From “The Private Diary of Bishop F. Atticus McButterpants” – 24-02-08

Febuary 8th, 2024

Dear Diary,

Upcoming series of FCMH one each week for the next few weeks. Several hours of boredom punctuated by a few moments of sheer terror. They gave me the reports and the materials ahead of time. It makes your eyes glaze over, but one thing caught my attention: officially we have somewhere around an estimated 200,000 Catholics in the diocese. They tell me that maybe only 15 to 17 percent practice or show up regularly on Sundays. I think it’s more than that, but hey – they are the numbers guys.

Even if it’s more like 20% routinely attending and paying that’s only about 40K who are regulars. And if that’s true, it almost makes the math easy even for me! If we have 40K Catholics in the pews on Sundays diocese wide, and they each throw a dollar in the basket that’s 40K per week, times 52 Sundays and some Holy Days. But that’s only….2 million.  And we cancelled or move Holy Days to Sundays!  Not very helpful.

If they drop in two bucks, that’s only 4 mil.

I remember my old pastor back when they rolled out the $2 bill.  He thought that was going to be the salvation of the church.

Dang. This is really scary. What the heck happened to tyething? Did they throw that out with all the Latin and lace? No wonder I gotta spend a fortune on my development office.

We are also facing another big payout because of a priest that Feel The Byrne brought in years ago from – where? Not one of our guys from India, though that was Byrne’s preference when he was hard up to fill a parish slot (“gotta buy another Indian this year!”). The ‘Oly Ghost Msgr Geist [the Judicial Vicar or JV – editor] is rumored to be showing up for this one. Actually have not seen him face to face since I dunno when.

One of the money guys used the dreaded word “shortfall.” This was so stressful to think about that I called Dozer and basically invited myself over Super Bowl weekend. It’s been darn cold out but Dozer’s got that heated pool he keeps going all year. I just stroll out through the covered patio and do a “short fall” into the pool. Aaaaah.

I hate worrying about money. When I went over to the synagogue for Katie’s wedding last year to that nice Jewish boy, I looked around and that place was sparkling and had all the latest tech. I asked Fr. Tommy at the nosh to find out stuff. He talked to the twinkly old rabbi. Turns out they don’t do a collection. They just figure out how much it costs to keep the whole thing running, divide that up by the number of registered congregation members, and send everyone a bill for their share! Why can’t we do that? Don’t some Protestant churches do that too?

I gotta keep Chester in biscuits! And the shockingly pricey vet.

Gotta be careful with that word, even writing it.  Cuz you can’t say The V Word or Chester will turn into a tamzanian devil Tommy tried saying “the Roman numeral five, first letter for your title in Latin, and what looks like a Cross.” It took me ages to figure what the heck he was talking about.  Then I got it.  Chester figured it out faster than I did.  It didn’t work out that well.

Check with Mrs. Kennedy about the “Super Flumina” prayer group. I’m invited to do an event with them, mostly young people, I think. Sounds “super”! Looking forward to it.  I hope it isn’t this weekend.  Dozer is stocking up.  Check Sr. Randi for minding Chester.  I’ll owe her big time, but I’ve gotta get outa here and Chester and Dozer, well.

Editor’s Note: +F. Atticus’ (“Fatty’s”) loathsome and somewhat deformed dog Chester once bit his friend Bp. Antuninu “Dozer” Rupse of Pie Town in the inside of the thigh, rather high up, requiring a humiliating visit to the ER and the ministrations of thick-forearmed nurse who had a lot of questions.

We are glad to see that mole has returned from the family emergency or whatever it was.  Can’t be too careful right now.  His Excellency is on edge.  Especially with rumors about his neighbor the Archbishop, John “Jack” Daniels.