Monday, June 13, 2016
A youngish man, a neighbor, was in church today. He describes his family background as an almost cartoonish representation of the diversity of the USA: the son of a Persian Muslim father and a Polish Catholic mother, he looks gay. As he says, in the summer, he tans deeply and gets called racist names on the street. He embodies so much, it's crazy-making.
In the wake of the massacre in Orlando, he could barely stop crying. He's frightened. He lives with not knowing which of his identities might get him killed.
Folks in our little parish understand this all too easily. Many are survivors of the AIDS epidemic; they've watched their friends drop and wonder why they are still here. Sometimes they still gather to dance.
None of us can know which of our identities might get us killed at any given moment, though being white and older sure reduces risk in this country.
No private individual needs a military assault-type weapon. Those things are built to kill; they are not toys and no one needs to play with them. If we have to repeal the 2nd Amendment, so be it.
We don't need politicians making it worse. You know who I'm talking about. In these times, we need to take care of each other, not posture and pretend to build walls.