Jesus Liked The Children; The Guy Didn't

A friend of mine was in church last week, with his wife and three children – one of them just two years old. The youngest was a bit itchy that day and, despite the parents’ best efforts, fussed during the first part of Mass. This particular parish did not have a crying room (which they didn’t have when I was a kid, either).

So the readings are going on, the priest is delivering the homily and the two-year-old is fussing. Not a good scene for devoted and devout parents.

But a worse scene for someone who wants to put his own devotion before that of the ordinary, sometimes stressed, but observant parents.

“He comes in the pew behind us and puts his hand on her shoulder and says something to the effect that this is a church not a playground. Notice that he bypassed me and went right for the woman (that coward). I give him a dirty stare and tell him we are trying our hardest and he finally leaves, but not after saying ‘Well, you should try harder.’

“We decide we have to leave after the sermon. Before leaving I go downstairs and find the man. I told him that he upset my wife so much that we had to leave, that he ought to be glad that we bring our kids to church, and that he ought to mind his own damn business. I don’t really regret getting angry and hollering at him.

“I know in the long run he’ll stay an asshole, I didn’t want him to just get away with it.”