Father Moe ran the youth group I attended when I was sixteen years old. I only went to youth group to have sex with my girlfriend. She came up with the plan. We told our parents we wanted to go to the Catholic Youth Group. Our parents were, of course, delighted. I mean, they really were. They took turns driving us to the weekly meeting.
We told our parents that the meeting started at 6 PM on Wednesdays. It really started at 7PM. My girlfriend knew of an empty house near the church. Her mom worked in Real Estate, or something. We would go to the house and crawl through a window and fuck for an hour before church.
No one ever caught on. Especially not Father Moe. Not surprising, since he was drunk most of the time: beer and rum. And he chain smoked, looked at the ground a lot. And he was always angry. And he was always angry with me. I asked too many questions.
Because God said so, Charlie!
I get that, Father Moe, GOD doesn’t want me to have sex before I’m married. I just want to know why he doesn’t want that. Does he give any reasons? Does God know of some terrible fate that will befall humankind if everyone has premarital sex? And if he knows, why not just tell us? Why not just say, “Listen, my people, premarital sex is the cause of Republicanism?! Stop it!” And we would. We’re rational people. I know I would stop having premarital sex if it would get rid of Reagan.
My girlfriend squeezed my hand. In my ranting, I had just admitted to Father Moe that we were indeed having premarital sex. I know I would stop having premarital sex if… Fuck, I’m such an asshole. Here comes the preach.
Young man, the Lord Jesus Christ said…
Yes, I know, Father Moe, I’m a sinner. OoooOOooo. Whatever.
Hey, I was a teenager. My girlfriend was hot. I was getting laid. Father Moe didn’t scare me. I was indestructible.
And while we’re on the topic, Father, how can you tell us not to use condoms with AIDS in the world?
It was the late 1980s; the world was really freaked out about AIDS. I had just used three condoms with my girlfriend an hour ago. I did so because my parents, and my teachers, and my media had told me that if I didn’t use a condom I would surely die. And now this celibate asshole was telling me to ignore all that information because God said so? I found that unacceptable, so I goaded him.
Birth control is a SIN, Young Man! Father Moe was slurring.
But why is it a sin, Father?
He relaxed into his chair. He knew the answer to this one. His tone went professorial. He crossed his legs and gestured with his one hand.
You see, if the Lord intends you to impregnate a woman, it is a mortal sin for you to block his will with a man-made device.
I laughed out loud. I had the stupid fucker now.
So, let me make sure I get this straight, Moe. You’re telling me that God – almighty, all-powerful, omnipotent creator of everything — if that being wants my girlfriend pregnant, all I, the mere mortal sinner, need to BLOCK the WILL of GOD is a condom? I can stop God’s power with a condom? Is that what you’re telling me?
Silence. The Father was stunned.
I have to ask you, Moe, why aren’t you worshipping the condoms?
Moe reacted the way any drunk reacts when cornered. He threatened to “put me through a fucking wall,” and then he threw me out of the church. But he said one last thing, as I laughed out the door, and it’s been a guiding light in my life. ever since. Father Moe said this:
You are no fucking Catholic, you snotty asshole!
Amen, Father Moe. Amen!
And as always, there’s more to the story…