The Church of Malta’s connection with banking goes back several decades. APS was set up by a Jesuit priest way back in 1910, before its ownership was transferred to the Archdiocese of Malta in 1948. Following an Initial Public Offering in May 2022, the Church’s collective shareholding dropped to 70 per cent.

So, it is somewhat baffling to see critics – including clerics – queuing up to say that the Church should have no connection with banking, in light of reports that APS is interested in buying HSBC’s shareholding in Malta.

The critics insist the Church should not have a bank if it wants to follow Pope Francis’s vision of “a poor Church”.

This is ironic knowing that Pope Francis himself has not taken any steps to shut down or reduce shareholding in the Vatican Bank, not to mention the fact that he has also not sold off the Church’s riches.

That’s because when the pope speaks about being ‘poor’, he is referring to the spirit that often comes with being poor.

He speaks of a Church that embodies humility, simplicity, and solidarity with the marginalised and oppressed. He speaks about the need to be humble, to be grateful and open to listening. While it also means the Church should be free from attachment to money and worldly possessions, it should not exclude access to funding which drives its purpose.

The critics seem to imply that honest banking is impossible, that the sector is intrinsically immoral, and that any form of money-making is to be despised.

There is no doubt that people and institutions often become arrogant, self-absorbed and greedy when they make too much money. And history teaches us that when the Church was too rich it lost sight of its purpose. But that doesn’t mean making money is intrinsically wrong.

This argument likely stems from the fact that many employers treat third-country national workers like slaves, leading us to believe that running a business is inevitably abusive.

We have seen too many restaurateurs abuse their concessions. We have seen so many developers ruin natural and architectural beauty, that we have come to believe construction is inevitably criminal. That could explain why we have become so apprehensive of any business prospect.

If the critics are essentially advocating for a materially poor Church, does it mean it should sell everything and return to the catacombs? And even if the Church sells all its riches, who is going to help the poor when the money runs out?

How can a Church with no money be expected to run the institutions and the homes for the elderly? A Church needs the money to run schools, conduct research and educate a new generation of intellectuals and activists who call for change, speak out against corruption, bring forward policies and fight for social justice.

While the Church has many flaws, it is worth mentioning its various acts of charity. Suffice it to mention that the Archdiocese of Malta recently gifted Dar Saura in Rabat, valued at €25 million, to the Malta Trust Foundation.

The notion that a ‘poor Church’ must be devoid of financial resources to serve its mission is misguided – its wealth, when used ethically, enables it to empower and uplift the vulnerable.

Without any funding, the Church’s ability to serve the community would be severely limited, and those who rely on its support would be far poorer in every sense.

And in a world where poverty and inequality persist, a financially healthy Church plays an indispensable role.