It's the season for giving again, the two month holiday period between Halloween and Christmas, when Americans of all walks of life line up with their hands out for treats and presents from other Americans who are working extra jobs and cashing in their Christmas club accounts to accommodate them. The little kids call this "trick'r treat." and refer to one of their benefactors as "Santa Claus."

Ever eager to take advantage of this seasonal outpouring of spiritual generosity, my local parish sent me a letter promising peace, joy and happiness in my life and the lives of others if I would consider a "new offering" based on a portion of my income. OK, I considered it. Unfortunately for them, I had already been approached by "Feed the Children" and the Christian Children's Fund, both of which took higher priority because they provide verifiable benefits to those who need them. My parish doesn't call what they want "trick'r treat," they call it "stewardship." The difference is that the trick'r treaters are happy with a candy bar, while the stewardship people want five percent of my income. Actually, they feel I should give TEN percent, but they are willing to split that amount with unspecified "local, national and international charities." Five percent for stained glass for the new doors in the church and five percent to feed starving children. Stewardship!

Stewardship is well documented in Scripture. In the Bible, Abraham was concerned about his steward Eliezer, a Syrian, taking over his house. (Genesis 15:2) His great grandson Joseph employed a steward to welcome his brothers to the palace (Genesis 43:19) and play a practical joke on them. (Genesis 44:1-4) There is a story of a disloyal steward who allowed his master's cavalry captain to get drunk on duty, (1 Kings 16:9) and another where the stewards were made privy to David's military plans so they could best support them. (1 Chronicles 28:1) Stewards appear in the parable of the Owner of the Vineyard, (Matthew 20:8) and the Unjust (Luke 16:1-4) and Unwise (Luke 12:42) Stewards.

Herod's steward Chusa and his wife Joanna are mentioned in Luke's Gospel. (Luke 8:3) Paul talks about the obligations imposed on "stewards of the mysteries of God" (1 Corinthians 4:1-2) and points out the logical necessity of being trustworthy. (1 Corinthians 4:2) In his letter to Titus, he points out that the bishop is the steward of God. (Titus 1:7) In his first epistle, Peter urges Christians to be good stewards of God's manifold grace. (1 Peter 4:10)

According to the Old Testament, the tithe -- giving 10% back to God --originated for the purpose of providing an income for the priestly class, the Levites, who were required to work for the community and thus forbidden to own or inherit land. The "ten percent rule" applies to herds and flocks, and guarantees that the Levites, who would be expected to constitute about 8% of the population, would live about as well as the average Israelite. It is imposed in Leviticus 27:32:

"The tithes of the herd and the flock shall be determined by ceding to the Lord as sacred every tenth animal as they are counted by the herdsman's rod."

The Catechism of the Catholic Church talks about the obligations of human stewardship over the earth's resources for the good of mankind (paragraph 2402), and the resulting implications for the care of animals (paragraphs 2417 and 2457 and following). In all cases, the meaning of stewardship is clear. A steward is a person entrusted with the management of another's property, finances, estate, fellow employees or clients. Stewardship has nothing whatever to do with sharing; it has to do with conserving, with preserving, enhancing, increasing, and using wisely the resources entrusted by the owner to his steward's care.

In an effort to make increasing its income sound less like trick'r treat and more like stewardship, my parish takes a two pronged approach. The first uses emotionally laden buzz words in a kind of psychological warfare against rational analysis. Thus, we have "stewardship initiative" for the month of November. Initiatives signal the beginning of something, a kind of emotional kickoff of a massive orgy of ecclesiastical trick'r treating to foster a "stewardship way of life." This is presumably directly opposed to some other way of life, or perhaps a way of death, for the stingy and miserly. We are asked to indicate a "treasure intention" on "treasure commitment Sunday." Everybody knows what "treasure" is, it's wealth beyond one's wildest dreams, steamer trunks overflowing with gold and jewels, such as Bilbo was thought to have brought back from the Lonely Mountain. Who could begrudge the Church a measly few million dollars from the unimaginable vastness of one's "treasure?" "Commitment" is also a nice, church-like word. What Christian could be against "commitment?"

The other prong is a little more tricky. Since Scripture makes it clear that real stewardship is directly opposed to squandering the master's resources, appeals can be made only to those words and phrases which can be taken out of context, while concealing the real meaning quoted. Thus we are reminded that "No one shall appear before the Lord empty-handed, but each of you with as much as he can give, in proportion to the blessings which the Lord, your God, has bestowed," (Deuteronomy 16:16-17) while carefully avoiding the fact that this passage is taken directly out of instructions for management of the logistics of week-long festivals. The statement that "You are being enriched in every way for all generosity, which through us produces thanksgiving to God," (II Corinthians 9:11) refers to contributions to be made by the people of Corinth for the relief of starving people in famine-ravaged Macedonia undergoing a "severe test of affliction" (II Corinthians 8:2), not to enriching their own local churches. It is devilishly difficult to find anything in Scripture which even remotely suggests that anyone has an obligation to simply give away resources entrusted to his care, even when they are solicited by somebody in the name (although not necessarily for the purposes) of God.

Now, I am one hundred percent in favor of supporting the Church. Supporting one's church is an obligation, not an option. In the Catholic Church, it is one of the six Church laws. The heating, air conditioning, candles and amortization of the church utensils, vestments and physical plant all cost money, not to mention maintenance of the parish school and implementation of other parish ministries. Doing one's share is a requirement of justice, not charity. Anyone who doesn't want to support his church doesn't deserve to belong. I also have no problem with people who want to give more than their fair share, even a lot more. I salute their magnanimity. Tourists from all over the country travel to my town to receive joy and happiness by contributing their hard-earned money to the local casinos, which seems OK to me if they have it to spend and it pleases them. The casinos don't promise peace, joy and happiness, but they do promise a chance of becoming rich which is at least statistically quantifiable. They also provide employment for the uneducated and promote valuable social services by paying local and national income taxes and teaching valuable lessons about the difference between hope and expectation, which the church does not. On the other hand, the church fosters good feelings and positive moral values, so I figure they're both reasonably legitimate recipients of one's disposable income.

Much more legitimate, in my humble opinion, are agencies that put charity where it's truly needed. "Feed the Children" seems to be pretty good, and I have raised six urchins, along with four of my own children, through my participation in the Christian Children's Fund, so I know it works. My first urchin is now approaching fifty;. I used to think that Catholic Relief Services was OK until I read that Ken Hackett, executive director of CRS, refused publicly to assist in the truly horrific humanitarian catastrophe of war-torn Iraq with the excuse, "We don't want to be part of a military operation to deliver humanitarian aid," so I crossed the CRS off my Christmas list and put the Swift Boat Veterans on. Stewardship!

Of course, if people prefer beautifying the church grounds or installing new stained glass in the doors or plating the church building with sparkly ornamentation instead of feeding starving children, I don't have a problem with that either, as long as the money is in fact solicited for beatifying the church grounds or putting in new stained glass or installing superfluous ornaments.

What I have a problem with is being asked for "sharing our gifts with a grateful and loving God" by an organization that spends it for frivolous purposes. At the same time, they forego necessities and neglect the true mission of the Church, which is to preach the Gospel and baptize all human beings. As the song says, "There are a lot of big preachers, with a suit and a tie and a vest. They tell you to send your money to the Lord, but they give you their address." Christian clergymen in the United States have a long tradition of fleecing the faithful (which may be why we're called "sheep") but that still doesn't make it holy or right or even honest.

Catholic churches are frequently identified with large crosses. Ours used to have a huge one out in front made out of ordinary plumbing pipe. I liked that cross! It was like me, plain, functional, efficient, durable, common, even. The kind of a cross a Carpenter might have outside His house. Then somebody decided to "symbolize the caring stewardship commitment of so many to build God's Kingdom" by building a massive wooden form on it and then plating it and the front of the church with shiny stainless steel. Now it can be seen from as far away as international waters, a shining monument to secular ostentation and conspicuous consumption, even though the church is destroyed. That's pretty much where I draw the line.

When new, expensive hardwood doors were installed on the church, I thought it would be appropriate to bid on three of the old ones, since the doors they were throwing away were much better than the ones I have on my home. Unfortunately, the old doors were ruined by being left out in the rain to crack, warp and peel, so even I couldn't use them. The parish denied me the opportunity to improve my home with some really good doors, and deprived itself of a little extra income. Stewardship!

We were fortunate in our parish at that time to have three clergymen, a pastor, a parochial vicar, and a pastoral associate. The associate is of a clerical order different from the other two. They appear to me to treat him like an unwanted country stepchild, possibly because he ministers down here in the trenches with us other sheep rather than up in the ivory towers where the priests and bishops live. The parish didn't even buy him the vestments he needs for the church liturgy, although our pastor and vicar have more than they can possibly wear at any given time.

To resolve this problem, I offered to buy him one of the green vestments his order is required by canon law to wear. These things are not cheap, and I didn't know where they came from, so I asked him to get a catalog number or stock number or whatever for one that matched the existing parish vestments, let me know where to order it, and I would pay for it and have it sent to the church.

Big mistake!

For reasons which were never explained to me, somebody from the church canceled my order and ordered another vestment of the type required for the senior clergy. When the vendor informed me of this, I replied that the church could buy whatever it wanted, but that I was paying for only what I had ordered, which was specifically intended for the pastoral associate. He finally is now decently clothed on certain green and white days, but on days when red garments are worn, he still has to participate in his liturgical underwear because the parish hasn't gotten around to buying him even one red vestment. (Occasionally, the presiding minister chooses to wear a green vestment of a slightly different design, so, to avoid contrasting designs, the associate can't wear his green vestment on those days, either.)

Our parish has, however, gotten around to buying expensive, noisy clappers for the church's blangy bells, which heretofore had been blessedly silent. (I have a hearing problem which makes it painful to walk out of church when the bells are clanging.) We may disagree on the bells, but they can't be necessary to the Spread of God's Kingdom on Earth; we got along for so long without them. Stewardship!

Meeting in Baltimore in 1852, the American Catholic bishops mandated the establishment of a parochial school in every parish to educate Catholic children, and to pay the teachers from the parochial funds. Today we have seafood festivals, Mardi Gras preparation, "boogie on the bayou," and various other events to support the parish school, all of which are a testament to the faith, dedication and hard work of the parish clergy and laity. Even with all this help, however, the teachers are still paid starvation wages which might possibly have been minimally sufficient for cloistered nuns in the last century, and only a small fraction of the parish parents can afford to send their children to Catholic school. They are now caught in a vicious circle, in which parents don't feel they can afford the tuition, which rises as a result of dwindling enrollment to make it that much less affordable next year. This is now compounded by the fact that we have a whole generation of Catholic children who have been educated in public schools and don't see any particular value in sending their children to expensive parochial ones. They aren't showing up much in church or encouraging their sons to be clergy, either.

It seems to me that sponsoring festivals and other fund-raising events to support the school, while done with the best of intentions, is counterproductive. It gives the impression that education of the next generation of Catholics is just a big game. Residents of the local community eat, drink and party in a carnival atmosphere, schmooze with the parish big shots, and come away secure in the satisfaction that they have done their share for the kiddies, who have to be satisfied with whatever revenue happens to be generated after expenses and cleanup. So far, it's just not nearly enough.

My personal opinion is that there is exactly one way of this deplorable situation, to simply make the decision that educating every single school age Catholic student in the parish school, and paying the teachers a fair competitive wage, takes first priority over everything else, and then do whatever it takes to make that happen. It may be tough, but Jesus never promised anything else. The parties should be used to support nonessential expenses, such as operating and improving the church building itself. I believe that if the congregation had to shiver in a dark unheated church because they couldn't afford the electricity for both it and the school, they would come up with the extra bucks, but nobody asked me.

Perhaps the issue of stewardship was demonstrated most forcefully by Hurricane Katrina, which destroyed our parish church. The church had been built to withstand the winds of Hurricane Camille, which blew away the previous one, and it did that very well. Unfortunately, it was not designed to withstand the Katrina storm surge, which topped Camille by about seven feet. Katrina didn't hardly recognize the existence of the flimsy sheet rock church walls! The storm surge smashed through the walls, gathered up all the furniture inside the church, and battered it through the back of the church building. It also took out the school in back, changing the concern from how to finance the operation of the school to how to have a school at all.

Wouldn't it have been more appropriate to take all that money that was spent on the new doors and the blangy bells and the glittery cross and spend it for steel plate across the front of the church to keep the water out so that we'd have a church without a cross now instead of a cross without a church? Wouldn't that have been nice? Wouldn't it have been a more efficient use of the available church improvement funds? Does it really make sense to make the walls of a supposedly hurricane resistant building on the seashore out of stuff that dissolves in seawater?

Stewardship!

Our parish bulletin lists the total of the previous week's collection, and occasionally reports the amount raised by the various fundraising activities. Every so often it publishes a pretty standard financial report which shows assets, liabilities, expenses and net worth. We also have periodic appeals for increased donations such as "treasure commitment Sunday" and "Catholic sharing appeal." What we do not have is an accounting which permits each parishioner to know whether he is donating his fair share to support the various ministries, or any way to control which ministries receive what percent of his donation. We have a parish council which is allegedly involved in all of this, but it's not obvious what the parish council actually accomplishes. I once donated $100 for coffee to keep them awake during meetings, but I don't know if it was actually used for that.

Another problem is that our few clergy are badly overworked. The days when a parishioner could drop by and receive spiritual guidance and refreshment from his pastor or vicar during a smoke in the evening on the front porch are long gone. Nowadays all the clergy are busy with "administration" and "appointments." There are activities and committees and ministries which demand the priest's personal attention. They aren't even always around during scheduled confessions. Many of our clergy have full time civilian jobs, which seems to me a mixed blessing, but it does give a fellow worker the opportunity to discuss religious matters and moral problems if he is lucky enough to run across his pastoral associate during a coffee break.

This preoccupation of the clergy with worldly affairs has led to a serious disconnect between the laity and their spiritual leaders, especially at the upper echelons. It has also driven some of the clergy over the brink of rational behavior, as evidenced by the number of Catholic parishes that have been required to use their income as compensation for victims of child-molesting priests. Hardly any Catholic goes to weekly confession any more, and most pastors don't know anything about most of their parishioners except who they are. The bishop doesn't even know that! Our diocese encompasses three large military bases, but at last count we had exactly three military chaplains, none of whom are on the diocese staff, and the bishop has not had the opportunity to do more for the military than say prayers for them and set up a little memorial book next to the front door of the chancery. Fueled by the understandable repugnance for war from dedicated preachers of peace, the monthly editorials in the bishop's newspaper are often offensively anti-military. It's not the bishop's fault; he's a lawyer by training. But it would certainly be helpful if he had a chief master sergeant and master chief petty officer on his staff to keep him from insulting and antagonizing his military flock and, just possibly, ministering to their specific needs.

I respectfully submit that stewardship is not sharing, it is just what the name implies, trusted management of the property, finances, estate, and people whom Almighty God has entrusted to our care. In the case of the church, it has to do with preserving, enhancing, increasing, and using wisely the resources necessary to preach the gospel and baptize all persons, which is it's reason for existence. Any expense that doesn't directly support preaching and baptizing isn't what Jesus said He had in mind.

As an engineer, I am perhaps predisposed to see things in the light of physical reality, to observe my environment as the way things appear to be, not as I would like them to be or think that they ought to be. I have been observing the Catholic Church for over half a century, and it seems to my engineering eyeballs that pretending that stewardship is sharing in an attempt to extract more money for purposes other than teaching and baptizing is unlikely to accomplish anything worthwhile. I believe that it is time for our clergy to take a more realistic approach, to recognize that we are not ignorant sheep, and that the church, which consists of all the People of God, is made up overwhelmingly of lay people who know a thing or two about stewardship that the priests and bishops, for all their moral theology, don't.

It would help me tremendously in my exercise of stewardship if my parish would publish a weekly financial statement that showed required expenses, such as amortization of the church debt and expenses for liturgical activities, and then the nice to have things, such as new stained glass panels for the fancy new doors. I think I should also be told what they did with the old merely functional ones that we all previously paid for. It would also be helpful if we could get a weekly count of how many people showed up for mass and what the per capita take was, so people could know what their fair share was, whether everyone gave it or not, and what sacrifices were necessary to stave off bankruptcy if congregational generosity didn't improve. Perhaps it would be appropriate to acknowledge large or unusual donations. I believe it would also be worthwhile for somebody to come up with a plan of how to make it possible for every single school age child to be educated in Catholic grade and high schools and to initiate a drive to make that happen within my remaining lifetime.

This is an exhortation toward that end. I suspect that some of my fellow parishioners may not agree with me, and a few of them may even give me hell for it, but, after all, it's the season for giving.

John Lindorfer

One day, in preparation for his homily about helping the poor, our pastor recounted an experience he claims he has every year just before Thanksgiving. It went something like this:

Pastor: "Hello, Saint Expeditious Parish. May I help you?"
Caller: "Is this the church?"
Pastor: "Yes it is."
Caller: "Is the reverend?"
Pastor: "Yes; I'm the pastor."
Caller: "Y'all gonna have any more of them free turkeys this Thanksgiving?"
Pastor: "Yes we are. You can come over any weekday and pick one up. We close the church office at five."
Caller: (click)

I. e. Stewardship.

Now, I'm all for helping the poor. I've been in countries where people are so poor they will run into the target area on a firing range while the firing is still going on to retrieve the lead and copper bullets to sell for food. If you want to see poor, go to Bangladesh or Rwanda or Somalia. Check out Banda Ache, that was wiped off the map by the tsunami. Compared to these people, nobody in the United States is poor, certainly not people who have places and means to cook a turkey and telephone service so they can solicit free ones year after year.

I might be a little more favorably disposed if this happened only once, or if they had asked where somebody was serving food. If our pastor thinks taking away somebody's last incentive to do something worthwhile with his life, to get a job so he can buy his own Thanksgiving turkey helps him, I'm all for the pastor buying turkeys to hand out to lazy deadbeats, and God bless both of 'em. On the other hand, I am firmly convinced that if people are given the alternative between getting a job and starving to death, most of them will find work, like the Mexicans. The rest of them will improve society in other ways. In any case, if I want to buy turkeys for people who don't work, I can do that directly; I don't need the pastor, who has never raised a family of his own, to determine who needs my money more than my family. The government already does that!

Stewardship!

Another example of stewardship involves the "Save Saint Paul's" plaintiffs. Shortly after it was announced that St. Paul's parish would be incoporporated into a new Catholic parish with a church further inland (to replace the one that Hurricane Katrina ruined), these people filed suit against The Catholic Diocese of Biloxi, Inc, the Most Reverend Thomas J. Rodi, and Reverend Dennis Carver. Included in the requested judgment are punitive damages in the maximum amount allowed under Mississippi law and all the plaintiffs' costs, expenses and attorneys fees.

Imagine, these people sued their own clergy for punitive damages. Stewardship!

In addition to whatever they paid to Vaughn, Bowden & Wooten, PA (P. O. Box 240, Gulfport, Mississippi 39502) to represent them, the plaintiffs have also considerably eased whatever poverty was being suffered by the partners of Brunini, Grantham, Grower and Hewes, PLCC, (P. O. Box 127, Biloxi, Mississippi 39533, Telephone 228-435-1198 and P. O. Box 119, Jackson, Mississippi 39205, Telephone 601-948-3101) who are defending the suit. I'm not faulting the lawyers, that's what lawyers do, and the worker is worthy of his wage. On the other hand, I believe that a decent respect for the generosity of all the church contributors from whom all this money was donated "to the Church" in the first place would suggest that the bishop should demonstrate in some dramatic way that the Catholic diocese of Biloxi does not look with favor on people who waste its contributors' money with silly-ass lawsuits.

Stewardship!

Some time ago our parish announced that the bishop had requested funds to build a new high school, and that the parish assessment for this purpose was $406,954. The title of all this is "Catholic Faith for Tomorrow - A Future with Promise." This sounded like a really good idea to me, so I got dressed, bought some gas, and motored over to our parish office with my checkbook (twice!) to find out how much each parishioner was expected to give to meet this goal. Because I am old and senile (or perhaps just stupid), I figured that somebody could tell me how many families there were, and dividing the total figure by the number of families would give me some idea of the minimum my family (I) would be expected to contribute. I like to do a little more than my share.

Like I said, I am old and senile, or perhaps just stupid!

The first time I showed up, nobody would discuss the matter at all, because you have to play by the rules, and no rules for check donations had been enacted by the parish legislative powers. I got the additional impression that the number of families in our parish is classified data not releasable to us ignorant sheep. The second time, I got to talk to one of the clergy, who said things about the parish council....committee meetings....firm decision....campaign strategy....fund raising....something. I don't recall him saying anything about "stewardship," but I may have missed it. The impression I got was that accepting donations from vagrant check writers who just come waltzing in from nowhere like they were worth spending time with is not the way we do things in our parish. The way we do things in our parish is determined by worthwhile, important and influential fund raising financial experts, and I would do well to remember who the hell I was and not to get involved with the affairs of my betters. I was then politely ushered (a little church humor there) out the door once again.

The church bulletin the next week contained an insert explaining that it was important that each potential contributor be visited at home by a duly deputized fund-raising volunteer, and that what was being solicited was in fact a pledge to give something, not actual cash money. Shoot! Here I was going to give them money when all they wanted was a trademarked product used for the cleaning and beautification of expensive furniture. So I waited for the volunteers to come calling.

And waited....

And waited....

How long do they expect a guy my age to live, anyway?

In the first "campaign update" I noticed in our church bulletin, it was announced that we had raised 68% of our goal, $275,520, with 71 gifts and 110 visits. The "Average Gift" was reported as $3800.00.

I'll admit, I wasn't prepared to give $3800 (or even to promise to give that much), which seemed like a lot of money for an "Average Gift," so I started doing a little figuring. Because I am a little vague about money and fundraising and suchlike, I had to look up the word "average" in the dictionary. It turned out to be (1) The value obtained by dividing the sum of a set of quantities by the number of quantities in the set, also called "arithmetic mean," (2) an intermediate value between extremes, as on a scale, (3) usual or ordinary in kind or character, and (4) assessed in accordance with the laws of average, which has something to do with insuring ships or their cargo. I assumed that "Average Gift" here meant $275,520/71, which turned out to be $3880.56, even more than reported, and certainly more than I had planned to give. I found it hard to believe that this was the "usual" or "ordinary" gift, and was pretty sure it had nothing to do with ocean shipping. I'm also a little confused about what, precisely, is meant by "gift," given that they wouldn't take my check.

Anyway, this ignores all those visited families who didn't promise to give anything at all, 39 of them, about 1/3 of the total, so the "Average Gift" turns out to be the arithmetic mean of the actual gifts, (whatever they are). The mean of the pledged contributions of those visited, is probably more properly computed as $275,520/110, which is $2504.73.

The next week of the campaign, our church bulletin noted that 23 more families had been visited and the number of "gifts" had increased by 12, a little over half. The "Total Dollars Raised" increased to $288,120, or 71% of the target, which was still $406,954. This is an increase of $12,600, which is $1050 per family that promised to give something, or $547.83 per family visited. The "Average Gift" was now listed as $3471, the mean amount pledged by the 83 families who promised to contribute.

A week later, 20 more families had been visited and the number of "gifts" had risen to 93, an increase of 10, again, just half of those visited that week. The participation rate did not look too good. The "Total Dollars Raised" had risen to $301,940, an increase of $13,820, which is $1,382 per "gift" or $691 per family visited. The "Average Gift" was reported to be $3,247, for a total of 93 "gifts."

Visits to 27 more families resulted in a total pledge of $319,490, and a reported "Average Gift" of $2827.00. Actually, the "Average Gift" of the 27 families visited, only 20 of whom promised to give anything, was ($319,490-$301,940)/27=$650, or $877.50 per pledge. The participation rate peaked at 74% during this week, but remained essentially constant overall, with 113 promises to contribute, on which the "Average Gift" was calculated. Actually 180 families were visited, so the "Average Gift" was more like $319,490/180, or about $1774.94. This is more in my ballpark.

But wait! There's more!

The decline of almost 30% in the "Average Gift" made me wonder if one or the other of them was "usual" or "ordinary," or if perhaps some really generous (or rich!) soul (or perhaps a corporate entity) had skewed the amount of the "Average Gift" by pledging a truly humungous contribution. I noted that in the intervening weeks, the increase was only $43,970, so the "Average Gift" of the 70 families (only 42 of whom actually promised to give anything) was actually $628.14 - definitely in my infield. In fact, if 179 of the families promised $628.14 each, one individual could have promised $207,052.94 to make up the difference. I wonder if the parish might have received a $200,000 pledge, which would have made the "Average Gift" of the original 109 other families $692.84, which is pretty close (statistically speaking) to the current "Average Gift" of ordinary, no account, non-wealthy folks like me. The "Average Gift" of people who actually promised to give something would in that case have been more like $1078.86. Of course, I didn't promise to give anything so perhaps I don't count at all, either among those who made pledges or those who were blessed with a visit from the Elect. On the other hand, if they want promises instead of money, I can put them way over the top.

While talking about all this, our pastor happened to mention that we have "about 900" families in the parish. This sounds about right, since the weekly collection is around $9,000 and I assume each family contributes about $10 per week or so. If each family contributes (on the average) $628.14, we will generate $565,326, which is $158,372 more than our goal, about $452.17 per parish family or 45 weeks and a skosh of ordinary donations. This is assuming, of course, that an "Average Gift" is either (1) negotiable, cash money type, spendable funds, or (2) the "average" amount of gifts pledged, (the amount of pledges actually paid in negotiable, cash money type, spendable funds, divided by the number of families who pledged something.) I don't know if everybody who pledges a certain amount actually gives that, or, in fact, if anyone in charge is interested in negotiable, cash money type, spendable funds, given that they refused to take mine, which was a promise in the form of a negotiable check. I've always believed that you can't buy anything with money that someone has promised to give you, but I am not a church. Maybe they have "Ways."

I really don't think that waiting around for someone to visit to solicit donations is a good idea. Not that anybody of importance cares what I think, of course, but only 20% of our parish families were actually visited, which resulted in an actual participation rate of only 12.6%. That seems low to me. The rest of us are now being encouraged to "consider a specific gift amount" and "contact the parish office."

I already did that! Twice! It takes a while, but eventually I know when I'm not welcome!

Stewardship!

John Lindorfer