FREEDOM OF SPEECH = DOUBLE EDGED SWORD

I was reading in Yahoo! News today about a man called Albert Snyder. Mr. Snyder lost his son Matthew Snyder when he died on a Humvee accident in Iraq almost four years ago. Matt was 20 years old.

During his son's funeral the ever lovely Westboro Baptist Church showed up to protest against gays, and Jews and pretty much everybody else on God’s green earth with signs that read “God Hates America” “Thank God for Dead Soldiers” “You are going to Hell” “Semper Fags” and other enlightened messages like those.

Mr. Snyder can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he suffers from depression since his son’s death (which is understandable) and is battling diabetes. He is angry and hurt and humiliated and probably wishing his son’s funeral would’ve been a dignified event for him to say goodbye without having all that bad juju thrown his way.

Mr. Snyder decided to sue the Westboro Baptist Church and was granted 10.9 million dollars that were after reduced to 5 million by another judge and then another judge reversed the verdict and he is now ordered to pay roughly $17,000 to Westboro for the legal fees they incurred. It doesn't seem right, does it?

According to Westboro Baptist Church, America is condemned, doomed to hell and being punished by its acceptance of what they call in their website “fag lifestyle”. After taking a gander at the Westboro website (and feeling right after like I had to take a bath on bleach or holy water) I realized just how difficult the law is. The first amendment of the constitution of this country established freedom of speech, freedom of press, freedom of religion and freedom for people to peacefully assemble, etc.

The amendment is a beautiful thing; not only respects my ideas and opinions no matter how unpopular they might be but it also protects my rights to voice them.

Poor Mr. Snyder had to see hate first hand and at a moment of crippling vulnerability. No father should have to bury his son and it made his tragedy even worse to see people gleefully holding signs that celebrated his death and the death of all those other soldiers out there who have lost their life in this war.

Even though Mr. Snyder is now without his son and grieving, and even though my heart breaks at the thought of him seeing those signs, the law states freedom of speech for all. Is it moral for those people to be there and mock his pain? No, and I am sure there are special places in whatever hell those fuck-heads believe in for people just like them. It is right for them to feel the entitlement of invading such a private moment and ruin it with their hateful, putrid beliefs? No, it isn’t.

Is it legal? Yes, it is.

Freedom of speech is defined as the right to speak without censorship and/or limitation, the right to speak or otherwise communicate one’s opinion without fear of harm or prosecution. It applies to all individuals in this country, it covers all opinions, and it defends all ideas.

Those who read this blog know how passionately against religion I am and how passionately for gay rights I am. So it is with a heavy heart that I recognize that Mr. Snyder is going to lose that lawsuit against Westboro.

The law should protect all: sick, hateful, disgusting, crazy individuals too. Even when their moral compass is up their asses, even when their beliefs are repulsive, even when they don’t respect the most private of moments, even when they have no understanding of the meaning of compassion their opinions also have to be respected.

The fact is that the loathsome crew from Westboro peacefully assembled to spew their venom. Mr. Snyder actually didn’t even notice they were there but until later when he saw his son’s funeral on the news. The law should protect Westboro because vile and abhorrent as they are they didn’t break any laws.

My only consolation and I hope for Mr. Snyder’s too is that the legacy of Fred Phelps founder of Westboro Church (won’t do the Baptist a disservice by affiliating them with him) seems to be on his last legs. I don't know if he is healthy or not, but a body can’t hold that much hatred and venom and continue working properly. The man is 81 years old already! Even if his progeny were to continue his work he is the heart of the operation and without him I hope it will dwindle to nothing.

I found Pastor Jim Sommerville’s blog while researching for this post; Pastor Summerville had an encounter of sorts with darling Fred one time when he and his band of roaches went to Richmond Virginia to harass its Jewish community.

Pastor Sommerville is a more evolved creature than I am and he decided to pray for the soul of Fred (what soul?) and for him to find love and let go of the hatred that, to quote Pastor Jim “has made him its disciple”.

I don’t have it in me to wish for Fred’s salvation. I don’t have it in me to pray for his rotten soul. If I was the praying kind I would pray for Mr. Snyder’s battered soul and broken heart. I would pray for his family and the families of all those who Westboro has touched with its grimy paws.

I would pray for Mr. Snyder to feel some consolation after the suit is over even when it probably won’t conclude as he hopes. If I were the praying kind those are the ones I would pray for, I wouldn’t waste a word on Fred.

Actually Fred can go to hell.

For Pastor Jim Sommerville’s post: http://jimsomerville.wordpress.com/2010/03/03/how-do-i-stop-my-enemies/

For the Yahoo! Article: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_funeral_protests

NOVENAS, ANOTHER HISPANIC MYSTERY

After three years together and almost one year of wedded bliss, Dear Husband thought he had seen it all, the parties, the talking too loud, the drama, the dancing and the weird food (morcilla, cow’s stomach, tongue, etc).

Little did he know that there was still more to come. To be honest I thought also there were no more cultural differences to be introduced to him, no more shocking family secrets, or customs I had to explain. I hadn’t taken into account, however, the ever expanding gap between his religion and mine.

Now, neither Dear Husband, nor I are religious. He was raised under the very strict codes of the Assemblies of God (whatever that is) and I was raised very leniently under Catholic dogma. That said however, our views of religion are utterly different.

I knew when I was little that not everybody was Catholic. That there were other religions out there that did not include partaking in communion, rosary praying or even Jesus for that matter. But I never saw my Catholic rites as something mysterious, hard to understand and almost mystical.

After Alfonso’s Death last Sunday my mom (a practicing Catholic) decided to offer his soul a Novena. For those of you who aren’t Catholic and didn’t grow up as I did partaking in endless rituals, a Novena means “Ninth” and is nine days of offered prayers. Usually they are done during Christmas time and others when there is a death and the friends and family offer nine consecutive days or nights of praying rosaries for the soul of the deceased to help him or her find the light towards his/her maker.

I have prayed many, and I mean MANY rosaries in my life. One cannot go through five years of Catholic School education without praying some rosaries. Again for those unfamiliar a rosary is a chain of praying beads that one follows bead by bead with “Our Father” several “Hail Mary” and a “Glory be the Father”. There are five “mysteries” in a rosary (Don’t ask me why they call them mysteries) but it simply means five sets of praying per rosary with one “Our Father” ten “Hail Mary” and one “Glory be the Father” per set.

Obviously the ritual is very repetitive but I always found oddly soothing. There is something about saying the same words over and over again with a group of people that eases something inside. Dear Husband, since he has never partaken in a rosary praying was agog at our “chanting” and my sister’s Patty’s husband (another American) was also utterly confused.

At the end of the first night of praying and on our way home, DH asked me what exactly the purpose of a rosary was. I tried to explain that it was a sort of guide to the soul for the afterlife and he didn’t seem to understand why our praying would make a difference over the direction of Alfonso’s soul since he, according to Catholic beliefs, would be judged by his actions in life and a meeting of friends and family should hardly make a difference to God. Now, DH was raised to believe that if you believe in Christ then you are immediately saved. So according to what he has been taught, Alfonso’s actions in life or our praying for nine days wouldn’t make a difference since Alfonso was a believer in Christ and therefore, good to go. I tried, my best, to explain that Catholics believe that believing in Christ sometimes is not enough to be saved and the things you do (the good and bad) in life are what will determine your soul’s destination after death. I tried to explain the relatives left behind during the Novena, act as advocates of his soul, showing God that even after death we cared for Alfonso and the prayers work as a statement, almost like a witness or lawyer, of what we think of Alfonso’s soul’s worthiness.

Then we shot off to talk about Purgatory and why Baptism is important and why in the world we have to confess our sins to a priest and all those other Catholic rituals that make sense to no one else but us who learned it.

In the end it doesn’t really matter since neither of us truly gives a damn about each other’s religion. It is not a point in common or a point against us in our relationship. It doesn’t matter to me which religion he practices if he did and he doesn’t care either if I want to be Catholic, Wiccan or pray to the God of Shoes.

I am, as baffled by his culture as he is by mine. I don’t understand ANY of the religious stuff his family practices. He teases me about molesting priests and I tease about his religion’s snake handling.

I guess no matter how long we are married there will be plenty of things for us to explain to each other and for that I am grateful, we will never run out of things to talk about.