If SEC stadiums are the top settings for #ItMightMeanTooMuch stories, churches across the southeast are a close second.

I’ve referenced plenty of church-related stories here this year. From a Tuscaloosa church that had the words “Seek Ye The First Kingdom of God Then Beat Auburn” to the Louisiana pastor who preached about targeting after the Devin White suspension, it’s no secret that SEC football and religion have some crossover.

One Oxford pastor might have gone a bit too far with that. It’s one thing to be an Oxford pastor with a reference in a sermon about Ole Miss football. You can drop all the comparisons you want and get many an “Amen!”

“Archie Manning rallied the troops like Jesus rounded up disciples.”

“Patrick Willis was like Goliath and opposing offenses were like David.”

“Hugh Freeze sinned like …”

OK, I’ll leave that last one alone. Too soon.

You get the picture, though. Know your audience. It’s public speaking 101.

Apparently a new preacher in Oxford missed that day of class. Instead of making an Ole Miss comparison in his sermon, he went back to his Knoxville roots:

There are so many moving parts when a preacher drops a line like that.

First of all, what was the reaction like? As in, can a preacher be booed? Or even better, were there gasps from the church-goers?

In my head, I’m picturing all of those things. In all likelihood, it was probably just some surprised people whose reaction was muddled by a soft chuckle from a preacher who thought he just made a relatable reference. I wonder what the pastor’s thought process was.

“Oh, I know what will make this new community welcome me with open arms. I’ll show off my football knowledge by talking about another SEC school’s tradition!” In hindsight, the more topical reference was probably something to the extent of “and then they flocked to Bethlehem to see the birth of Mary’s son, Jesus, much like Ole Miss fans flock to The Grove on a fall Saturday.”

Even then, he’s blurring those lines. But at the very least, nobody is walking out after he says that.

Oh, and speaking of that, there’s the second part of that tweet from Ellis Metz, who was so offended by the Tennessee reference that he felt compelled to take his child and walk out.

I don’t want to assume anything about someone, but I’d venture a guess that Metz is indeed an Ole Miss fan. Perhaps he’s even like Leigh Ann Touhy, who refuses to wear “that gaudy orange.” Again, assuming is not my goal here.

IT’S TO GET EVERY DETAIL POSSIBLE.

Like, what was that conversation like for Metz and his child after they left? I imagine it went a little something like this.

“Daddy, why did we leave church?”

“I will not subject you to that kind of nonsense.”

“What do you mean? Why is Tennessee running through the Power T not like the birth of Jesus?”

“Listen, kiddo. There’s not enough time in the world to explain that. Let’s just say the team that hasn’t won double-digit games in over a decade and had the nation’s No. 112 rushing offense is NOTHING like the birth of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ.”

I don’t know what the conversation was like with Metz’s child, but thanks to a follow-up tweet, we did find out that apparently he and his mother-in-law had some disagreement about his silent protest of the sermon.

It’s unclear which football coach he’s referencing (I’m assuming Jeremy Pruitt?), but the fact that a Chick-fil-A punishment was involved with this has this whole story in the running for “most SEC thing I’ve ever heard.”

Wait a minute. It wouldn’t be SEC unless there was some more hostility spewed from an opposing fan base. Not like, poisoning trees-level of hostility. Just some good ole-fashioned internet trolling.

Of course Metz’s viral tweet was seen by some unhappy Tennessee fans:

Real quick though, imagine a world in which someone with the Twitter handle “@vols_all” had the all-important decision of deciding all of our afterlife fates. Regardless of what you believe, you have to admit that would be a super entertaining/scary way to decide things. You’d have refs fixing games for Tennessee, every blue-chip recruit in America signing to play in Knoxville, boosters and random people on the street tithing to fund the best facilities money could buy and even more people would be willing to wear “that gaudy orange.”

Actually, come to think of it, maybe that pastor is living in that world.