Ordo Amoris

Quinquagesima
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  I try to communicate accurately as much as I can, though I do sometimes err.  As a third order Dominican, the truth occupies a special place in my life and in my interactions with others.  When I make decisions, I try to have all relevant information that I can, to help me arrive at the right decision for a particular circumstance.  The more accurate information I have, the better decisions I can make, whether for the immediate present moment or even for the future.
    But truth, while greatly important, should not occupy the highest priority in our life.  St. Paul tells us that love, or charity (that type of love that reflects the love of God) is what is most important.  God could have given you special charisms, like speaking in tongues or prophecy.  You could know everything.  Your faith could be so strong that you, as our Lord said, move mountains or trees.  You could be the most generous person alive, giving away all that you have to the poor.  You could even offer up your body.  But if you do not love, all of that counts for nothing.
    What a good gut check!  How easy we can find it to do the right things.  We check off the lists of the precepts the Church asks us to follow: we go to Mass; we give money to support the parish; we pray daily; we abstain from meat on Fridays or do some other penance.  But even if we do all those things, if we do them without love, there is no merit for us.  All our daily deeds are like dehydrated food.  They have what they need to sustain us, but we need the water of love to rehydrate the food and make it edible once more.
    What many Catholics struggle with today is understanding what love is.  So many people, Catholics and non-Catholics alike, do not understand love.  They reduce love to an emotion or a desire.  They make non-sensical statements like “love is love.”  Or they react like children who want candy from the check-out line and say that if we really loved them, we would let them do whatever they wanted.  But that’s not how St. Paul describes love.  Love doesn’t seek after itself.  If I do not display patience with another, I’m not loving that person.  If I’m only looking out for myself, I’m not loving.  If my desires are perverse and contrary to nature, I do not desire love.

    Recently, our Vice President mentioned a teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas: the ordo amoris or order of love.  He referenced it in regards to the ongoing immigration debate.  I’m going to side-step the immigration debate, and simply focus on the ordo amoris, which will hopefully help you decide how best to implement what is most loving.  If you want the actual and full treatment from St. Thomas Aquinas, you can go to the Summa Theologiae, the Second Part of the Second Part, Question 26.
    The general order of love is: God, self, neighbor.  We then further delineate neighbor into family, city, country, and world.  We should love God above all else.  We owe everything to God as our Creator, and the first commandment our Lord gives us is to love God with all of who we are (and He cites the Book of Deuteronomy).  The second law is that we should love our neighbor as ourself.  But to love our neighbor as ourself, we have to love ourself first.  Love of self can be sacrificed for a higher good, the love of God, as we see in martyrs, or in parents for their children, but we need to have a proper love of self.  Lastly, we love others after God and self, based upon how close they are to us.  Generally speaking, the closest to us are family members, then members of our community, then other people.
    If we follow this to its natural conclusion, it makes perfect sense.  If I didn’t believe that there are priorities in love, then I might skip Mass on Sundays to spend time with a friend playing basketball or drinking bourbon.  Or if I don’t have a hierarchy of loves, then when I give money to charitable contributions, I should give the same amount of money I spend on groceries each week to each of the following: my parish; my Diocese; my local food pantry; the homeless shelter; each religious order that exists; each food pantry that exists in the US; each homeless shelter that exists in the US; every orphanage around the world; every charity around the world; etc.  Of course, that would lead to poverty, and the family would lack necessary goods, to which they have a right, while others, who are not even known to us, would receive the same financial support.  

    The Holy Father rightly brings up the parable of the Good Samaritan as our Lord reminds us to care for our neighbors who are not like us.  The Samaritan had no family or even national connection to the man left for dead.  But the man on the brink of death was close to him, and the Samaritan could do something at that moment to help the man, without neglecting any of his other legitimate responsibilities.  The man was in immediate need of assistance, and so, even in the ordo amoris, the Samaritan, like the priest and the levite before him who failed, had a duty to assist as a way of expressing love.
    The Scriptures also challenge us to remember that love of God cannot fully be divorced from love of neighbor.  St. John writes in his first epistle: “whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.”  Love of God, strictly speaking, does outweigh love of neighbor.  I should be more concerned with what God thinks of me than what my friends or family think of me.  However, more often than not, we show God we love Him by loving the people He loves, that is, our neighbor.
    The argument of modern society is that we should love everyone equally.  To the extent that we generally will good for all people, that is true.  But we cannot, strictly speaking, actually love every single person on this planet equally, because we have closer ties with some than with others, and the resources by which we show our love are limited, even while love is not limited.  So we should order our loves, putting God above all else, then myself next, then my neighbor, and my neighbor starting with my family, then my friends, then my other communities both locally and internationally.  I also have to order my love so that I deal with what is in front of my face: the rich man had a duty to care for poor Lazarus because Lazarus was at his doorstep and needed the rich man’s help.  
    But we also have to understand what love is and what love is not.  Love is not just a feeling, or license to do whatever we or another want to do.  Love means willing the good, for ourselves and for others.  If we allow a person to do that which is harmful, or if we want to do something which is harmful, we are not loving.  
    We could do so many good things, or have so many spiritual gifts.  But love, willing the good of the other, has to undergird all of what we do.  Otherwise all of our good deeds and actions are worth nothing.  If we ever have a question about how love looks, then gaze at the crucifix.  Because that is the greatest example of love: to lay down one’s life for God and for neighbor.  If our actions connect us to the cross of Christ, then there is good chance that they are truly loving actions, and therefore join us to the God who is Love: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Charity and Knowledge

Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Though not celebrated today since it falls on a Sunday, today is the birthday of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  After Mass today, as part of your thanksgiving, maybe add a few Marian prayers like the Hail Mary, Memorare, Hail, Holy Queen, or even the Litany of Loretto to wish a happy birthday to our Blessed Mother, reigning in heaven alongside her Son.
    Our Blessed Mother is the perfect example of being rooted in charity and knowing the charity of Christ, as St. Paul wrote in our epistle today.  And St. Paul compares charity, divine love, with knowledge, saying that charity surpasses knowledge.  St. Paul says in his first epistle to the Corinthians that, “knowledge inflates with pride, but love builds up.”  
    As someone who loves learning, these words can be a challenge.  And, indeed, many have rightly put an emphasis on learning the truths of the faith, so that they can be shared.  God has given us the gift of reason to understand what He has revealed through His Church, both in the Scriptures and through Sacred Tradition.  To the extent that we can understand, and then share, those truths, we can.
    But entrance into heaven does not come from having a degree in theology.  Indeed, just because we know something about God doesn’t mean that we will get to heaven.  The pharisees in today’s Gospel knew God’s law very well, at least in its external practice.  But they didn’t understand the love which undergirded that law.  Satan, for his part, knows the truths of the faith, probably better than many of us.  St. James, in his epistle, writes, “You believe that God is one.  You do well.  Even the demons believe that and tremble.”  So, as helpful as knowledge is, it cannot substitute for love.
    For those who may not be so intellectually gifted, this should be a consolation.  Not everyone can study theology, but everyone can go to heaven.  One can love God deeply without being able to explain precisely the relationships between the Divine Persons of the Blessed Trinity.  And, as St. John of the Cross says, at the end of our life we will be judged, not on knowledge, but on our loves.

    Think about the Annunciation.  The Archangel Gabriel brought incredible news, that is, news that was hard to believe, that she would become the Mother of God.  First of all, Mary, though of the family of King David, had no royal training.  She was not part of palace life.  She was a young, humble virgin in a backwater town in a backwater province of the Roman Empire.  Further, and even more incredible, she was not married, so how could she conceive?  If the Virgin Mary had relied solely on her knowledge, she would have never said yes.  In fact, Zechariah, the husband of Mary’s cousin, Elizabeth, seems to have only relied on this knowledge when the same Archangel Gabriel appeared to him some six months earlier, and told him and that he and his wife, Elizabeth, would conceive a great prophet who would prepare people for God “in the spirit and power of Elijah.”  But Zechariah responded from his knowledge, saying, “‘How shall I know this?  For I am an old man and my wife is advanced in years.’”  For his lack of acceptance, his lack of love of God, Zechariah was struck mute until he affirmed Gabriel’s message that his son should be named John.
    The love of the Blessed Mother for God and her trust in His love for her allowed her not to doubt, but to wholeheartedly respond to the plan of God, “‘May it be done to me according to your word.’”  Love filled in the gap where knowledge left off.  
    Now, love is not contrary to reason, but sometimes flies above reason.  Think of a mother whose child is threatened.  While the mother may not be the strongest woman in the world, God help the person who comes between a mother and her child!  Her love gives her a reason beyond simple knowledge that can preserve life when reason would give up in the face of such danger and such odds.  
    And, as in the Gospel, love informs the law.  Yes, God gave the Sabbath as a day of rest, where no work could be done.  But even the rabbis had known that sometimes you have to respond to special situations that cannot wait beyond the Sabbath, so they allowed people to pull out their farm animals from harm, even on the day of rest.  But, because they did not love, the Pharisees could not see how healing the man fulfilled what God intended for the Sabbath: rest, freedom, and wholeness in God.  So healing a man on the Sabbath did not violate God’s commandment, but, in love fulfilled it.  The healing was not contrary to our understanding of the Sabbath rest, but flew beyond the mere outward expression of not doing work.
    This can even apply to some laws of the Church.  Perhaps the easiest example is Friday as a day of penance.  We should, all things being equal, do some sort of penitential act on every Friday.  Traditionally, this has meant that Catholics don’t eat meat.  But let’s say a friend had a dinner and did not observe abstinence from meat.  While our understanding of the law might suggest that we simply eat nothing and be a rude guest, love understands that, from time to time, on special occasions, we might not do as much penance as usual for legitimate reasons.  Friday weddings can often be times where we set aside our penitential practices for one meal, in order to rejoice in a new sacrament of God’s love.
    We cannot simply ignore the law and claim that we don’t have to follow it because of love.  Love often undergirds just laws.  But knowledge of the law, and our understanding of the faith, has to be supported by love, or else it is a clanging gong or a crashing symbol.  Today, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, may we grow in love of God and neighbor, and so be prepared for the eternal contemplation of love in heaven, where our Lord reigns, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Thanksgiving for Faith, Hope, and Charity

Resumed Sixth Sunday after Epiphany
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  This week our nation takes a break to celebrate Thanksgiving: a day of food, family, and football (and the Lions might even win this year!).  So how fitting is it that St. Paul, in the epistle today, begins with thanksgiving for the people of Thessaloniki.  According to one Scripture scholar, St. Paul gives thanks in all but four of his epistles: his second epistle to the Corinthians; his first epistle to St. Timothy; his epistle to St. Titus; and his epistle to the Galatians.  In particular, in this first epistle to the Thessalonians, St. Paul gives thanks for their “work of faith and labor of love and endurance in hope.”  In other words, St. Paul expresses gratitude for the three theological virtues active in their lives: faith, hope, and charity. 

    If Bishop Boyea, a successor of the Apostles himself, were to write a letter about us, what would that letter say?  What virtues would he praise in us that he has seen at work?  What would he have to say about our faith, our hope, and our charity?
    When it comes to faith, we can use the word ambivalently.  We sometimes mean the articles in which we should believe and we sometimes mean our trust in God.  In today’s epistle, St. Paul seems to highlight the former, as he talks about the people’s conversion away “from idols to serve the living and true God.”  And that aspect of faith is important.  Do we believe what God has revealed as true?  Not too long ago we took the Disciple Maker Index, and I have to say that our answers from the questions on beliefs of the Church were quite high.  So that’s good.  But one of the areas that we discovered we need to work at is sharing that faith that we hold so strongly with others. 
    Because our beliefs, the revelation of truth and happiness from the God who made us, is not only for our own benefit, and then we hide it under a bushel basket (to use a Gospel metaphor).  If we truly have charity, the love of God for others, then we want others to know the truth and happiness that we have found in following Christ and making His life our own.  The Gospel is not our possession to be buried in a field until the master’s return (to use another Gospel metaphor).  We are called to invest it and help it to multiply so that the Master receives a return on what He gave to us.
    The other aspect of faith is harder to quantify, but is no less important.  Do we trust in God?  And do we trust, not only when things are going well, but when they do not go the way we want them to?  Bl. Solanus Casey comes to mind in this regard.  He would say, “Thank God ahead of time.”  We can only do that if we trust in what God will give us to or allow us to experience. 

Bl. Solanus Casey

    I have been working on this with the replacement of our boiler.  We ordered our new boiler towards the end of May, and were told it could take 26 weeks of lead time, due to supply chain and employee issues.  I had hoped back then that we would get it before it got cold.  That, obviously, did not happen.  But, as the cold weather started to approach in October, I asked our Blessed Mother to watch over us and intercede for us to get our boiler sooner, or at least to keep our church at a temperature that we could still occupy it.  I tried to thank God ahead of time for taking care of us.  And I have not been disappointed; well, not totally.  I certainly wish we had our new boiler already.  But, as cold as it has gotten at night, our building has not dropped thus far below 57 degrees.  And we have had some nice, sunny 60 degree days interspersed which have also helped.  I choose to believe that our Blessed Mother has been keeping the church warm, despite cold outside temperatures.  I choose to have faith, even faith as small as a mustard seed, that everything will be alright, and our church, while not a toasty temperature, will stay warm enough where we can stay here until we get our new boiler.
    Very much connected to that trust is hope.  St. Paul describes hope as the confidence in receiving that which is, as yet, not seen.  Hope helps us to persevere towards the fulfillment of Christ’s promises to us, though we do not experience them in their fullness right now.  Heaven and the fullness of new life in Christ is our ultimate hope.  Hope helps us to keep going, even though it seems like heaven and the life Christ desires for us is so far away, or even when what Christ promises seems impossible.  Living the virtue of hope especially helps us when somethings or everything seems to be working against what we desire.
    Many bemoan the state of the Church these days.  Many have wandered away from the Church to do what they consider worship on their couches in front of a screen; or to attend ecclesial communities whose music is more adapted to their secular tastes; or simply to stop living according to the teachings of Christ altogether because they seem so antiquated.  We have had our own struggles with the Extraordinary Form restrictions, though, for the most part, we have not had to endure many restrictions outside of the sacrament of Confirmation.  Even within those who profess to be Catholic, many are confused or sow confusion and try to change teachings that cannot be changed.  So the Church seems attacked from without and even from within.  But in the midst of all of this, we keep our eyes on Christ and his promises that the gates of hell will not prevail against the Church, nor will death and sin have the final say, because Christ has already conquered sin and death.  Hope gives us the ability to cling to Christ throughout whatever storms arise, knowing that if we stay with Him and His Church, we will arrive in safe harbors at the appointed time.
    Lastly, charity.  When many hear the word charity, they think of going beyond the norm to give to someone in need.  But the theological virtue of charity animates us to love with the love of God, at least as close as we can on this side of heaven.  Charity, a specific form of love, helps us to give God our best out of devotion to Him, and to care for those for whom God cares, especially the poor, widows, and orphans.  The love which is charity draws us out from ourselves and wills the good of the other.  We love because God first loved us.  And God’s love for us didn’t come because we deserved it, but as a generous gift to those who were totally unworthy of love. 
    And that love was sealed with the sacrifice of Christ, which is re-presented for us today in an unbloody manner in the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.  Charity, the love of God, means sacrificing ourselves for the other, just as Christ sacrificed Himself for us.  And the more we share in the fruit of that sacrificial love, the more we share in the result of that sacrificial love, which is the resurrection and pure joy with God in heaven.  Love, especially sacrificial love, doesn’t always feel good, but it always brings about good, because when we love others we are sharing God, and God is Goodness itself, just as He is Love itself. 
    There are many ways that we can sacrifice for the other.  This can be in our own families, and letting them get their way rather than our own (as long as it is not harmful for them).  It can be in the work we do for the poor and the needy, especially as holidays approach.  I think we’re all paying more for just about everything.  For those who don’t have more to spend because of unemployment or underemployment, can we help them to still have a good Thanksgiving or a good Christmas by our generosity?  I say generosity, but it’s really just good stewardship, because every good thing is a gift from God, and we’re merely passing on those gifts that God has shared with us.
    Today I give thanks for you, my beloved children in Christ.  I am truly blessed and humbled to be your pastor.  Throughout my time here I have been inspired by your faith, by your hope, and by your love.  We are not done in growing in these virtues, but we have a good foundation in Christ for our future.  May God continue to inspire your “work of faith and labor of love and endurance in hope of our Lord Jesus Christ,” who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen.  

Encountering the Risen Christ

Third Sunday of Easter
    The question on a lot of people’s minds these days is: what is life going to be like after the Stay at Home order?  Even with financial assistance, some businesses have shut their doors for good.  Will people ever shake hands again, or stand close to each other?  What will next school year be like for the students who have not been in a school building since 14 April?  Will people go back to church in larger numbers?
    What will make the difference?  Is there a magic bullet that will bring back everyone to church and have them practicing their faith?  Is there something that a person can do that will make it more likely to attend Mass and practice the entirety of the faith, rather than simply falling away after this time of not having public access to the sacraments?
    What made the difference in the Apostles and the disciples?  What was it that these generally uneducated men, and made them the greatest group of missionaries in the history of Christianity?  What was it that made the disciples cling to their faith in Jesus even as the government tortured and put them to death in very gruesome ways?
    The difference was that they knew Jesus.  They had encountered Jesus in their life, and they were open to the Lord changing them through that encounter.  Sometimes that encounter happened in marvelous ways, like when Jesus told Peter to put out into the deep, even though Peter had caught nothing after an entire night of fishing; like when Jesus simply looked at Matthew and said, “Follow me.”  Sometimes that encounter happened through curiosity and wanting to find out more, like so many who heard about this itinerant rabbi who was not only teaching with authority, but also healing people.  But they knew Jesus. 
    Knowing Jesus is different than simply being around Him.  Think of the Bread of Life discourse in John, chapter six.  The people there were around Jesus, they even saw Him multiply bread and fish for thousands of people.  And yet, when the teaching got tough, most of them did not stay with Jesus, but walked away.  Think about the crowds who were caught up in welcoming Jesus as He entered into Jerusalem the week of His Passion.  They cheered Him on and waved palm branches.  And yet, this same crowd, five days later, clamored for his crucifixion.  Even most of those who did know Him, the Apostles, were not there when Jesus died.  But then, we heard Peter proclaim in our first reading that Jesus is truly the Messiah, the one chosen by God.  Even after a failure, Peter could practice his faith because He knew Jesus and knew He was risen.
    The disciples on the road to Emmaus had been around Jesus, but it took Jesus Himself opening up the Old Testament and breaking bread for them to recognize Jesus.  But once they did, they were ready to tell others that Jesus was risen.  Their encounter with the Lord, though started in ignorance, ended with a new way of life for those two disciples.
    So for us, have we encountered Jesus?  If we have, then we can survive any tribulation and suffering.  Where do we encounter Jesus?  In the Word of God, the Scriptures.  I would encourage everyone to find a good Bible study and read the Scriptures.  It is through them that we encounter Jesus.  I pray with the Scriptures, like every priest, bishop, and consecrated man or woman, 4 times per day, and I can’t tell you how often I’m reading a psalm or a passage, and I just know that God is speaking to me through it.
    We encounter God in the Sacraments, in the 7 ways that God does great work to make us saints.  While many only happen once, I think of especially the Sacrament of Penance, where we encounter God in His mercy and forgiveness.  Maybe not always, but often the words of counsel that the priest gives me before I make my Act of Contrition, touches my heart and I realize I am in the presence of God. 
    We encounter God in the love and charity that we show to another.  Especially in these trying times, I think that we recognize God through people going out of their way to be loving and charitable to each other, rather than the nastiness to which we have become so accustomed.  As “Les Miserables” says, “To love another person is to see the face of God.”
    And last, and greatest, we encounter God in the Mass.  Of course, this isn’t as possible now as before.  As good as it is that I can live-stream this Mass for you, it’s not the same, and it’s not the way the Mass is supposed to be.  You, the People of God, are meant to be here, uniting your sacrifices with the bread and the wine, offered to God the Father in the one, perfect sacrifice of Jesus on the cross.  Presence is important.  The disciples on the road to Emmaus finally recognized Jesus in the Eucharist.  And in the Eucharist, we not only encounter God, but God enters into us in a most intimate way.  If we’re not encountering God in the Mass, then we have lacked something that we should be doing, because God is always making Himself present to us in the Mass, and it reminds us that maybe we’re holding back.
    There are other ways to encounter God, but these are four great ones.  And if we have encountered God, before, and hopefully during, this pandemic, then we’ll pick up right were we left off in our faith life.  We will come to worship God; we will share the good news of the Resurrection and the new life that Jesus offers us through Him and only Him; we will let the love of God flow through us like a current of electricity that lights up every one with whom we come in contact.  But that will only happen if we have encountered God.  Think about it: when was the last time you encountered God? 

Remember the Poor

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
    When it comes to preaching homilies, in seminary we were jokingly (but also a little seriously) told two keys: the 5 Bs and KISS.  The 5 Bs are: Be brief, boy, be brief; KISS stands for Keep It Simple, Stupid (Stupid being directed at the preacher).  I don’t know how brief I’ll be, but I can keep it pretty simple today.
    The readings today focus us on serving “outsiders.”  By outsiders I mean those about whom we heard in the first reading–the hungry, oppressed, homeless–but also anyone who is poor or marginalized.  As followers of Jesus, it is not enough to simply believe the right things (though that is important).  How we live, and how we treat others is also key.  We might say that those are the two parts of the greatest law (Love of God as right belief and right worship, and Love of Neighbor as right actions and morality). 
    This call by Jesus to change the way we treat others is part of what Jesus meant in the Gospel, that we are to be the “salt of the earth” and the “light of the world.”  By following Jesus, and living according to His way of life, we are to preserve what is good in society, and enlighten the parts of the world that are darkened by sin.  By being salt and light, we glorify our heavenly Father.
    St. John Chrysostom, one of the saints depicted in our icons, put it this way:

If you cannot remember everything, instead of everything, I beg you, remember this without fail, that not to share our own wealth with the poor is theft from the poor and deprivation of their means of life; we do not possess our own wealth but theirs.  If we have this attitude, we will certainly offer our money; and by nourishing Christ in poverty here and laying up great profit hereafter, we will be able to attain the good things which are to come, by the grace and kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ…

Chrysostom means golden-mouthed, and though it might not seem so golden, he is certainly right.  As followers of Jesus, as Catholics, we have an obligation to the poor and marginalized, to help them as much as we can.  “Not,” as St. Paul says, “that others should have relief while you are burdened, but that as a matter of equality your surplus at the present time should supply their needs.” 
    Some would suggest that we don’t need to help the poor, because that’s what our taxes supply.  And certainly, there are some ways that the government can help in ways that individuals cannot.  It would be very difficult, if not impossible, to provide public housing based on personal generosity.  It would be very difficult, if not impossible, to take care of basic health needs for people who have no real means of income, without some sort of larger program.  But it is also true that a perennial teaching of Catholic social morality is that individuals or smaller entities that can provide for a need should be allowed to, and only when individuals or the smaller entities cannot should a larger entity or government step in (we call this subsidiarity).
    I should also be clear that St. John Chrysostom is not advocating a wholesale redistribution of wealth.  We hear that a lot from politicians who openly proclaim themselves as socialists.  It is as if a political party can decide to become Robin Hood, and steal from the rich to give to the poor.  But the Church does not advocate socialism, or for people to deputize themselves to decide how much people need, and take the rest from them by force.  Private property and wealth are acceptable, as long as one realizes that the “outsiders” have a right to our assistance for anything beyond what we need for basic living.  Jesus reminds us of this fact in Matthew 25, when he says that we will be judged on how we treated the hungry, thirsty, naked, ill, and those in prison. 
    What that looks like for each person is different.  I can’t give you a dollar amount, or even a percentage, for how much you should be giving to those in need.  The number 10% is tossed around, as the idea of a Biblical tithe, and to the extent that you're able, I would encourage sharing 10% between your parish, maybe Catholic Charities and a few other charities, and having some available as you encounter the poor in your day to day life.  Catholic usually give less than 1% to their parish.  Maybe it’s time for you to consider giving 2% to St. Pius X.  Maybe you can give more.  Maybe you can’t give 2%.  Whatever it is, you’ll know what you can and can’t give, whether to your parish, to charities, and to individuals.
    But remember that, as followers of Jesus, we have a responsibility to the “outsiders.”  As we encounter the daily poor, we can decide best whether they are truly in need, or whether, sadly, they are trying to scam us.  We can decide what charities use the money best for the poor, and areas of our city, State, country, and world that we feel particularly drawn to support.  But the key is that we are committed to helping others to the extent that we are honestly able.  I’ll end here with one more quote from St. John Chrysostom:

Do you want to honor Christ’s body?  Then do not scorn him in his nakedness, nor honor him here in the church with silken garments while neglecting him outside where he is cold and naked.  For He who said: “This is my body,” and made it so by his words, also said: “You saw me hungry and did not feed me, and inasmuch as you did not do it for one of these, the least of my brothers, you did not do it for me.”