Sadness and Fear

We still don't really know why he did it. But he did, and apparently he was a person who hated everything we stand for. That was enough to trigger a moment not only of sadness and prayer for the people directly involved, but also of fear for ourselves. I'm sure Manchester, New Hampshire, is not the only conservative place with a Unitarian Universalist Church, so my thoughts and prayers go out to my sisters and brothers in those other places, places where it's not inconceivable that some gun toting, disgruntled desperado could choose killing us as a form of self expression.

Our congregation's history includes an episode of terrible vandalism, a crime never solved, when the whole interior of the church was systematically trashed. Was it a hate crime? No one knows, but for the people who were there, it sure felt like it. Personal histories of our members include hateful encounters-- people who were fired from jobs because of their sexual orientation, people who were threatened, even actually attacked, for traveling in the company of someone of the same gender. My own history stretches back in time and across the miles to my childhood in Northern Virginia where my parents were threatened for being "n-er lovers" and all kinds of liberals were referred to as "communists", a time when I learned to be very cautious about expressing my views.

The tree of fear has real roots, and this event has watered them with blood. Let us use it as an opportunity to remember the bad old days and to notice the badness of today, sure, but let us also use this as a time to resolve again that our views have importance in the world, importance that is worth a calculated risk. These risks need to be acknowledged. But let us reflect on them and use those reflections develop the courage we need to stand for what is right in ways that can reach out effectively to our surrounding communities.