Wrong Response
I go to church for many reasons, most of which I won't go into here in this forum. The only problem is, I haven't been that happy with the church we go to. I don't find the congregation all that friendly, and they aren't that welcoming to the families who don't send their children to school there. And the sports program? Don't get me started on that. The year the girls participated in the sports program was one of the most revealing years of all.
You might wonder why we bother to go to that particular church in the first place, right? Well, I'm lazy. And it's in our neighborhood. Which means if I really had to, I could leave my house at 7:55 a.m. to get to the 8 a.m. mass.
Which is where we were this morning. Sitting in the pew, participating in the rituals of the mass, and listening to the voice of Fr. N. He's not my favorite priest: he tends to subscribe to the more you say the better method, and we all know that's not true. So there I was, wondering when he'd be done with his lengthy sermon (remember, we're Catholic and anything over ten minutes is pretty long) when he stepped into it big time.
He was speaking about a basketball player, and how the player had missed a layup. "Everyone knows that layups should not be missed, right?" Father said. "We expect that from a women's team," he continued, "but not a men's." Is that right? Is that what he said? I'm pretty sure that's almost exactly what he spewed, but to be honest, my irritation began to fester and my blood started to boil. So maybe I messed up his words a little, but not by much.
A few members of the congregation groaned, but not nearly enough of them, in my opinion. I almost walked out, but gave Father the respect he should get for being up there, preaching. I thought for sure he might apologize. He did not. I turned to Tim and said, "That's not even funny," because Fr. N is known for trying to make jokes.
But alas, this was no joke. And I thought to myself, He can't possibly get away with saying something like that, if someone calls him out. So I decided to do so. At the doorway of the church, where Father stood shaking hands after church, I went up to him. I told him he shouldn't have said what he said and that he was wrong. His response? "No one should miss layups."
Really? I almost launched into a diatribe on basketball and if he'd ever played the sport and whether or not he even knew how difficult or easy it is to make a layup. I thought if I got going with that direction of thought, THEN, I could turn on him and tell him that he completely missed my point and that his comment was sexist and downright inappropriate. But then, I looked at him. And I mean, really looked at him.
And he was laughing. He had no idea at all that his comments were offensive and he probably never would. I can't remember how I ended the conversation, but I shook my head as I walked away.
I'm done with Father N. I'm done with that church. I'm finding myself a new home.
You might wonder why we bother to go to that particular church in the first place, right? Well, I'm lazy. And it's in our neighborhood. Which means if I really had to, I could leave my house at 7:55 a.m. to get to the 8 a.m. mass.
Which is where we were this morning. Sitting in the pew, participating in the rituals of the mass, and listening to the voice of Fr. N. He's not my favorite priest: he tends to subscribe to the more you say the better method, and we all know that's not true. So there I was, wondering when he'd be done with his lengthy sermon (remember, we're Catholic and anything over ten minutes is pretty long) when he stepped into it big time.
He was speaking about a basketball player, and how the player had missed a layup. "Everyone knows that layups should not be missed, right?" Father said. "We expect that from a women's team," he continued, "but not a men's." Is that right? Is that what he said? I'm pretty sure that's almost exactly what he spewed, but to be honest, my irritation began to fester and my blood started to boil. So maybe I messed up his words a little, but not by much.
A few members of the congregation groaned, but not nearly enough of them, in my opinion. I almost walked out, but gave Father the respect he should get for being up there, preaching. I thought for sure he might apologize. He did not. I turned to Tim and said, "That's not even funny," because Fr. N is known for trying to make jokes.
But alas, this was no joke. And I thought to myself, He can't possibly get away with saying something like that, if someone calls him out. So I decided to do so. At the doorway of the church, where Father stood shaking hands after church, I went up to him. I told him he shouldn't have said what he said and that he was wrong. His response? "No one should miss layups."
Really? I almost launched into a diatribe on basketball and if he'd ever played the sport and whether or not he even knew how difficult or easy it is to make a layup. I thought if I got going with that direction of thought, THEN, I could turn on him and tell him that he completely missed my point and that his comment was sexist and downright inappropriate. But then, I looked at him. And I mean, really looked at him.
And he was laughing. He had no idea at all that his comments were offensive and he probably never would. I can't remember how I ended the conversation, but I shook my head as I walked away.
I'm done with Father N. I'm done with that church. I'm finding myself a new home.
Comments