Reports and updates from Orlando come across the media in a
mind-numbing cycle, they point to the level of dysfunction manifest in the
human family. Media feeds report the suffering, division, anger, hatred, fear,
bitterness, and violence swirling around the massacre at Orlando’s Pulse, a hub
for Orlando’s LGBTQ2SIA community. I am deeply grateful that I was with my
church community when I learned that this had taken place. That yet another manifestation
of intolerance and hatred had exploded in our midst.
The horror and devastation of this massacre aimed directly
at the queer community brings several things to the surface of my bleeding
Spirit. I am acutely aware that the reactions by various factions of society
will range from compassion to sanctimonious pronouncements that the violent
horror experienced last evening in Pulse, was the work of a vengeful God. Some
factions will attempt to pit against one another two vulnerable communities –
namely the queer community and the Muslim community. It is my deeply held hope
that voices of queer people of faith from all traditions, the voices of
coalitions working for unity, and the voices of interfaith activists, are the
voices we will hear and remember from
the horror of this time.
The queer community is terrorized every day. As we walk down
the street, engage with social media, and go about our daily routines. We
experience terror and know it intimately, we are targets of violence simply for
being exactly who we are, and having the bold authenticity to live our
identities openly in a dangerous and violent world. We are oppressed and
terrorized for having the audacity to exist - exactly as the people we were
created to be.
Living through times of devastation, it is easy to become
jaded, to be cynical and to believe that we as human beings are just built for
conflict, that turning upon one another - is just what we do. Woven into the
fabric of the human family, are threads of conflict, strife, anger, hatred, and
fear. There are two ways to respond to that reality - either by
"perfecting" our ability to armour ourselves and strike back - or by
doing the very hard work of creating spaces where we can hold the difficult and
necessary conversations that must take place to dismantle the dynamics of
hate-driven violence.
I believe that our common connection to the Divine - is
imbedded in the very core of who we are. We can be wildly inclusive and work
boldly together, I have the privilege of being involved in work of that very
nature. I believe we must be vulnerable, and find ways in which, we can risk
our grief stricken, cracked wide-open hearts to the possibility of reconciliation
and wholeness that only lovingkindness can achieve.
As we grieve, as we hold one another with tears, broken
hearts, and trembling spirits, do we have the fierceness - in this moment of
vulnerability - to lift the gaze of our streaming eyes to look at one another,
to reach out our shaking hands, grief stricken hearts, and bleeding spirits to span the gulf
that separates us from one another?
Will we ever break free from the cycle of violence? When we look into the eyes of our fellow humans - who will we see? Will we
ever experience the transformational love that is possible by looking into the
eyes of those who differ from us along lines of race, gender, culture, sex,
faith, sexual orientation, etc. - and seeing
the face of God?
