Orlando Massacre Hits Close to Home

Some time soon, I may write about how the horrendous massacre in Orlando, Florida is affecting the presidential race: candidates’ responses, faith leaders’ statements, etc. Right now is not that time.

Here’s a compilation of Christian leaders’ reactions.

I grew up in Kissimmee, Florida, a town about 15 miles south of Orlando. I also lived there for four years in my mid-20s. I have family members and many friends there in all walks of life.

No one close to me was killed at the Pulse nightclub on South Orange Avenue. But my heart breaks for my hometown, and especially of course for all the people who are mourning loved ones after this chilling tragedy.

More and more friends are reporting that their loved ones were killed or injured at Pulse.

My heart goes out to everyone in The City Beautiful. I have many friends there among the reverend clergy whose always-difficult jobs will be nearly impossible in the days to come: The counseling, the funerals, the questions. “Why did this happen, pastor?”

My sister was relieved to report that none of her friends were among the dead or injured. My mother’s close friend waited anxiously to hear from a son who frequents Pulse. Mercifully, he was not there last night. My Facebook timeline is filled with people in shock that something like this could happen in their town. Others are sharing very personal reactions — things you just cannot feel as acutely when this happens somewhere far away and is mediated to you through TV.

It’s hard to imagine what my gay friends are going through. Some thought the time had passed when they would have to go to funeral after funeral. After so many died of AIDS, there was a hope that others would not die en masse again. Some lived through the pain, fear, alienation, and often addiction that comes along with keeping your identity secret for so many years. Now many live openly, with pride. Just as they started to feel some safety and acceptance, terror strikes. I can’t imagine.

Yes, the Orlando massacre may produce some compelling headlines that someone like me will be asked to comment on. But I have no interest just now. Normally, my grief for the victims’ families is accompanied by strong opinions about gun laws, access to mental health services, etc. This time, my family and I just heartbroken for our people, our town, our home.

Though I write and think a lot about religion, I do not always go to church. This morning, I found my way to a Catholic parish near my home. These lines from the Eucharistic Prayer seemed even more beautiful and meaningful than usual.

“Remember our brothers and sisters who have fallen asleep in the hope of the Resurrection and all who have died in your mercy. Welcome them into the light of your face.”

Churches and church people have pretty strong opinions about people who are in gay clubs at 2 am. Saint, sinner, “state of grace,” “mortal sin,” whatever. The truth is, we do not know who dies in God’s mercy. Maybe everyone does. Maybe no one does. We do not know who he welcomes into the light of his face.

This devastating massacre brings together many cultural flash points because of the victims’ identities, the killer’s background, the kind of weapon used, and the horrifying scale of the tragedy. Emotions are charged. Rhetoric will be ugly. Don’t degrade yourself. We will all fail one some level. But let’s try, please, to be more virtuous individuals and a better society.

Get with the people you love. Hold ‘em close. While you can.