Matthew Shepard
Perhaps he doesn't take rejection well enough.
Perhaps he's afraid of AIDS. Perhaps...
Ah, Martin always finds excuses in being the
way he is. He hasn't fallen in love all his life, he has reached
the point when he couldn't sleep if someone laid beside him on his bed.
He itches, he tosses, he feels the room too warm, no matter how low he'd
turn the thermostat on. There are many things in this world one gets used
to - and perhaps this is how nuns and monks and hermits must feel - isolation
and mourning can turn lovely once it lingers too long. You get used to
prayers, to silence, to reading, to being sick alone, to getting healed
alone, to dreaming alone - afraid of sharing your life because it's
been too boxed, too secured, too simplified. Martin's life has turned into
this pathetic way.
It's never been this way...When Martin was
young, he wished to be at the forefront of things, he also coveted fame,
power, money. And yes, love. He wanted to fall in love the way his father
did.
This was how his father proposed marriage
to his mother: He offered her not a ring but a lei of everlasting
flowers, which, accordingly were a symbol of his everlasting love. His
father serenaded his mother with No Other Love song. His mother was swept
and together they producd seven children and fourteen grandchildren. Now
in their late sixties, they still look at each other with sparkles in their
eyes.
Martin wanted to grow old like his parents
- two people, products of the soil, barely educated, poor most of
their lives, yet managing a full life, surrounded by the simple things
they love - each other, their children, their grandchildren
When Martin comes face to face with his parents,
asking him how he'd been doing, he is suddenly overpowered by supreme sorrow.
Martin, the product of his parents' great love, is mourning for the death
of the same in his heart. How is that possible? How could a child of love
and great romance become devoid of love?
Because he was born gay.
"I'm great Father. I'm getting in there, Mother,"
he answers. Getting into what? Getting to experience the kind of
love they so enjoyed all their lives?
Not in his lifetime!
Ah, how long will Martin sing this refrain
before the world?
As long as a gay man is considered incapable
of loving the one he loves, Martin will never find love.
He comes to me today with anger in his heart
- "How could man do this heinous crime to his fellow man?" he asked. He
is referring to the death of Matthew Shepard in Wyoming.
Matthew Shepard is a 21 year old gay college
student murdered brutally by two homophobes Aaron McKinney, 22 and Russel
Henderson, 21.
The mere act of luring a gay man to his death
is what really angers Martin.
"How hard is it for a homophobe to just let
things be? Even if a gay man flirts with him, how hard is it for him to
say no?"
This is one of those things Martin can never
understand. As I said, he was one of seven siblings, five boys and two
girls. All his life, he was surrounded by straight brothers, who, for the
life of him, were never disturbed whatsoever by his gay personality. They
commented about his difference but not one turned against him. Not a single
one felt threatened by his difference. They let him kiss their children,
they taught their children to treat him the way all their uncles and aunts
should be treated. Not one ever feared his/her children would turn out
like him. They come together as a family and they talk as a family. Martin's
gay lifestyle is never considered an issue.
Now here comes Martin who is full of
sorrow. He tells me, "Isn't it cruel enough to be relegated into a lifestyle
that is never allowed to demonstrate affection in public? What is so frightening
about gays that these cowboys would resort to murdering one?
"I wonder how they'd explain the killing to
the man and woman who conceived him? What would they say to the mother
who spent nine months of her life carrying Matthew in her womb? What would
they tell the brothers and sisters of Matthew who are probably as straight
as they are? And if they get married and have children of their own, and
one of their children turns out gay, and gets murdered by the likes
of them, how would they react? How would they feel if one day, they'd
end up in a society that considers them a threat, and they'd get lured
to their deaths, and they'd get hanged against a fence, in a cold, cold
night, their blood dripping, with not a single soul hearing their cries
for help? Even if that never happens to them, what if a brother, or a sister,
or a friend, or a countryman or a fellow human experiences that for nothing
more than a slight difference from the rest of society in which they are
all entitled to dwell?
"And most of all, how would they explain their
act to their own parents, their own brothers and sisters, their lovers
and friends? If I were a brother of either Aaron or Russel, I would probably
cry. I would cry because my own blood committed this heinous crime. I would
cry because from now on, my name would always be tainted by that murder,
forever etched in the history of my own family. I may probably choose not
to mention his name, never, never, ever, to my own children lest they'd
be filled with sorrow like I do. I would probably not choose to attend
their court proceedings because I don't want to hear how my own blood chose
to stoop lower than an animal that eats its own kind. And I would not want
to see our parents regret the love and passion that begat him in the first
place.
"And because of this murder, who can they
turn to? Who will stare at them with proud eyes except perhaps the likes
of them who are as murderous as they are. How can they turn to God
who was murdered Himself by the likes of them? How can they pray to Him
whose last breath was released in the midst of man's cruelty:
"At noon, the whole country was covered with
darkness, which lasted for three hours. At three o' clock, Jesus cried
out with a loud shout, "Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani," which means,
"My God, my God, why did you abandon me?" Mark 15
I immediately corrected Martin once he quoted
this Biblical passage. I didn't want him to magnify the Matthew Shepard
incidence into Biblical proportions. I said,
"This is the last cry of a dying man. Physically.
It is also the starting cry of a resurrecting man. Spiritually. For some
this is may be a cause for sorrow, yet for me, it's a cause for hope and
renewal. Here is a man who finally gave up on suffering and entered the
ultimate freedom.
"There is no reason why I should feel morose,
or why I should cry when Jesus terminated his suffering. "There is an end
to all our sufferings," is what He was trying to tell me.
"Why did you abandon me? is a not a question
about his isolation in dying. It is a question to humanity. It is the cry
of a man asking God, "Why did you let us become as evil as these men who
preferred to see me dead...or these soldiers who poked me with a
sponge of vinegar? Is this how low we turned into? Why does it seem You're
not here anymore?
"To Aaron and Russel, allow me to say this
- He is here, A Father watching, a Father who is probably as shocked as
His only Begotten Son by your act. He is here witnessing the disintegration
of humanity amidst all the pains caused by you.
"So Martin, instead of wallowing in sorrow,
I pray for humanity, "My God, my God, please don't abandon us."
"There were two good looking men who told me
they wanted to spend the night with me. I felt so lucky, very, very lucky.
Oh how many nights have I searched for this opportunity, no matter how
fleeting it is? Countless! Afterall, this is my only chance to experience
love. If only...ah...if only I could be as free as every straight person
to pursue and earn love, maybe, I would not turn this way - a young man
of twenty-one lurking in the dark, searching, being invited by strangers
into unknown places. Why are the other twenty-ones in my lifetime can get
to a bar, meet someone and fall in love without any fear, without any remorse?
Why do I feel, at twenty-one, as though I am an alien in my own planet?
If I could only be allowed to fall in love, and live with my love and build
a home for my love, I wouldn't be doing this. If only I could be allowed
to be open, and be tolerated for my openness, I wouldn't be accepting the
offer of these two young men. I would perhaps be in the company of my lover,
we would perhaps be studying together, planning our carreers together,
enjoying our lives together. Yet, I am young and I need love. I must go
with them...
"...A while ago, I was sitting between the
two men who invited me for the night. I did not anticipate they'd beat
me hard with a gun until I fell unconscious. Now I'm awakened by the coldness
of the night surrounding me and I'm too tired to lift myself off this fence.
I am naked. I am in the midlle of nowhere and I lost even my voice to scream
for help. My blood is pouring on the ground...Ah, I am just twenty-one...I
thought I'd live for many many decades more.
"...It's over now...I wish I said No to those
guys. I wish they said No to me..."
And because of this, Martin will remain in mourning, he is mourning
not only for the death of Matthew Shepard and the many other gays who suffered
similarly. He is mourning for his own death, how his life got lost since his
parents conceived him out of true love.
And I also understand where Matthew came from.
ihome