Time to Amend the Second Amendment

This is a copy of my letter to Jim Jordan who is the Congressional Representative for the district in which I live:

Dear Mr. Jordan, Following the 129th mass shooting in the first 87 days of 2023 in Nashville I saw a quote in the media of your response to suggestions of some gun safety legislation.  You reportedly said, “The second amendment is the second amendment.”  I would argue that such an oversimplified response is totally wrong in multiple ways.  Not only is it cruel and insensitive to the pain communities keep suffering over and over again as innocent children are brutally murdered, it is historically and legally just plain wrong.  

First, the fact that we are talking about an amendment to the U.S. Constitution means this founding document of our democracy can and has been amended multiple times.  The founders had the wisdom to realize changes to the Constitution would be necessary as our experiment in democracy progressed.  And there is even precedent for an amendment, namely the 18th which prohibited the manufacture and sale of alcoholic beverages, being repealed by another, i.e. the 21st 13 years later.  As important as the Constitution and its amendments, even the Bill of Rights, are, they are not sacrosanct.  

How could they be when they were written and adopted by wealthy oligarchs who owned hundreds of other human beings?  The second amendment, as you know, is one of the ten first amendments collectively known as the Bill of Rights.  Those amendments were adopted and ratified by the states in 1791, just 3 years after the Constitution itself was ratified.  One of the many things I did not learn in my high school history classes was the impact on American history of other events in the world, both near and far.  For example, as the French Revolution was raging in Europe beginning in 1789 the enslaved people in the French colony of Saint-Dominique began a revolt for their freedom.  That revolt ended in 1803 as the only successful uprising of enslaved people in world history, and also won independence from France and established the nation we still know as Haiti.  

That unrest just 700 miles from Southern Florida was of great interest and concern to the plantation owners in the Southern states.  Just as free and enslaved Blacks greatly outnumbered their white masters on Haiti, so too did they in the Southern parts of the U.S.  

Fear of rebellion by the enslaved masses was a constant fear of plantation owners, including the shapers of the Constitution and four of our first five presidents: Washington, Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe, the latter being the primary author of the Bill of Rights.

So what gets omitted in our history text books is that a primary motivation for the inclusion of the second amendment in the Bill of Rights was a purely racist and capitalistic desire on the part of the enslavers to keep their “property” in enslavement.  

I believe it was Maya Angelou who said, “When you know better, you do better.”  It took from 1619 to 1865 for us to do better, i.e. abolishing the most flagrant form of slavery by the 13th amendment.  While that horrible wrong took an embarrassing 246 years to change and while we still have a long way to go to end the systemic racism upon which slavery was founded, my point is that laws can change if there is the political and moral will to do so.

We are the only “developed” nation in the world whose children are being butchered in schools by weapons of war.  We know how to fix this.  Other countries have dwelt swiftly and successfully with mass shootings, but our uniquely American greed for power and wealth by our politicians and gun manufacturers are more highly valued than 9 year old children.  

This should not be a partisan issue, but it has become one.  And because it has become a political issue instead of a human issue, and because it is Republican members of Congress who are owned by the NRA who are unwilling to even consider common sense solutions to this problem it is time to state the sad truth.  The only ways to stop these horrific killings is to vote Republicans out of office and replace them with people who care more about innocent lives than AR-15’s.  I say that as one who grew up a proud Republican in the 1950’s, but Lincoln and Eisenhower would not recognize what Trumpism has done to their party.  Just as amendments can change, so can political affiliation.  A majority of Americans favor common sense gun safety legislation.  We are tired of thoughts and prayers without action after every mass killing.  Unless Republicans start listening to their constituents instead of the NRA they must and will go the way of the dinosaurs.

On Mortality and Life Expectancy

I am officially in the season of my life when my friends are reminding me of our shared mortality.  No matter how hard we try to not be like our elders have been at our age, whenever we folks now  in our 70’s get together in person or on zoom, sharing of health concerns tends to dominate or at least infect our conversations.  I have for years had a dread of the time when one of my close friends dies, wondering when that may happen; and being grateful that I have been fortunate to reach 76 years without that experience.  But now I know it is not a question of if that will occur, but when. 

A year ago we lost a good friend who my wife had known for 40 plus years.  I had only shared that friendship with her for 8 or 9 years.  This year a good friend we’ve both known for 20 years is dying of lung cancer, and also two very good friends of mine whom I have known for over 50 years are facing possible life-threatening issues.  Given all that the familiar warning of John Donne to not “ask for whom the bell tolls” takes on a whole new existential meaning.

I was researching another topic the other day and came across some curious biblical passages that address but add no clarity to the familiar quandary we all wrestle with—how long can I expect to live.  On that topic Genesis 6:3 has God saying, “My spirit shall not abide in mortals forever, for they are flesh; their days shall be one hundred twenty years.”  That could be both good news and bad.  But only a chapter later we are told “Noah was six hundred years old when the flood of waters came on the earth.” (Genesis 7:6)  And to further muddy the waters (no pun intended)  Psalm 90:10 says, “The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away.”

If we want certainty about how long we can expect to live those verses certainly don’t help.  They were written by different authors in very different contexts; but here’s what they are saying to me.  No one really knows how long they will walk on this earth.  We can let that uncertainty drive us crazy, or we can make peace with it and live in the only time we really ever have – Today.  Some days it is easier to do that than others of course, but finding that peace that passes all human understanding always depends on how well we can surrender our doubts and fears to the very source of our life. 

Surrender is hard for us competitive type humans.  It sounds like defeat or loss, and most of us really hate losing.  But this kind of surrender is just the opposite.  It is victory at the deepest level to find relief from things we cannot conquer on our own but need to offer up to a higher power.  Prayer can take a multitude of forms, but it is the best way we have to connect with that higher power and simply trust in the goodness and mercy only God can give. 

As I was writing this, the words to an old hymn I have not sung for many years, but the lyrics to “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” by Joseph Scriven are still in my memory bank, and they really sum up this whole matter and many other mysteries of life very well.  Those lyrics in part say,

“O what peace we often forfeit,
 O what needless pain we bear,

 All because we do not carry
 Everything to God in prayer!”

Wild Goose Chase

When I was in Little League a hundred years ago, like every kid, I fancied myself a star shortstop, the most glamorous position on the diamond other than the pitcher.   A couple of things doomed that dream.  In addition to my diminutive size no one ever suggested I could improve my athletic chances by pumping some iron.  So I was the perfect poster boy for a 98-pound weakling.  My coaches very quickly determined I did not have the arm strength to play shortstop; so they moved me to second base where the throw to first base is much shorter.  

I was reminded of that experience this week and also learned what a “wild goose chase” is all about.  I came home from running errands one afternoon to find two Canadian geese floating on our quarter-acre pond as if they owned it.  I like birds, just not messy, nasty ones; so as I have done in the past I set about inviting said geese to move on to other water.  There are several other ponds in our neighborhood; so this seemed like a simple request.  All they had to do was fly across the road and they would have several other lovely ponds to choose from.  

When the geese ignored my suggestion that they move on I escalated my efforts, clapping my hands and raising my voice as I walked toward the pond.  They literally turned their backs on me and calmly paddled toward the other side of the pond.  To understand distances involved you need to know that it is about 40 yards or 120 feet across our pond.  By comparison the distance from deep short stop to first base on a Little League field is maybe 80 feet.  I point that out because last year when unwanted geese on our pond ignored my most persuasive rhetoric I found that throwing a small rock in their general direction was enough to get them to fly away.  I didn’t try to hit them, just scare them, and it worked.  That was last year.  This week when I tried that tactic the first stone I threw didn’t travel 40 feet before falling weakly into the drink.  

So I began circling the pond trying to scare the birds away and/or to get closer so I could frighten them with a rock splashing in their vicinity.  As I circled the pond the geese just kept calmly paddling around the pond away from me, and every effort I made at throwing a rock was feebler than the last.  After completely circumnavigating the pond, I was no closer to the dirty birds that when I started, and I swear I heard them laughing at me.  

And that got me wondering about where else that shows up in my life?  What other frustrating pursuits do I waste my time on? How about you?  Are there wild goose chases you need to give up?