Practice and Preaching

In looking through the lessons for this Sunday, I was particularly drawn to the passage from Ephesians.  It's message seems clear enough:  to live and love as Christ commanded us to do requires us not to hang on to bitterness.  It's right there on the page.  Paul says,

Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice,  and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.

This reading captured my attention because of the recent practice my spiritual director has put to me.  I have been in a bit of a thrashing position as of late because of what I will call the accident of geography.  I live in Florida, specifically Tallahassee.  Our fair city, therefore, is part of the diocese of Florida.  This in and of itself is not a bad thing.  But when you add the layer of information that I am an out-lesbian Episcopalian, there is a tension.  Ours is a diocese that voted against the resolution authorizing same-sex blessings.  We knew that was our bishop's position before he went to General Convention.  We also knew from the letter that he sent to the churches that he had already made up his mind about what effect the passage of A049 would have on our situation in the diocese of Florida:  none. We will not bless same-sex relationships.  We will not allow our clergy to be a participant in the blessing of a same-sex relationship.  And, it has been further stated, that our clergy can not counsel couples who are seeking a blessing of a same-sex relationship in another state.

End of discussion.  We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander...

It's been hard to put those things away in the face of such entrenched and unbending resistance to the direction the Episcopal Church is moving.  I told my spiritual director that it is maddening to be a sheep in a flock that can see the beautiful lush green fields that others are grazing in, only to be shepherded to the other side of the road where the fields are trampled and full of weeds and yet I'm told to eat of this field, and like it!

I am reminded of the line in Psalm 34:  Taste and see that the Lord is good, happy are they who trust in him.

Ultimately, this is where I go in my head as I contemplate the situation of this accident of geography.  I have to look beyond a bishop to find the real source of why I remain in any way affiliated with the church. The real field in which the sheep are called to go into is the one with green grass, not the one with the weeds.  

So what does this have to do with practice?  My spiritual director, after being a witness to my thrashing, asked me directly if I pray for my bishop.  And I had to admit that what prayers I do offer for the man are insincere at this point.  I am forced to pray for him out loud when I am serving as the intercessor, but what I am feeling in my heart in that moment is not affection but affliction.  

Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander...

In order to do that in thinking about my bishop, I have introduced into my daily practice the collect in which we pray for our enemies.  I realize it may be strong language to call a bishop an "enemy" but it is what it is.  There is no prayer for our obstacles or stumbling blocks, and so I turn to the prayer for our enemies.  It reads:

O God, the Father of all, whose Son commanded us to love
our enemies: Lead them and us from prejudice to truth:
deliver them and us from hatred, cruelty, and revenge; and in
your good time enable us all to stand reconciled before you,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Using this as a daily prayer has been enormously helpful in that it has reminded me of my place and that of the bishop's.  Both of us are operating under the umbrella of God in the time appointed by God that remains a total mystery.  And the deliverance that I am asking for is not just from the oppression of this accident of geography, but my own ability to let go of its power over me.  In the letting go, I am able to drop the bitterness, wrath, anger, wrangling and slander.  To paraphrase another portion of Paul's letter to the Ephesians, it's OK to get angry and not give in to the prejudice, but don't let the anger become all-consuming and the thing you carry to the end of your day.  Recognize it.  Pray for it. Let it go and allow God to do the heavy-lifting.  This is the way to freedom.


   

Collects, and Psalms, and Chicken: Oh, My!

What a week of absurdity this has been!

I haven't had time to do much posting here, and perhaps that was for the better.  It gave me time to continue watching, marking, learning and inwardly digesting the amazing scene this past Wednesday happening at Chick-fil-A restaurants in Tallahassee and elsewhere.

Hundreds and hundreds of people, snaking their way through packed parking lots and waiting in long lines at the Drive Thru window just to make a point.  Ask some of them and they'd say their point was the protection of "free speech" or "freedom of religion."

The point they really made was: we hate gay people.

I know for some that seems like a harsh judgment.  But the president of the Atlanta-based chicken chain was not using code words for his beliefs.  He speaks of marriage equality as "shaking our fist at God" and telling God what defines a marriage.  When he was asked about Chick-fil-A's Winshape Foundation, which has bankrolled several anti-gay groups, and whether he is active in fighting marriage equality, Cathy said, "Guilty as charged."  In other words, he is not trying to hide his bias.  In response, the LGBT community and many of our supporters are not hiding our bias either.  There was a call for boycott, and even a "Kiss-in" at Chick-fil-A restaurants.  To fight back, former Arkansas Governor and one-time GOP Presidential contender Mike Huckabee called for an Appreciation Day on Wednesday.

And they came out in droves. It was a banner day for chicken sandwiches sold between two halves of a hamburger bun.  Some said they were eating there because they were standing up for this Christian businessman and his right to free speech.  It wasn't about hate.  It wasn't about being anti-gay.

Well, until my friend, Terry, showed up to exercise her free speech rights at the Chick-fil-A on Apalachee Parkway.  Crying, "Shame!" at the many cars and people in the restaurant, Terry said a group of portly white men shouted back at her, "That's right, faggot!"

No, this wasn't about hate at all.

 O god, the protector of all who trust in you, without whom
nothing is strong, nothing is holy: Increase and multiply upon
us your mercy; that, with you as our ruler and guide, we may so
pass through things temporal, that we lose not the things eternal...

I have found that keeping this particular collect in mind has been helpful throughout this whole nonsense.  Because these matters are truly temporal and the height of absurdity.  Really: must you eat unhealthy, artery-clogging food to prove you don't like gay people?

I mentioned the psalms in the title of this post because they, too, have been helpful this week.  For whatever reason, the ones assigned during the daily office have hit the perfect note, capturing the feeling that I and others felt as we saw the cars going bumper-to-bumper into the Chick-fil-As.   From Psalm 69:

 Pour out your indignation upon them, *
    and let the fierceness of your anger overtake them.

Let them be wiped out of the book of the living * 
and not be written among the righteous. 

As for me, I am afflicted and in pain; * 
 your help, O God, will lift me up on high.

It has been quite helpful to have these words running around in my head as I have dealt with insensitivity to why gay people might be just a wee-bit offended by the words and deeds of Dan Cathy and his chicken shack chain.  I think about how many other countless struggles have been fought for equality throughout world history, and how many of those folks turned to these same words as a security blanket of "At least God gets it!"

Naturally, I am aware that the people on the "other side" read these same words as the same security blanket against the likes of me.  And I figure where God sits is in the middle, waiting for us to spit out all the insults and anger until we exhaust ourselves into a heap of realizing that we've worked ourselves into a froth over matters that are, at the end of the day, temporal bullshit. 

We don't have to eat their food.  And those who do support bigotry are welcome to go gobble up as many waffle fries as they want.  And in another forty years, this is going to look as stupid and hatefully absurd as the pictures of the crazy, angry white people exercising their free speech rights against desegregation.

I think the young son of my friends, Sharon and Ed, said it best when he announced to his parents that he
"likes Jimmers and Ben better than Chick-fil-A."    I do, too!

Black, Gay and Christian: Another Trinity

PFLAG-Tallahassee group with playwright and actor James Webb in the black T-shrit.

 I had a great time Saturday night returning to the FAMU  campus to bring along some of the PFLAG group to see, "The Contract" by James Webb.  I had seen and written about the play this winter, (see "The Contract Raises Questions") and so I was very excited that it was back, and I could get a group together to see it.

Unlike my previous experience, when the play was done in the black box theater, the audience at this last performance were engaged, and not enraged.  Moments in the play, and different statements coming from the characters, made some people shake their heads or mumble out loud, "Don't do it!" or "Girl??" or whatever.  But nobody, at least that I could see or hear, stormed out of the theater or worried at intermission about their own souls for witnessing this play.

There has been a lot of difference in the world between the first time I saw this performance at the end of January and this past weekend.  And I think some of that also gave the play a slightly different feel for me.  Since President Obama's endorsement of marriage equality on national TV, there has been a tremendous public shift in the dialogue, especially coming from the pulpit of black churches.  On YouTube, there are more examples of black preachers endorsing the President.  Polls are showing that the attitudes of black voters on the question of marriage equality are softening from the hard-line stance that it is an abomination to a more "live and let live" attitude.  Even on my own Facebook page, I am watching with interest as black community leaders go toe-to-toe with those who are reeling from this announcement from the President and reminding their brothers and sisters that it wasn't that long ago that the majority of Americans didn't think blacks should have equal rights or be allowed to marry the person they loved.

And the media has discovered that there is this other trinity that exists in the world:  Black, Gay and Christian.  National Public Radio has done reports about the presence among us of such Christians, and the New York Times this past weekend ran an article about a black gay church in Harlem.  Is this really anything new?  No, it isn't.  But since the President has made it OK to talk about it, lips are opening.and tongues are speaking.  And plays, such as "The Contract", are cracking open the doors of the churches and allowing more light to enter.

I have felt pain for my gay brothers and sisters in the black church.  I have heard them talk about their difficulties and fears about coming out in an environment that has been so openly hostile.  Many of them have given up attending church, figuring it is better to just have whatever relationship they're going to have with God without the grief of being amongst the hateful ones on a Sunday morning.   And still many more have internalized the hatred they've heard from the pulpit and believed the b.s. that God doesn't like "their kind."  In turn, they have brushed off God, so they can enjoy being gay.   Those same scenarios exist for whites raised in the church as well.

I will say it again, and again, and again:  God is Love, and Love does not reject love, same-sex or opposite-sex.   When two people share a mutuality of love for one another that is not forced or coerced, then it is a human expression of the love God has toward all of creation.  

May that love continue to spread, and may the churches, both black and white, grow up further into Christ and the understanding that we are all part of this vibrant, diverse, and beautiful body.

Awards and Honors and God: Oh, My!

I'm a winner!

Well, actually, I think of it more as I'm the representative of a winner organization. 

The Family Tree, the local LGBT Community Center, presented me with an award for my work in starting the local PFLAG chapter, and for being so out and willing to be a voice for equality in our area.   When I received word of the award, I was genuinely shocked.   As I told the crowd Friday night, I do what I do because it's who I am.  I am a person who has always been concerned about justice and wanting everyone to be treated fairly.  And I love getting together with the PFLAG group and watching parents and others emerge from their shells to become active in seeking equal rights for LGBT citizens.  It's a lot easier to do justice work when there are others with you!

I never said a word about God in my remarks.  This is not because I don't believe in God, or somehow think that I am doing this life by myself.  On the contrary; I am reminded of God's presence in my life constantly.  But I'm a New Englander, and it isn't customary for us to make overt expressions of our faith, especially in mixed company.  There were some others who received honors who did make mention of being "blessed", which I appreciated hearing, and acknowledged the truth in that statement.  All of us are blessed.  All of us are loved.  All we have to do is believe it.  As I said, for me, I try to show Christ to the world in how I live, and move and have my being.  This has always been for me the appropriate outward and visible way of being a Christian.

And it is the one that tends not to repel or offend other people.   

But while I tend to take the more subdued approach, others are more willing to use a megaphone.  Such was the case with one award recipient, who stated repeatedly that everything this person had comes from God.  At the first mention I thought, "Wow!  That's wonderful."  But when it started to become a repeated mantra, I began to sense the growing discomfort in the room.   There were heavy sighs coming from tables behind me, and shifting in chairs.

I was sitting at a table with my friends from the Red Hills Pagan Council, some of whom get a little tired of the male image of God as the default in society.  When our recipient repeated the line about all comes from God and added a "Some of you don't want to hear that!", one of the blind members of the Pagan group said quietly and with innocence, "Why would you say that?"

Perhaps that was said because that has been the experience of those of us who profess a faith in Christ within our queer communities.   Quite often, we are ridiculed and chided by our peer group for associating with "the enemy."   We are forced to defend ourselves from those who think that our Christianity means that we are the enemies of reason or certainly reasonableness.   All Christians have, in the minds of some, been lumped together in the camp of hate-filled, Bible-pounding, bigoted jerks.  We aren't, of course.  And it is very painful to have people who you otherwise enjoy being around make your life miserable when it comes to faith in God.

And yet, I have not given up on those friends.  I am grounded in my faith, and it gives me the strength to remain standing in places of pleasure and pain in life.  And even some of my most ardent "anti-religion" friends see that.  And they puzzle over it. 

Like I said, I don't feel the need to always use words to show the light of Christ that shines from me to others.  I prefer it to happen in places like a PFLAG meeting where I am witness to people changing and softening their hearts, so that they can make a contribution to the struggle for justice.   I thank God for that privilege.  And I thank the local LGBT community for the recognition of that work done by PFLAG. 





  
 

Fade to Black

My heart was sad and I let out a heavy sigh this evening as I exited the Miracle 5 movie theater.   This was the last day of operation for this place that specialized in independent and international films.   As of the 7pm movies, the theater which has been in operation since 1968 was fading to black.  Regal Entertainment, the owner, says that it was an underperforming venue and in these economic times, you better perform or you're outta here.
The Miracle was my movie house of choice.   This is where I went to see Michael Moore documentaries, foreign-language films like  "Once Were Warriors", "The Lives of Others" and "Of Gods and Men" as well as just odd films such as "Ed Wood" and "Bubba Ho-Tep".   I saw "March of the Penguins" several times and was fascinated with "Control Room".   

It was also the place most likely to show movies with LGBT themes.  So it was only fitting that my final film at the Miracle 5 would be "Beginners", an interesting sweet and sad story about a man named Oliver (Ewan MacGregor) in mourning over the death of his father (Christopher Plummer).  Turns out the father lived the last few years of his life as an openly-gay man, something he had kept a secret throughout his 44-year marriage.  When the wife died, Plummer's character was finally free to love in the way he had wanted, only to die of lung cancer.  Still, Plummer was able to live and love fully.  Something his son was struggling to do as he mourned his father's death and the relationship he'd witnessed between his parents.

"Beginners" is not a "Harry Potter" or a "Captain America" or "The Help."  It is a film about relationships as opposed to shoot 'em ups.   It may not be the stuff of blockbusters, but it is the stuff of themes that I'm willing to pay to see on a big screen.  I'm not alone in this.  As a protest to the corporate decision, there was a large gathering of people that showed up Saturday night for a tailgate and movie party in the Miracle's parking lot.   The idea was to show the corporate number crunchers that there is an audience for such art house movies in Tallahassee.

And there really is.  The theater for the 4:10 showing today of "Beginners" was probably 40-percent full.

Still, 40-percent is not a packed house.  And probably qualifies as "underperforming."

I'm hoping that the other Regal Entertainment theatre in Tallahassee will dedicate at  least two or three of its 12 screens to showing some of the usual Miracle 5 fare.  This city, which has a film school at Florida State, really needs a place to show those movies that are characterized as "small films."

At the end of "Beginners", Oliver and his love interest in the film, Anne, are sitting next to each other as they try to begin their relationship after a lot of ups and downs.

"What happens now?" asks Oliver.

"I don't know, " says Anne.

"How does that work?"

I have the same questions about the future of such films in Tallahassee.

Good night and good bye, Miracle 5.   You've been a good show!



     

Soon, They Will Be Strangers

Tallahassee is going to have a very large expatriate population… thanks to our Gov. Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters of the state legislature.

One of the soon-to-be former residents of Tallahassee is a guy who had been in the choir at St. John’s. For purposes of the blog, I will simply call him B. He was one of the casualties of the budget cuts which resulted in lay-offs of more than 1200 people in Tallahassee and Leon County. Those who haven’t lost their state jobs are now being forced to contribute three percent of their salary to their own retirement benefits. Some might say, “Well, that’s only fair. That’s how the private sector does it!” But then those who make that argument are clueless about the salaries paid to Florida state employees which average $10-$20 thousand dollars LESS than people in the private sector doing the same work. The retirement package was supposed to be one of the “benefits” for taking a lower paying job with the state. Now, not only are workers not getting raises for the fifth year in a row; they’re getting a pay cut. Welcome to life as a Muggle in Governor Lord Voldemort’s Florida!

And so, back to B. I saw him at the end of the service taking pictures with his cell phone of our altar area, which, admittedly, is very beautiful. I was crossing to go back into the vesting room to get out of my robe, and he stopped me to thank me.

Curious, I thought. Why would he thank me?

Among my many volunteer activities, I have been spearheading a new ministry at St. John’s called The Circle of Hope. We meet for worship and lunch every other week to check in with people who are searching for work and offer some practical help as well as an empathetic ear to the unemployed and underemployed. B has never been to one of our meetings, but like many in the congregation, has heard the announcements and knows we exist. And last Sunday, we managed to collect more than $1,100 in gift cards to supermarkets in case people run out of money for groceries. So he wanted to thank me for what I was doing. And then he started to cry.

He was leaving. He’d found a job in his field in South Carolina. And while that was good news for his employment, he was grief-stricken about leaving Tallahassee and his St. John’s community. He was grateful that for his last Sunday at St. John’s, I had administered the chalice to him.

I’ve written before on this blog about the power and meaningfulness of my role as a chalice bearer. In that space, there is me and the other person with Christ connecting us over the cup. Even though we are not alone, this does feel like an intimate act of sharing in something sacred and special. I don’t know the history, present or future of most of the people I’m serving, and I don’t need to know. In that moment of now, this is about an acknowledgement of God with us, in us and moving through us. This will be important for B as he journeys to a new community and a new life.

I gave him a hug and wished him good luck. And I reminded him that he will always have a home at St. John’s.

I imagine this same scenario of good-bye is being played out all over our fair city. People are pulling up their stakes and moving away because opportunity is no longer available here. What an irony to the Independence Day theme of “Love America: Home of the Free and the Brave!” In Tallahassee, we are free to leave… and brave enough to stay.

B’s encounter with me was important because I was not in a very spiritual place during the service. I couldn’t bring myself to robustly sing hymns about our great country, and I would have rather that we would have found hymns about the freedom offered through God and Christ than sing, “My Country Tis of Thee.” But B, in his sadness, reminded me again why I am at St. John’s, why God continues to yank me back there every Sunday, and why I serve at the altar as a Eucharistic Minister. The pomp and circumstance of the service is nice, but what matters is being a witness to someone’s hurt or joy, and then again asking God to be with us and remember us always to the end of the age.

Tallahassee is in a time of turmoil. But I believe even this rocky ride will end. And then, with God’s help, maybe we’ll see a return of our expatriate population.

Love you, B. Good luck and peace be with you!

Double Dose of Death Leaves Huge Hole

Van Lewis was a determined, gentle and odd character on the landscape of Tallahassee politics.   I remember that he and his mother, Clifton, were perennial attendees of every city commission meeting I covered as a cub reporter for public radio.  They were there mostly to talk about historic preservation.   Van tried to join the ranks of the Commission... twice.   He never won the popular vote, but he won the hearts of many who appreciated his candor and his unabashed willingness to speak his mind.  When you interviewed him, you had to respect the fact that he not only was Van, but was Ahunahana.  He believed he was the spirit of a Seminole Indian chief.  As a reporter, I figured it was better to go along than to have an argument over these credentials.

His parents were among the few white supporters of equal rights for blacks in Tallahassee during the Civil Rights Movement and bus boycotts in the 1950s and 60s.   His mother was loved by young teen-aged and college boys struggling to make it on the music scene.  My old boss told me Clifton made a place for punk bands to rehearse in a warehouse space when others didn't want anything to do with guys with lopsided hair cuts and leather high-laced boots.  She saw it as artistic expression, and she was all for it.  And that's the stock from which came Van, a tireless advocate against circumcision.

 I came across this video of Van talking about his crusade to end the practice at one of the local hospitals.  It's interesting to hear this guy, with ties to old money Tallahassee with Lewis State Bank, talk about how he and his brother were arrested for simply walking up and down a public sidewalk with protest signs in 1970.  Van died Monday after living for four-months with pancreatic cancer.   He was 68.  Among his last words, the newspaper reports, he wrote out this message on a white dry erase board:

"Maybe God's main work with me is done. My body stops. I don't. I'll try to do my job. I'll let God take care of God's."

Not even 24-hours later, another longtime activist and advocate for neighborhoods was killed in a car accident on West Pensacola Street.   I interviewed Edwina Stephens years ago when I was still the lowest person on the totem pole at WFSU.  But in that one interview, I saw why people were drawn to listen to her.  She was passionate about protecting neighborhoods and the environment.  She didn't need to be in political office; her's was more the role of the prophet, speaking truth to power at every turn and doing so in a way that was a loud thunder without the ligtening show.  Her presence on the southside was huge, and her absence will be felt.  

In thinking about the loss of these two individuals, I am reminded of the real privilege that I enjoyed as a reporter in that I spent time in conversation with people who had something to say that was worth listening to and sharing with the public.  Yes, I also spent countless hours being mired in the crap at the Capitol, and that stuck to me like barnacles on a boat.   But Van in his eccentric, off-beat and loveable ways made following and reporting on the news more fun.  Edwina made her words matter.   Both of them left their indelible mark on me, and I feel richer for having been privileged to share their stories with the public radio audience.

Into your hands, dear God, come the souls of Van and Edwina.  May light perpetual shine upon them and may they ever increase in your presence.   Amen.  

Entertaining Angels... and Demons, too

In our parish hall, we have had a banner hanging on the wall with a quote from Hebrews 13:2:

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.

We have many strangers who wander through the doors of St. John's. Some are homeless. Some are seeking a spiritual home.

Some are the Governor of Florida.

It was a bit of a shock to everyone on Sunday to learn that the most divisive Governor in recent Florida history had decided that he would be attending the 9am Palm Sunday service. I had arrived at church early to set up the outdoor sound system in Eve's Garden for the Procession of the Palms. That's when I was told that we would have a "special guest". And I knew what that meant. Looking to the heavens, I repeated three times, "Thank you, God. I'm an 11:15er!!" My Christian charity was being put to the test... just as it would be for others at our downtown parish.

One thing most everyone in this city knows is that our Governor and state legislature are promising a budget that will cause enormous economic hardship to our community. They are talking of lay-offs of more than 600 state employees, increased health care costs and retirement contributions resulting in a take home pay cut to state workers who are among the lowest paid civil servants in this country. The economic forecast is an overall loss of at least $30 million dollars to the local economy. As you might imagine, this does not make the Governor a popular man... with the churched and unchurched alike. With so many in the St. John's congregation employed by the state, or serving the needs of state employees in the private sector, the idea of entertaining this particular angel was difficult to say the least.

One member, a person who works for a bureau slated to be closed under the Governor's budget, saw him and looked crestfallen.

"It's one thing to have to deal with him during the week, but not on Sunday. Not in 'my' house!" I gave her a hug and assured her it was OK. And then I made my jokes about changing the lines of the Passion Gospel to be "Hail, King of the Screw!" to get her laughing.

I did not stay for the 9am service, but I did see the discomfort. People refused to speak to the Governor. They huddled at one end of the parish hall as far away from him as they could get. I understand that no one from the nine o'clock congregation sat with him, his wife and their handlers. And there were those who, upon seeing the "special guest", walked away and found themselves going into the Presbyterian church a few blocks down the street.

All of these actions are understandable on a gut level. And it was an illustration of the alienation many in this city are feeling and our perception of the "special guest": a Governor of the quality of the other Governor depicted that morning in the Passion gospel named "Pontius Pilate".

It also is a moment for me, as one who had a visceral response of revulsion about the Governor's presence, to take pause and ponder the call to be Christian. I am expected to welcome the stranger in the same way my Jewish friends remembered in their seders last night: be charitable toward the stranger for we were once strangers in Egypt.

Even when I find the stranger to be a bastard?

How was my unwillingness to welcome the Governor even with a simple handshake and "Good morning" any different than those African Primates of the Anglican Communion who refuse to go to the Lord's Table with our female Presiding Bishop? When we are gathered as the Church, we are gathered as the Body of Christ. And the various members of the Body are not all alike, and they don't necessarily get along.

In welcoming strangers, we are not only possibly entertaining angels; we may encounter a few demons. And even demons, at one time, were angels.

This is a tough thing to remember. Knowing who is hurting, being aware of the callousness of those who are drafting these budget plans and their willingness to intentionally inflict harm on a city out of spite or jealousy makes it very hard to resist the tempter that wants to shun a Governor like this one. And yet, it really is inherent in the commandment to "love one another as I have loved you" that I must still love him.

Now, that's not to say, "Go ahead; allow yourself to be a doormat." But rather, we have to remember that the real retribution is in the hands of God and God, despite what we may think, has not been blind to all that's happening. That commandment tells us to love... because even someone like Governor Scott can be redeemed. To walk out of the church at the presence of the one who we don't like shows a lack of understanding that the love of Christ knows no boundaries. That's part of the tension in being a Christian, and definitely being an Episcopalian. Besides, walking away or avoiding means we have ended the conversation with the other before it could even begin.

Still, I readily admit that I made no effort to engage the Governor last Sunday. The wisdom I had in the moment said that I needed to stay back because I could not be civil. And I again thanked God that I normally attend the later morning service. Perhaps, having been made aware of my own lack of understanding Christ's love, I might behave differently with "special guests" in the future.

Alone in the Desert with the Devil

"The Temptation of Christ" by Ary Scheffer

For forty days and forty nights, Jesus fasted in the desert. At the end of that time, the tempter came. And Jesus, no doubt, was feeling his humanity. He's tired and hungry and feeling alone in the desert with the devil putting him to the test:

Make these stones bread!

Throw yourself from this pinnacle of the Temple!

Rule over all the kingdoms of the world!

"You can have it all!" says the tempter. "Just fall down and worship me!"

That really is the crux of where the devil is headed in this scene with Jesus. The temptations are one thing, but ultimately it's the "fall down and worship me!" that is the ultimate goal.

These are the same temptations that we face each day. There is the desire to eat our fill (and then some). The craving to feel immortal. And then the crown jewel of them all: to be ruler of everything and totally in control. It's greed and pride and gluttony all rolled into a fine package. And it's all about who and what do we place first in our lives. And what God will we serve.

One of the most popular of the "other Gods" is money. We need money in order to buy stuff. And even if we have plenty of stuff, sometimes there is the temptation to buy more stuff. Because this extra stuff will make us feel younger, look thinner, and is just plain better than that other stuff we already have. The God of Money offers security, and not having money can make us anxious or depressed.

This is where we have the collapse of the kingdom. Because of our worship of money, we fail to see how money traps us into behaving in ways that are far from being reflective of the God that promises eternal life. In fact, money leads to death. When we withhold tax dollars from funding services such as schools, for example, we are choking off our future. Rather than building up our communities, we are ripping them apart. Our temptation to hang onto "our" money will leave us as a society alone in the desert.

If we are in a position of power in our jobs, how we handle that responsibility may be another moment that we find ourselves alone with the devil in the desert. Back when I worked in radio, and I was in the thankless job of interim news director, my superiors asked during my interview for the permanent position about one of the people in the newsroom. She had secured a grant to do some important environmental reporting involving the tri-state water wars. My managers suggested to me that perhaps I should take that grant away from her. They were ostensibly worried about whether she was up for the task (she had issues with depression). But what I saw in their request had nothing to do with caring for her mental health. This employee was a bit of tinderbox who already suspected I was out to do her in and one of the managers was encouraging that paranoia in her. I knew this: she already had the grant and was the most knowledgeable person in our department on the issues involving the water wars, and I knew that this grant was a big win for her. To take it away might have caused her to snap.

"No," I said, "I think she can handle this assignment, and we've been working on a schedule to allow her time to do the reporting." And the tempter in the form of those managers glared at me, but could do nothing. Well, almost nothing. They passed me over for the promotion. But the reporter completed the radio special on the tri-state water wars.

Jesus rebuffs the temptations laid before him at the time when he was most likely to stumble. He finds his strength in the surety of God, and is now even more prepared to embark upon a mission where he is the embodiment of this extraordinary and unconditional love. We, like Jesus, are going to find ourselves alone in our most desperate moments facing the temptation to give in to our weaknesses. That's the rub in this human business. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, is to not lose sight of God.

Post Election Blahs

Today, one of the most courageous people on the Leon County Commission threw in the towel. Commissioner Bob Rackleff who would have faced a run-off against Kristin Dozier, a woman who is the vice president of a construction firm, decided not to push forward with a campaign into November. The odds of him overcoming Dozier in November did not look good. Dozier effectively won Tuesday's primary with 46-percent of the vote to Rackleff's 35-percent.

I was lucky enough to run into Bob this evening, along with his son, Durward. Bob is proud of all his kids, but is particular about singing the praises of his youngest who had the courage to come out in high school, and then lobby the local school board to adopt an anti-discrimination policy in the schools. Bob's love and admiration for his son was the thing that under girded his staunch support of the LGBT community. And it was that love for his son, and the many friends he'd made in the queer community, that gave him the freedom to speak out for our community, and stand up to the bigotry that would have derailed or weakened the Human Rights Ordinance. He has long been a champion of a clean environment having been sued by Texaco for his crusade to keep them from building a pipeline in neighboring Lloyd. In fact, that was one of the first long-form stories I worked on as a rookie reporter at WFSU in 1990. He has been an advocate for alternative energy, and was out in front speaking against the proposed off-shore oil drilling in the state legislature.

In short, Bob has done all that I would have ever wanted in a Leon County Commissioner. Many of us in District Five felt the same way. He was our Barney Frank. Unfortunately, that strong-willed no-holds-bar way of doing politics isn't "nice". And apparently, some of the people who once supported Bob were lured into voting for the candidate who maintains she has the same values, but she'll be nicer. I only hope "nicer" doesn't translate into the typical wishy-washy approach to politics that too many Democrats seem to take.

I wish Ms. Dozier luck on the Commission. She may find that those friends in the Chamber of Commerce who helped back her campaign might now want her to compromise her progressive credentials because that's not always "good for business."

An Open Letter to All My Communities

Dear Everybody,

I am writing this letter to all of you, wherever you are. This is to my friends in the gay community, the Christian community, the Mickee Faust community, the Leon County/Tallahassee, FL, community... all of which have the common bond of being part of the overarching human community.

I am just one person, one voice, one human being trying to muddle through this world we call life. And I am sad and depressed by what I witness in the world. Today, I read in the gospel of Matthew about the parable of the seed and the sower. I read about what happens to the seed thrown on rocky ground, or amidst the thorns, and then what happens when the seed lands on "good soil". And the passage ended with these words:

But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. (Matt 13:16)

And I thought, "Are you serious?? Blessed??" What have my eyes seen and my ears heard lately?

Cowardice. Fear. Control. Anger. Hurt. These are very loud, incessant and ever-present noises that blow tons of smoke and drown out the beauty and the joy in the world. Even on a gorgeous, spring day in Tallahassee, I found it hard to find what was the blessing of this life. And I'm tired. I'm tired of the pitting of my rights as a gay person against the rights of a business owner to deny me a job or services. I'm tired of having to beg for the indulgence of being allowed such rights in the first place. I'm tired of Christians who keep quiet about injustice, and the others who claim to put on the mantle of Christ and then use that mantle to wrap themselves in their cowardice, fears, control, anger and hurt toward other people. I'm just plain tired!!

And I'm blessed? My mentor once told me that the closer I move toward God, the more the forces that are not "of God" will try to interfere and push me away. And "blessing", in this instance, means "possessing an inward contentedness and joy that is not affected by physical circumstances".

So clearly, I have to get back to contentedness and joy because the physical circumstances are burying me. I have a plan on how to do that.

The upside: I have received word from many of my Episcoposse that they have heard my cry for prayerful help, and are doing so. Thank you all, and peace be with you.

In the meantime, know that the bad behavior of 'the world' as of late has been making me very tired. Take responsibility for yourselves, and stop projecting all your fear and anger stuff onto me. Is there something wrong with letting people be people (be they gay, straight, Christian or atheist)?

Peace. Out.

Poor Proctor Needs Protection from Mean Little deaf Queer

I think Leon County Commissioner Bill Proctor must be feeling pretty miffed that someone upstaged him at the last County Commission meeting.

When my friend, Terry Galloway, stormed across the room shouting at Proctor that he should be ashamed of likening LGBT people to pedophile priests in the Roman Catholic Church... I think the Commissioner was shocked. His bullying tirade about "homosexual church people" had been interrupted. And worse for Proctor, people were applauding the five-foot-two deaf woman for her protest.

Realizing that the spotlight had moved off him, Proctor decided to do something to get himself back at center stage: write a letter to the Sheriff insisting that there be more security at the next public hearing on the Human Rights Ordinance, and--for the sake of safety--don't let that "allegedly deaf citizen" back in the chamber. Here's his letter, with my commentary:

Dear Sheriff Campbell:

I am requesting enhanced security for the Board of County Commission May 11 meeting. The Commission will hold a public hearing on whether to adopt an anti-discrimination policy against gays and lesbians.

Actually, the Commission will be holding a public hearing on whether to adopt a Human Rights Ordinance that would extend protections for currently listed classes... and ADD sexual orientation, gender identity and gender expression.

At our meeting on Tuesday (April 27, 2010), I suffered an uncivil reaction from an alleged deaf citizen who charged the dais toward me as I was speaking and the Commission was deliberating.

Terry is not an "alleged deaf citizen"; she is, in fact, deaf since she was a toddler. She did not "charge" the dais, but did leap from her seat and wagged her finger at Proctor as she crossed the room. True, Proctor was speaking... but the Commission wasn't deliberating. I think they were waiting for him to shut up.

Compliments to the two deputies posted in the chamber that evening. They escorted her out professionally.

True.


They reacted hastily and alertly to the emotional woman who was running toward me and shouting. I have never seen this occur at our meeting before. Her eyes were on fire. Her face appeared dangerous. I believe she would have fired at me if she had a weapon or thought to grab the deputy’s gun. You did not see her face and eyes, but I did.

Excuse me, but, bwahahahahahahaha! Yes, Terry was emotional. Yes, Terry was shouting. Her eyes on fire? Her face "dangerous"? She was no menace to him. She knew when the deputies approached her that she was going to be taken from the room. And she would not have been so stupid as to grab one of their guns and started shooting him. Can you say, "drama queen"?

I recognize there exist a broad horizon that people identify as reality and normalcy.

And you, Commissioner, live on a planet all of your own making!

Tuesday’s meeting further confirmed this recognition. Yet, we, nor county staff should have to sustain bodily injury from the public while discharging our responsibilities at an official County Commission meeting. The price of being a public servant should not include physical attacks. Given the context of the era we now live, I interpret angry charges toward me as having deadly potential. I don’t know what this deaf woman was hearing….maybe demons?

Again, Terry got nowhere near him and was of no threat to him, bodily or otherwise. As for what "this deaf woman was hearing..." well, I would agree Commissioner. As a hearing person, I believe what you were saying about me, her and the thousands of others like us was demonic!

Sadly, no one “who could hear” ran toward me or acted so uncivil.

Ahhh.... now we see what was really bothering him. He didn't want to have the deaf going after him; he wanted a hearing person. I will remember that next time, Commissioner.

Given the experience I had and the comments from others who saw the moment I respectfully request that citizens are searched for weapons and that additional deputies are posted for the next public hearing on the anti gay discrimination ordinance. Moreover, I request that this lady not be allowed into the chamber for the next meeting on this ordinance.

Because, dammit, it's all about ME... Bill Proctor... me, me, me!! How dare that deaf woman upstage me in my own theater!

It is interesting to note that Bill Proctor, an African-American, would call on the Sheriff to use intimidation such as metal detectors or searches or additional law enforcement to deal with us uppity gay folk. Does he not see the irony in that?

Oh, that's right. It's Bill Proctor, the allegedly sane County Commissioner.

The Answer is "ORA"

I had a most unusual... and stress-related... dream last night.

The Mickee Faust Club was putting on a show, and I was in charge of one of the musical numbers. Things had gone "OK" in rehearsal, but when the piece went up on stage, people were missing their entrances, late on coming in with their solos, or completely forgetting their lines altogether. Costumes were in disarray... and worst of all... nobody seemed to care that things were so sloppy. I couldn't stand it anymore, and I stepped out on stage and demanded that they start again and "tuck in your shirt and pull up your skirt, dammit!" Instead of respecting me and my desire for them to "get it right", the entire cast just walked off. It was clear: they just didn't care what I thought.

Feeling hurt, I searched my brain for whom I could turn to talk this out. I found myself in my parents' house in New Hampshire. In the dream, it was still a single-family dwelling. I went up to the third-floor to see my brothers... but I only remember seeing only one of them. He and I had been close growing up, but we have gone our separate ways as adults. And this "Dream Brother" was definitely not wanting to help me, or buck me up in any way. So now I felt totally at a loss and miserable.

I was sitting with a crossword puzzle in my lap when my old boss, Ben, approached. Ben asked me if I liked working these puzzles, and I mumbled some kind of response to him. He made an inquiry about one of the clues.

"Do you know the answer to that one?" he asked me.

I stared at it for awhile, but couldn't come up with anything. And so the two of us worked it out with other clues. Finally, the answer that emerged was "Ora". That's when I woke up.

When I told this dream to my multi-lingual partner, her eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Ora means 'pray' in Latin!" As in "Ora pro nobis" (pray for us).

That insight gave me pause for reflection. With all that I have experienced recently with the Human Rights Ordinance, and watching helplessly as the oil spreads into the Gulf of Mexico, a dream that ends in "Ora" only makes sense. Interesting, too, to have Ben be the one who helped lead me to that clue.

I have been thinking about Ben recently in relation to the HRO. I recall the day that he told me I'd secured the promotion from general assignment reporter at WFSU to reporter/producer for the statewide Florida Public Radio Network. It had been a horribly stressful time. There had been one search committee that I had interviewed with for this internal promotion. But that committee disbanded before the search was over, and I had to be interviewed again. Because I was an internal candidate, and others were from outside, they made me do the interviews by phone. After seven months of this nonsense, Ben was ready to make me the final offer. But the management of the Public Broadcast Center balked. The head honcho asked, "Can't we fly in Quinn Klinefelter for an interview?" (Quinn was an excellent reporter, and a friend from Missouri. If they'd flown him in, they were going to offer him the job). Ben said, "No! I want to hire Susan." After a few more words, and huffing and puffing, head honcho man said what was really in his heart. He'd promote me, BUT I was representing the Public Broadcast Center at the state capitol and I was to "dress appropriately".

Ben relayed this information to me, and I knew what that meant. The major concern about me as a candidate had nothing to do with my abilities as a journalist. It had to do with my sexual orientation and my preference to wear my hair in a flattop and sensible shoes with pants as my every day attire. Had Ben not stood up for me, I probably would have been passed over.

So it is fascinating to me that my "Dream Ben" is telling me the answer is "Ora". Perhaps "Dream Ben" like "Real Ben" is looking out for me.

Bill Proctor: A Study in Stupid

Just when I thought he couldn't come up with anything more absurd than to compare sewage treatment plants to civil rights, along comes Leon County Commissioner Bill Proctor with another truly out there, and highly offensive, statement about the gay community.

This time, the renegade who may or may not actually live in his district, launched into a comparison of the scandal rocking the Roman Catholic Church hierarchy with the hiding and transferring of pedophile priests to an LGBT community who are of many faiths... including none... who just want to be able to work and live in this county without fear that their sexual orientation or gender identity will be used against them.

Proctor started his political vomit by asking why religious institutions would be exempted from the anti-discrimination provisions in the Human Rights Ordinance. He reasoned that they shouldn't be... and then pulled out the New York Times... and cited the child sex abuse scandals in the Roman Catholic Church "because of homosexuals." He kept repeating this line over and over. His intent? To be mean. To be evil. To be Bill Proctor.

The tension in the room broke when my friend, Terry Galloway, finally learned what Proctor was saying (Terry is deaf, and Proctor was too far away for her to read his lips, so her wife did the interpreting). When she learned that she was being compared to pedophile priests in the Roman Catholic Church, she erupted in screams.

"NO! You are comparing me to a pedophile?!?!?! You should be ashamed!!"

Terry made her way from her seat across the chamber, continuing to yell at Proctor as a sheriff's deputy quickly moved in to escort her from the room. The rest of us stood up and cheered. I slapped my hands together in thunderous applause as did many. We had to. We needed to excise the poison that had been poured on our heads by a so-called political leader. I followed after her and the deputy. I knew Terry would be told to leave the building, but I wanted to make sure that the officer knew she was no threat... beyond breaking up the supposed civility of this hearing. When I returned to the room, I shed a few tears of my own.

It had been a very long meeting. Eighty speakers in all. I would say a little more than half were speaking in favor of the Human Rights Ordinance to extend protections from discrimination in employment, housing and accommodation to people based upon their sexual orientation, gender identity or gender expression. In addition, because the proposal will cover businesses with 5 or more employees, it would give the same protection to all the protected classes (including race, gender, religious affiliation, ethnicity, disability, etc.) and cover far more workplaces in Leon County.

Those who were opposed rolled out the arguments that this would be a burden on business. Some made a mockery of the discrimination me and others like me experience when they wondered aloud why we weren't offering protections to smokers or people who are obese.

The opponents kept insisting that they don't hate people, they don't discriminate against people, they "love the sinner, not the sin." The Frightened doth protest too much me thinks.

In the end, the Commission voted 4-3 to send this measure to a public hearing scheduled for May 11th. And we can have a repeat of the same 3-1/2 hours of testimony. But perhaps it will be longer. Perhaps more of us who have experienced discrimination will find the still small inner voice and let that become a roar for change in our community.

Clergy Speak Out for Human Rights

Rev. Mark Byrd and other Tallahassee clergy outside the Leon Co. Courthouse

The times they are a-changin' in Leon County.


In 1992... the predominant religious feeling in the county could be seen on signs like this one that was put up along Apalachee Parkway in protest of a Lesbian and Gay Film Festival.

Today, clergy representing Temple Israel, MCC, Methodist, Presbyterian, Lutheran, United Church of Christ, and Unitarian churches spoke out in favor of the proposed Human Rights Ordinance. And although the clergy weren't there, St. John's did express support for the ordinance which will extend protections from discrimination in employment and housing to the LGBT community.

The impetus for the clergy to speak up came as some other churches have been ramping up their anti-gay rhetoric to stop the ordinance from going forward. As one could predict, the most right-wing churches have been telling their congregations that the County Commission is planning to adopt a "Homosexual Rights" ordinance. Hence, today's news conference emphasized the proper term--Human Rights Ordinance-- with some clarity that God is still speaking, and still drawing more and more people back into the fold, and has not shooed away the LGBT faithful or left them to be devoured by the wolves. Others noted that the application of moral codes of conduct from BCE times simply doesn't work in the 21st century. And still others made the point that it was an obligation of the church and church leaders to stand with those who are the persecuted, the scorned, and the most vulnerable to attack in our society.

In short, on the issue of including LGBT people as "Human" deserving of rights, the ones on the right do NOT speak for the ones on the left... or even in the center. And the left and the center are becoming a much bolder group.

Many thanks to those clergy and churches who lent their names and their presence before TV cameras to stand with the LGBT community. With you all beside us, we know that the enemy will not triumph, and God will continue to speak.

Say It Ain't So?! Chamber of Commerce and Human Rights

It's taken me a few days to be able to write about this because it was so devasting, and so hurtful, that I just wanted to avoid thinking about it.

The "it" to which I am referring is the statement the Greater Tallahassee Chamber of Commerce put out on its website, encouraging its members to contact the Leon County Commission and OPPOSE the Human Rights Ordinance. The Chamber argued about the "costs" to small businesses in these "tough" economic times if they were pulled into court on charges that they discriminate against the LGBT community in employment issues. They said there was no "demonstrative need" for this ordinance and this represented another layer of bureaucracy.

In other words: we should be able to discriminate against "those people" if we want to. And this from the group that claims to represent the business interests of our community.

As you might imagine, the hue and cry from this salvo launched across the bow resulted in the Chamber removing the statement from its website. But the "apology" from Chamber President Sue Dick was something akin to the type of "apologies" the gay community often gets: I call it "Sorry to have offended you, but...." After carrying on about how the Chamber supports the "positive principle" of respecting all individual rights... Dick added this paragraph:

Before taking any action, we want to urge commissioners to deeply
research the issue further to determine the coverage provided by existing laws,
processes and protections -- and also to provide an economic projection of how
this proposed ordinance is likely to impact local businesses. Thank you for your
thoughtful perspective about this issue. I encourage you to send your input and
comments to either me, Matt Brown or Glenda Thornton (Chair, Chamber
Governmental Affairs Committee).


The email address is info@talchamber.com.

You can always write to the Chamber and tell them, again, why there is no need to continously study this issue to death. Tell them that the "economic projection" of NOT extending protections to the LGBT community will result in many Fortune 500 companies looking elsewhere in Florida or Georgia to locate because they don't want to be in a place where some of their valuable employees will feel UNwelcome. And remind the Chamber that currently in Florida, there is NO recourse for LGBT people to seek redress for being fired due to their sexual orientation or gender identity or expression. There are NOT federal protections either. In Florida, you have to live in a county that has adopted a Human Rights Ordinance in order to feel protected.

Finally, tell Sue Dick and the Chamber that this only becomes costly to businesses that insist on discrimination. It's simple: treat people right, and you have nothing to fear.

The next hearing on the Human Rights Ordinance is tomorrow at the Leon County Courthouse, County Commission chambers, between 3-6pm. If you are a praying person, light a candle for our community. This fight for our rights is not an easy one.

In the bleak mid-winter

Almighty and most merciful God, we remember before you
all poor and neglected persons whom it would be easy for us
to forget: the homeless and the destitute, the old and the sick,
and all who have none to care for them. Help us to heal those
who are broken in body or spirit, and to turn their sorrow
into joy. Grant this, Father, for the love of your Son, who for
our sake became poor, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
--Prayers for the Poor and Neglected, BCP, p.826

This morning, I opened the Tallahassee Democrat and read an article that should offend anyone who has a brain connected to a heart: there are homeless people sleeping outside in weather where the wind chill is 15 degrees while there are available beds at HOPE Community. Reason? Because HOPE Community doesn't have enough security to bring in folks who are left in the cold because of The Shelter's limited space.

Mel Eby, the director of The Shelter, has offered that he would make sure nobody with drugs or weapons are sent over to HOPE on W. Pensacola Street. But given that HOPE is supposed to be a transitional community for homeless people, this idea that they couldn't figure out what to do to house the homeless for these next few nights of cold weather is criminal.

Well, already this morning, the Democrat's website has offered an update that... thanks to an anonymous donor... HOPE now has the ability to open its doors from 7pm to 7am for the remaining homeless who have been sleeping outside The Shelter. Yay, journalism!

This idea that we, all of us, would leave our fellow humans to sleep outside right now has been deeply troubling to me. In my head, I hear the warning Christ gave to the seventy disciples he was dispatching:

Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, “The kingdom of God has come near to you.” But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, “Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.” I tell you, on that day it will be more tolerable for Sodom than for that town.--Luke 10:8-12

This morning's printed newspaper story made me think the paper should be called "The Sodom Gazette". The American Red Cross had opened shelters in Franklin County, an hour and a half from here, but in Leon County, the Red Cross was waiting for Emergency Management officials to give the order to open a shelter here.

Meanwhile, people are sleeping outside!

Following yesterday's noon-day service, Fr. Lee Graham and I were talking about the strategic position of St. John's as a downtown church, to offer temporary housing for those in such desperate straits. Probably, like HOPE community, our issue would be security. But churches, ours and others in the down town area, should be willing to make this outreach.

I'm very thankful that HOPE Community, through a generous donation, has what it feels it needs to open those 50 very-needed beds. Perhaps we should call the donor "Jonah", and praise HOPE for heeding the call to return to their purpose!

Rabies Scare Sends Pets to the Park

Two weekends ago, my friend Beatrice, her handyman Kirk, and my feline niece, Tweetie, were attacked by a rabid fox only a half-block from our house.

This was the second rabid fox attack in the Myers Park neighborhood in as many months, and with the fox habitat destroyed by the start-and-stop construction of the Cascades Park boondoogle, the likelihood is that more foxes going out of their minds in terminal pain from rabies will be coming into our downtown neighborhood and threatening more people and pets.

In an effort to at least take care of one side of the equation, the city and county offered a free rabies vaccination at the Myers Park Recreation Center. And it was unreal! There were so many dogs and cats and barks and meows and people on their cellphones... it was like a pet owners convention. People were in line for over an hour to get their pets the rabies shot. Some had been smart enough to bring a bowl to put water in while they waited in the hot, sticky humidity of a Tallahassee summer day.

But what is still not clear to me is what are our governmental officials planning to do to take care of the rabies problem in Leon County.

Already in 2009, the county has a report of 61 rabies cases, which was the total number of cases for all of 2008. And it has been on the rise steadily over the past four years. That, to me at least, would indicate that there is a problem and it should be tackled. Otherwise, we'll continue to have issues of rabid animals attacking humans and pets in neighborhoods... or in the case of Myers Park, they could cross into down town parking lots and go after state government workers. Then, maybe, it will warrant more attention!

In the case of the attack on my friend and her workman, they don't get free shots to deal with the assault. In fact, the workman... who is in the same position as yours truly (the uninsured American)... he is being forced to pay $1,700, money he simply doesn't have. Why doesn't the county offer free shots to those attacked?!

It seems to be inhumane to simply do nothing to stop the spread of this excrutiatingly-painful disease among the fox population. We are dooming them to a certain death if we don't do something. Why are we not baiting traps with oral vaccines? Especially since we're likely to see rabies move from the foxes to the raccoons to who-knows-what-else. I was once lectured by a man at Leon County Animal Control that the fox is a protected species and has as much right to be in the Myers Park area as I do. Well, that's true: it also has as much right not to be exposed to a deadly virus passed from mammal to mammal! And I, and my pet, have a right to be protected as well.