Summoned

There is a very conservative lady in this parish who belongs to very conservative Catholic women’s movement. Priests in the past have let this women and her associates basically run this parish. Sometimes this has also meant these women bully the priest, and others, until they get what they want.

They’ve been trying to do this to me, especially of late. I was fiercely berated for not consulting them on the colour of the new carpet after the fire in the church! As if they’re the sole source of wisdom!!!

Well, just lately this particular women has really been throwing her weight around. Her husband is dying of cancer. Everybody knows this, but nobody is supposed to know (so we all pretend nothing is happening—especially this woman and her husband). Last week she upset a couple of parishioners when she called them on the telephone and acted as though she was the Grand Inquisitor from Hell, interrogating them about some items that appear to be missing from our parish hall. Now, this organisation she belongs to don’t even own the items, so it was really none of her business. She also overstepped the mark by the way she treated these people (not for the first time). So after Mass last Saturday night (after I’d had an earful from the two agrieved women) I called Madame Inquisitor and said that I knew her life wasn’t full of happiness at the moment, but that that didn’t mean she could make the lives of others miserable. I proceeded to tell her that I’d had complaints about her behaviour. She asked me who had complained, but before I could reply, she went on to tell me that she had a right to know what was happening in the parish. I told her that neither she nor hew organisation had the right to be consulted on everything that happens in the parish, to which she told me that she wasn’t going to put up with me “barking” at her, after which she promptly hung up.

Today I received a call from the bishop telling me he’d received a letter from this woman’s son (who doesn’t live in the parish) complaining about my phone call and calling for my immediate dismissal. So next Monday (my day off, and after all that’s been happening with Ethan’s funeral and all the busyness of this time of year generally, I was looking forward to a day of rest) I have to drive one and a half hours to see the bishop to explain what happened.

In thw words of Peter Finch in “Network”: I’m as mad as hell!