Father O’Malley was walking down the street one sunny afternoon when he noticed young Timothy, a local parishioner, sitting on the curb looking absolutely dejected.
“What’s the matter, Timothy?” the priest asked, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“It’s my ethics, Father,” Timothy sighed. “I’m having a real crisis of conscience. Last Sunday, when the collection plate came around, I… I didn’t have any money. But I saw a $20 bill sticking out of the pile, and I took it.”
Father O’Malley gasped, “Timothy! That is a grave sin! Stealing from the House of the Lord? Why on earth would you do such a thing?”
“Well, Father,” Timothy whispered, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “I needed the money to go to the local brothel.”
The priest’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “The brothel?! Timothy, this is worse than I thought! You stole from the Almighty to pay for the sins of the flesh! This is a spiritual catastrophe! Tell me… what did you do when you got there?”
Timothy looked down at his shoes. “I couldn’t do it, Father. I felt so guilty about the money that I just sat in the lobby and talked to the girl for an hour.”
Father O’Malley let out a massive sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Oh, thank heavens,” the priest muttered. “So you’re saying the $20 is still in circulation?”
