Subject: FW: mathew sheperd sermon (fwd)
From: Mia H H Lam <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 09:09:06 -1000

---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Mon, 19 Oct 1998 08:33:11 -1000
From: Manoa Task Force on Sexual Orientation <[email-masked]>
To: Task Force on Sexual Orientation <[email-masked]>
Newsgroups: uhawaii.tfso
Subject: FW: mathew sheperd sermon (fwd)

*******************
 This is from a Rev. Charleston to the whole Trinity College community. 

                           Chaplain's Reflection 

        I saw on the news today that Matthew Shepard died. He was the 22
year old man from Wyoming who was beaten and tortured and left to die for
no reason other than he was a homosexual. This tragic murder has raised a
national debate again, the kind of periodic soul-searching our society
goes through whenever a crime of hate startles us into awareness. The
burning of Black churches, the bombing of innocent people, the death of a
shy young man from Wyoming: these events suddenly shake us out of
complacency and remind us that fear, prejudice and rage are always the
shadows just beyond the light of our reason. And so people suddenly start
to speak out. There are voices of outrage and grief. Voices of sorrow and
demands to know why such a thing could happen. And predictibly, there are
also defensive voices: the governor of Wyoming trying to explain why his
state has no laws to protect people from hate crimes and the leadership of
what is called the Christian "right wing" trying to explain why their
national ads against homosexuality don't influence people to commit such
violence against gays and lesbians.  In the days to come, these many
voices will fill our media and the cultural consciousness it imprints
until we are once again lulled into the more familiar patterns of our
lives, dozing off as a nation until the next tragedy rings the alarm of
despair. 
        As the chaplain for our own community, I would like to invite us
all to consider Matthew's death in another way. Not through the clamour or
denials, not through the shouts or cries of anger: but rather, through the
silence of his death, the silence of that young man hanging on his cross
of pain alone in the emptiness of a Wyoming night, the silence that
ultimately killed him as surely as the beatings he endured. 
        Silence killed Matthew Shepard.. The silence of Christians who
know that our scriptures on homosexuality are few and murky in
interpretation and far outweighed by the words of a savior whose only
comment on human relationships was to call us to never judge but only to
love. The silence of well meaning educated people who pretend to have an
enlightened view of homosexuality while quietly tolerating the abuse of
gays and lesbians in their own communities. The silence of our elected
officials who have the authority to make changes but prefer to count
votes. The silence of the majority of "straight" Americans who shift
uncomfortably when confronted by the thought that gays and lesbians may be
no different from themselves, save for the fact that they are walking
targets for bigotry, disrespect, cheap humor, and apparently, of murder. 
        Crimes of hate may live in shouts of rage, but they are born in
silence. Here at Trinity, I hope we will all listen to that silence.
Before we jump to decry Matthew's senseless death or before we seek to
rationalize it with loud disclaimers: I hope we will just hear the
silence. A young man's heart has ceased to beat. Hear the silence of that
awful truth. It is the silence of death. It is the silence that descends
on us like a shroud. At Trinity, as in Wyoming, we are men and women
surrounded by the silence of our own fear. Our fear of those who are
different. Our fear of being identified with the scapegoat. Our fear of
taking an unpopular position for the sake of those who can not stand
alone. Our fear of social and religious change. Our fear comes in many
forms but it always comes silently. A whispered joke. A glance to look
away from the truth. A quick shake of the head to deny any complicity in
the pain of others. These silent acts of our own fear of homosexuality are
acted out on this campus every day just as they are acted out every day in
Wyoming. Through silence, we give ourselves permission to practice what we
pretend to abhor. With silence, we condemn scores of our neighbors to live
in the shadows of hate. In silence, we observe the suffering of any group
of people who have been declared expendable by our society. 
        As a person of faith, I will listen, as we all will, to the many
voices which will eulogize Matthew Shepard. I will carry that part of our
national shame on my shoulders. But I will also listen to the silence
which speaks much more eloquently still to the truth behind his death. I
will listen and I will remember. And I will renew my resolve never to
allow this silence to have the last word. Not for Matthew. Not for gay men
or lesbian women. Not for any person in our society of any color or
condition who has been singled out for persecution. Not in my church. Not
in my nation. Not in Wyoming. And not at Trinity College. 

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Forwarded by
Brooks G Bays Jr
  UH Manoa Task Force on Sexual Orientation
  SOEST Illustrations/Graphics