I learned to shoot a .22 at church camp, and I am really good at it. My dad went hunting with parishioners. He held the gun while my brother shot at ground squirrels. But I hate guns. I went out to the movies with some friends a few nights ago, and thought to myself, “I shouldn’t text during the previews. An old white man might shoot me.” ( A man in Florida was shot after an altercation over texting during the previews in a movie theater. More here .) (You might think this actually gives me a great reason to avoid old white men and the state of Florida, but that seems unrealistic.) I know I’m supposed to be all measured and moderate, and say that I hate it when people get ahold of guns illegally, or I hate it when people who own guns are irresponsible, and I support the right to bear arms responsibly, but that’s not it. I actually just don’t like guns. Yes, I know I live in the U.S. I am resigned to the fact that there are guns everywhere, and I have to deal with it.
Validated ministry in theological education, social justice advocacy, religious publishing... you get the picture. Pondering life, faith, church, and world. Views are my own and do not represent my employer.