How Orlando Has Made Me Hope to Be More Hateful

I work with this lovely man who also works as a priest for a progressive sect of the Catholic Church.  This sect is all-inclusive toward homosexuals.  They perform homosexual marriages, and the priest himself is, in fact, gay. 

A local university was hosting an interfaith candlelight vigil for the victims of the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando.  They asked him to speak along with several other ecclesiastical leaders including two Muslims, a Mormon leader, the president of the Jewish coalition, and a priest from the Roman Catholic Church whom my friend knew all too well. 

"The Roman Catholic Church doesn't accept homosexuality or allow gay marriages," he informed me.  "I can't believe they would ask him!  I've spent years counseling, nurturing, and seeing all the pain of the people he has cast out and refused to help!"

I had never seen my friend like this before.  He wasn't shouting, but he was livid.  He was so emotional he couldn't focus on anything else.  It really brought him down.  He was sullen and on edge the rest of the day.

He sat there, upset, repeating how he couldn't believe they invited him.  After all the years the Roman Catholic Church (and, in particular, this priest they had invited) spent shunning the gay community...  Now to have him show up for a night of remembrance and offer shallow support and hollow prayers...

"I don't think I can go," my friend said.  "I don't think I can stand to be there with him."

"Isn't the whole point of this vigil--and the Pulse aftermath in general--to love and accept one another even when we don't understand someone's choices and/or disagree with their lifestyle?"

"Yes.  And, I know you're right...  And, I know it's just my own baggage...  But, I was raised Roman Catholic.  And being in that environment for so long…  And now seeing how they treat the LGBT community...  And, all the hurt and suffering it causes...  It just...  It makes me SO UPSET." 

And so the cycle continues.

Amid vigils of solidarity, hashtags of love, and profile pictures of support, the cycle continues.  Hate and anger live on. 

Except, when the hate is fashionable…no one really notices. 

What happened in Orlando was noticed.  When a man with a vendetta (we're assuming against homosexuals for religious and/or cultural reasons) shoots 100 people in a nightclub...it's noticeable.  People are hurt and angered by this act to say the least. 

Gays blame conservatives for not being more accepting.  Conservatives blame Muslim extremists.  Muslims blame Americans.  And the circle never ends.  

What I have observed about humans is that it's easier to place blame than accept responsibility, it's easier to recognize the behavior of others than it is to recognize our own, and it's always easier to be on a side that's popular, or feels strongly supported. 

Not just easier.  Easy.  As easy as breathing.  In fact, it comes so naturally that it just happens; undetected and unnoticed.

When an attack happens, the natural response is to push back.  To oppose the opposer.  To retaliate.  We hurt--intensely--and we need an outlet to direct our overwhelming feelings. 

Like rainwater, our feelings will follow the path of least resistance.  And, the easiest route is toward whatever we view as the source: person(s), religions, teachers, elected officials, et al. 

The pendulum can only swing so far in the opposite direction, however, before it becomes the same position, just reversed, i.e., the lovers become haters, and the hater becomes hated.  We're often so concerned with maintaining the distance between us and them (keeping our eyes ever present on the target), that we fail to look down and notice where our feet have taken us.

When people hear the phrase hate breeds hate, they usually think of it coming down a hereditary line: a father teaches his son, who passes it on to his son, and so on, and so on.  Thus, people who have renounced the hate of their fathers tend to prize themselves as loving and exempt. 

But, hate isn't always filtered down.  Sometimes hate is Big Banged into existence.

An event that leaves 50 people dead and another 50 hospitalized is so cataclysmic it becomes a social bomb.  Just as an explosion sends debris flying away from the combustion, so too does a socially singed event. 

Socially, we are blown away from the source, i.e., we scatter in the opposite direction: we become an ally rather than a foe; we feel compassion rather than malice; we feel sadness rather than anger; we feel helpless rather than extremist.  And--what we get--is Facebook fallout: harmless, carcinogenic, ashy snowflakes floating their way into our newsfeed. 

However, there is no push without shove, no joy without sorrow, and no love without hate.  For every action there is an opposite and equal reaction.  Often our best intentions are not far off from our worst nightmares.

In the wake of the Orlando attack, here are some quotes I've read:

"If this picture/video of two men kissing disturbs you, then unfriend me right now."

·      Sounds like the opposite of the acceptance the LGBT community seeks.  

"To all my friends who 'claim' to be Christian but have not reached out to me after the shooting in Orlando...you should be ashamed of yourself."

·      Doesn't sound like the empathy and compassion with which the LGBT community wishes to be regarded.  

"Westboro Baptist Church is coming to protest at the funerals of the Pulse shooting victims.  Orlando businesses--DO NOT SERVE THEM.  Boycott the Westboro Baptist Church.  Close your doors and do not allow them in." 

·      Sounds a lot like the Freedom of Religion bills causing major upheaval in select states.

"Florida Governor, Rick Scott, who has repeatedly turned his back on the LGBT community has invited himself to speak at the Lake Eola vigil tonight.  When he speaks, turn your back to him."

·      Doesn't sound like the respect, understanding, or open mind the LGBT community wishes would receive their voice.

My own friend and coworker--a man of the cloth himself--unable to attend an interfaith vigil due to his inability to accept another's faith. 

And this represents only a small spoken fraction of the anger, hurt, and hate I know is simmering unsaid.

Granted, my friend’s hurt and anger (as well as all others quoted above) stem from the great love he has for the LGBT community.  Anti-LGBT is the hate du jour (remember how a hate bomb sends us all in the opposite direction when it explodes?).  We feel justified in this hate because we have a formidable current event to attach it to.  And, that's the thing...

Hate is fashionable.  Love is fashionable.  Here today, gone tomorrow.

 

Yesterday we hated communists.  Today we love the gays.  Tomorrow...who knows? 

But, one thing I do know is love and hate cannot be separated.  They live hand in hand.  Always have, always will.  Therefore, wherever one goes...so goes the other.  Each act of love is an act of hate, and each act of hate is an act of love.  It just depends which side you're on.

Recognizing the duality and understanding the harmony of love and hate is essential for bringing peace.  Even so, as both are fashionable, each person may choose which to wear: love or hate.  And--make no mistake--the decision reflects heavily how one will be viewed. 

Personally, I wish to drape myself in so much love I'll be the most hateful man around town.  Spreading hate wherever I go.  Hate of suffering, hate of depression, hate of complacency... 

And my primo, most potent hate of all, is the way I hate how much you don't like yourself.  Yes, I am aware of it.  Yes, I am passing it on.  And, yes.  I do hope this hate will trickle down to you.