no doubt, can see it each week in the bulletin:
our
collections are quite consistently down
when
compared to the last couple of years,
even
though headcounts during the same timeframe
show
Mass attendance to be holding fairly steady.
I
wish I could say that our expenses
were,
likewise, consistently going down…
…but
you and I both know that the opposite is the case.
The
result is that all four of our parishes
are
in deficit spending right now,
for
a combined deficit of more than $40,000 already—
an
amount that will only go up as we approach the end of the fiscal year.
For
St. Helen’s, St. John Bosco, and St. Joseph’s,
this
means that we’ve been withdrawing from savings—
a
very bad habit to fall into, and one which cannot go on forever.
For
Notre Dame, this has meant borrowing money from the diocese
for
the second year in a row,
leaving
us nearly $30,000 in debt.
Given
the situation, I have worked very hard
with
our staff, trustees, and Finance Councils to keep costs down…
…but
I’m running out of things to cut.
And
so I’m now asking all of you
to
increase your regular giving to our parishes.
What’s
needed—just to keep up, not even to get ahead—
is
about a 10% increase across the board.
If
you’re giving $10 a week, that would mean $11;
if $20, then $22.
I
myself have been giving $32 a week for the past year;
as
of today, I’ve increased my offering to $35.
On
a priest’s salary, even that modest increase pinches a bit…
…but
what is called for here is sacrifice.
And,
bit-by-bit, these sacrifices add up.
About
400 households out of the 2,200
that
make up the Malone Catholic Parishes
regularly
use offering envelopes;
if
every current envelope user
increased their weekly gift by $5,
that
would be more than $100,000 in only a year’s time.
(And—of
course—I highly encourage all of you who currently don’t
to
consider requesting and to begin using envelopes.)
No
gift is too small…and every gift is absolutely essential.
While
the general situation of regular giving
is
the first financial need I must address today,
the
second is specific to Notre Dame Parish.
(And
since our four parishes
have
become more and more intertwined over these last nine years,
I
share this with everyone.)
It
is a day of great rejoicing
as
we reopen Notre Dame Church
after
the boiler failed more than a month-and-a-half ago.
I
hope you agree: the place looks great,
especially
considering all it’s been through—
and
it sure feels good to be back “home!”
But—as
the slight chill in the air makes apparent—
we
still do not have a functioning boiler.
And
since we’re already $30,000 in debt,
buying
a new one just isn’t in the budget.
And
so we are beginning a Capital Fund for Notre Dame Parish.
Over
the course of the next year,
we
hope—we need—to raise at least
$100,000
for
the threefold purpose of
(1)
purchasing a new boiler, (2) paying off our debt,
and
(3) providing the parish a modest financial cushion
so
we’re better prepared to weather the next storm,
whenever
it may come.
Several
parishioners have already stepped forward
to
get this fund off the ground;
their
generosity is most encouraging.
But
we still have a long way to go.
In
addition to my increase in weekly giving,
I
am pledging $1,000 to the Capital Fund.
I
ask all Notre Dame parishioners
to
consider what you might be able to give
over
the next twelve months
to
help get our parish back on solid ground.
And
to those of you who are not parishioners of Notre Dame:
while
this request is in no way directed toward you,
I’m
sure your brothers and sisters at Our Lady’s church
would
be most grateful should you decide to lend them a hand.
I
can’t, of course, from the pulpit
lay
out everything I wish to share with you on these two matters.
All
of our registered parishioners
will
be receiving a letter from me in the mail
over
the next few days.
(If
you’re not yet on our mailing list, but would like a copy of the letter,
please
just call or stop by our offices.)
So
watch for this, read it carefully,
and
then think and pray about the support you provide to your parish.
In
the gospel this Sunday
we have
the unique privilege
to overhear
Jesus praying to his Father
in
the course of the Last Supper—
a
passage known as his High Priestly Prayer.
And
as he seeks their continued protection,
Jesus
asks the Father to “consecrate” both his followers and himself.
To
“consecrate” something
is
to permanently set something or someone aside
for
God and God’s purposes.
It’s
a sacrifice: a gift that cannot be taken back.
We’re
accustomed to hearing this word
used
to speak about the Holy Eucharist…
…yet
even though he’s still at table with his apostles,
Jesus
isn’t speaking here of consecrating bread and wine.
He’s
praying that you and I be set apart for God and God’s purposes.
The
Christian way of life is different—
it’s
distinct—from the world’s way on many fronts.
Christians
consecrate their time—
setting
aside Sunday (for example)
as
a day for worship, rest, and reflection…
…while
the rest of the world tells us
just
to sleep in or play sports, to go shopping or go to work.
Christians
also consecrate their sexuality—
setting
aside physical intimacy
as
part of God’s design for committed married love
and
bringing new life into being…
…while
the rest of the world says, “If it feels good, do it!”
And
Christians are even called to consecrate their material resources—
to
exercise wise stewardship of this world’s goods
as a
sign that they don’t even belong to this world…
while
the rest of the world urges us to simply keep accumulating more.
In
these—and countless other ways—
we
are to be consecrated: called to sacrifice,
called
to love one another because God has so loved us.
And—as
Pope St. Leo the Great once put it—
“If
God is love, charity should know no limit,
for
God cannot be confined.”
To
be perfectly honest with you:
I
don’t like having to talk about money.
But
I will not apologize for doing so.
For
one thing, a quick look at the gospels reveals
that
it was one of the most common subjects of Jesus’ own preaching.
Money
is such a big and important part of our lives
that
we cannot expect to keep its use
somehow
segregated from the practice of our faith.
I’d
really prefer, however, to spend my time
visiting
our sick, teaching our young people,
and
encouraging new ways to help us all grow in holiness—
the
sort of ministry, I’d guess, that you
expect
from
your parish and from your priests.
But
lately I’ve had to spend much too much of my time
figuring
out how we’re going to pay our bills…
…and
worrying about what to do if we can’t.
You
can change that!
Although
the Church is, indeed, ancient,
her
life is not a matter of archeology.
She
remains—like her risen Lord—very much alive!
While
we build on strong foundations
so
generously laid by generations past,
let
us keep looking forward and pushing ahead.
We
mustn’t let the current challenges hold us back!
Make
sure your treasure follows the values of your heart.
Then
we will leave enough evidence
that
others, one day, might be able to see
what
truly mattered most to us.
