It always comes down to money.

Many believe 30 pieces of silver was the price for which Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus, according to an account in the Gospel of Matthew.Panther Valley faithful say they're getting a very real dose of that betrayal-type feeling, coming from the very institution through which they pledge their faith.In late April, they learned St. Francis of Assisi Church in Nesquehoning and St. Katharine Drexel in Lansford will be combined with St. Joseph Parish, Summit Hill.On top of that, the Diocese of Allentown also decided that Our Lady of the Angels Academy in Lansford must close.These most recent closures are icing on a cake that leaves a bad taste in the mouths of many who've supported the church their entire lives.A few years ago, the diocese consolidated St. Stanislaus Church, Summit Hill, with St. Joseph Church; merged St. John the Baptist, St. Mary and SS. Cyril and Methodius churches, Coaldale, and St. Michael, St. Ann and SS. Peter and Paul churches, Lansford, into St. Katharine Drexel. The diocese also merged Immaculate Conception, Sacred Heart and Our Lady of Mount Carmel churches, Nesquehoning, into St. Francis of Assisi.These churches weren't built by the diocese. They were built by the sweat of hardworking miners toiling underground in unimaginable working conditions.In fact, the Lansford Historical Society just came across a 1903 letter from the Lehigh Coal and Navigation Company, Lansford Mining Department, sent to a lawyer in Pottsville. It states they've agreed to make collections on their payrolls of contributions for the Roman Catholic Church, Lansford.That church, St. Michael's, cost $150,000 to build in 1908, paid by poor miners making pennies a day. This is in stark contrast to the wealth of the church.Truth is, the Roman Catholic Church owns priceless art, land, gold and investments across the globe, making it one of the wealthiest institutions on the face of the planet.In the hardworking, blue-collar Panther Valley, parishioners feel the diocese is slapping the face of their fathers and grandfathers. These men struggled so that coal region families would have the stability and comfort of a neighborhood house of worship.And now the parishioners find themselves losing their houses of worship. Worse yet, they're powerless, perhaps nothing but pawns in a game played at their expense."The local parishioners who raised the funds, who did the work, have no ownership in the church and no say in the church," says disgruntled parent Steve Behun.Behun wants parishioners to voice their displeasure in a tangible way. He's asking church members to donate their weekly offering to a different Catholic charity, one outside of the Allentown Diocese.One thing is certain, Panther Valley residents are sick and tired of having their heritage insulted.At a meeting Wednesday, some said they wrote to the Bishop of Allentown pleading for a dialogue, but have been ignored. The church isn't hearing their pleas and won't acknowledge the local crisis. The diocese is deaf, they say.They took their fight to Masses this weekend. All things considered, Behun might be on to something with his idea of withholding church offerings. It's a strategy with lots of merit.Money might be the root of all evil, but it's a language the church understands.By Donald R. Serfass |

dserfass@tnonline.com