The parish to which I've belonged for a few years is experiencing financial difficulties. No surprise here, considering the tough economic environment. Unfortunately, though, the difficulties could have been avoided had the Rector heeded my warnings about embarking on an initiative that endangered future parish revenues. The chickens have come home to roost, and, frankly, I'm furious.
It's not my intention for this blog to become autobiographical, so let's just say that the Rector's initiative involved what the Poles colloquially call "pissin' in the soup." The problem that I have with guys who think that theology substitutes for a solid administrative sense is that their strategy relies on a hope that random events will be, on average, serendipitous. Sorta like the job seeker who prays to God for employment, but doesn't get off his duff. Certainly miracles have their mysterious place in this world, but they do not constitute the "ordinary means", as our Latin friends tell us.
Yes, I'm furious at the Rector, but I'm also very aware that he made the best decision of which he was capable as shepherd of the flock. His job isn't about superlative administration. His job is faithfulness.
It's my job to dig deeper into my pockets to make sure that the financial difficulties don't erode his livelihood.