“My son can’t make the Confirmation retreat because of a lacrosse tournament.”
I was a little confused, but mostly annoyed. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard this excuse, and I thought maybe I could change their mind. So I said, “Oh, that’s unfortunate. This is the only retreat we offer, but I’m sure your son will play in other ones over the summer. After all, this is faith—and that matters to you all, right?”
As a parent today, if someone said that to me, I’d probably lose it. But thankfully, this parent was full of grace. He responded calmly, “Faith does matter a lot. But this is a showcase, there are college scouts, and our child has a real shot at a scholarship.”
I almost pushed back—he was only a freshman, after all—but then I remembered a conversation with a friend about how early college recruiting starts. I realized I wasn’t going to win this one.
I softened. “Okay, I understand. We’ll figure out an alternative.”
The parent was grateful. After the call, I hung up and muttered under my breath, “F**ing lacrosse.”*
No one heard me. But even if they did, what I was really upset about wasn’t the sport—it was the helplessness I felt watching someone choose something else over faith.
It would take me years to realize that the problem wasn’t the parent, the teen, or the tournament.
The problem was that I had a fixed idea of how faith should be prioritized—and when others didn’t follow that script, I took it personally.
THE REAL PROBLEM ISN’T SPORTS—IT’S OUR STRATEGY
In ministry, it’s tempting to frame sports as the enemy.
They take families away from Sunday programs, retreats, and sacramental prep. They become the scapegoat for low attendance or lack of commitment.
But here's what I’ve learned: sports aren’t the problem. They’re a mission field.
Some leaders try to compete with sports. Others try to guilt parents into choosing church. But that never works.
If anything, it hardens hearts. I know because I tried it.
Instead, what if we stopped asking, “Why don’t they prioritize faith like we do?”
And started asking, “How can we meet them in the world they’re already navigating?”
WHAT SPORTS REVEAL THAT THE CHURCH SHOULD PAY ATTENTION TO
Sports aren’t just about the game. They work because the purpose is clear: the more time a team spends together, the better their chances of winning. That clarity drives the practices, the communication, and the energy everyone brings to the table.
And that clarity leads to belonging—not just for players, but for parents too.
Time together builds trust. Most youth teams meet multiple times a week. That consistency creates rhythm and connection—for players learning the game, and for parents forming real relationships on the sidelines.
Parents get to witness the journey. Even if we’re not coaching, we see our kids grow—how they handle setbacks, how they develop discipline, how they improve. That’s one of the joys of parenting: watching effort become transformation.
Everyone has a role. Even if your kid doesn’t play much, they’re still on the team. They get a number, a jersey, and a spot at the banquet. Parents get to cheer, bring snacks, wear the team gear. You feel part of something bigger.
Faith has a deeper purpose than sports—but unlike sports, we rarely communicate that purpose clearly, consistently, or collaboratively.
And when there’s no clarity, no rhythm, and no shared sense of mission, people drift. Not because they don’t care—but because they don’t feel connected.
Isn’t that what we want for our young people?
IT’S TIME TO STOP COMPETING—AND START ENGAGING
I don’t say this to make anyone feel bad. I say this because I’ve been that annoyed youth minister. And now, I’m also the parent juggling sports and sacraments.
Back in October 2024, research showed that the average parish spends 2–10% of its budget on youth ministry. That’s not a strategy—it’s a signal.
Meanwhile, families are spending thousands on sports because of the belonging, opportunity, and clarity it offers.
And while youth sports participation is beginning to decline, the Church won’t automatically fill that space unless we shift how we show up.
What would happen if we stopped framing faith formation in opposition to real life?
What would happen if we trained small group leaders to have sideline conversations?
What if parishes blessed athletes before their season?
Or offered “make-up” Confirmation options that weren’t punishment for being busy—but intentional opportunities to reconnect?
If I could go back to that conversation, I wouldn’t lead with disappointment or guilt. If I could start over I hope I’d say, “Thanks for letting me know. Let’s find another way for your son to encounter Christ.”
Because honestly, that’s our job.
We don’t control families’ schedules. But we can control how we respond.
And when we stop blaming sports and start showing up, we might just discover that the real field of mission isn’t inside the church building—it’s wherever people already are.
What’s one thing youth sports do well that you wish the Church would learn from?