Looking down the road, seeing the future

It would appear that five of the Supremes are favoring an absolute right to possess any weaponry whatsoever by whoever has the cash, and to bear arms without restriction in schools, churches, shopping centers, aboard airliners, in the courtroom itself, that a right is a right, period. And when the Executive Quintet opens those doors, we’ll see dramatic changes here in the land of the free and home of the brazen, such as the man police apprehended carrying a gun near Justice Kavanaugh’s home last week, with intent to do harm.

We have 400 million guns now and when we get up to a billion, there will be more men with guns than police can apprehend, and it’s safe to say that no parent will send children to school, even one with armed guards. Law enforcement has been overwhelmed in many cities, including Minneapolis, where police have begun to privatize themselves and hire out as freelance security. Education, I suppose, will move online. Millions of people will become consultants and work out of their homes; manufacturing will all go to China. The closing of schools will likely mean the end of interscholastic sports except fencing, sharpshooting, and bowling, which may be useful for self-defense.

Guns will be sold online and delivered by armored truck. When the number of guns hits two billion, gunfire will be as common as rainfall except constant, day and night.

Republicans will own most of the weapons and Democrats, as we know, can’t shoot straight. And Republicans will amend the Second Amendment to abridge the gun rights of trans people, critical race theory people, Planned Parenthood supporters, ACLU members, Unitarian Universalists, and undocumented immigrants except those engaged as farm or slaughterhouse workers. Jews will still have gun rights but they won’t enjoy those rights, they never did enjoy them, and so Jews may head for Canada, which means a sharp decline in philanthropy. Colleges and orchestras will suffer, opera companies will go under.

I must admit that none of this affects me particularly since I live in a 12th-floor apartment and I keep the shades drawn. It would take an awfully lucky shot to get me.

What troubles me is my Episcopal church. These are urbane Anglophiles, and so they’re not going to carry rifles on Sunday, lest they be mistaken for Baptists. And no pistols since we are Episcopalians, not Epistolarians. My people will try to protect themselves by high-minded pacifism and will come to church wearing only a breechcloth to show that they’re unarmed, and also to show solidarity with indigenous people. I, however, intend to come to church fully armed and carrying a ballistic shield. My problem is that our church is likely to draw a great many Presbyterians and Methodists trying to escape their armed co-believers, and I would not feel comfortable among Christians opposed to same-sex marriage and the ordination of women. Our rector is a woman and if Methodists came in and wrecked her ministry, we would be (pardon my French) up Merde River.

Yes, I could attend church by Zoom, but it’s not the same. Church is a place of deep emotion for me. I don’t cry at movies, but I do cry at church. The line from the psalm, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” (Some people believe “rod” refers to a firearm but I doubt it.) I weep at the promise of resurrection. I go to pieces when we sing the hymn “I Am the Bread of Life” and I see old Episcopalians, men in pinstripe suits and bow ties and wingtip shoes, raising their hands up like Pentecostals when we sing, “And I will raise them up in the last day.” A few weeks ago we sang, “Shall we gather at the river where bright angels’ feet have trod” and my voice broke, I couldn’t sing. You miss out on this when you watch on Zoom, the sense of fellow feeling with other believers.

I am willing to kill in defense of my right to feel emotional fellowship. Shoot if you must, you SOB, but not during prayer or hymnody or when the Holy Word is read, or you’ll go down in a hail of lead. Go shoot some horned or furry mammalian, don’t come after this Episcopalian. Even as I sing God’s praises, you’ll go down as my six-gun blazes. I’m a Christian but I carry heat: next stop for you is the Judgment Seat.

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