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The Broadcast About Matthew
I have not been able to finish watching the documentary on the ID channel about the brutally homophobic murder of Matthew Shepard. The details of is abduction, the beating that very nearly crushed the life from his body, and the aftermath are too terrible for me, in my condition, to take in all at once.
I am deeply, deeply ashamed that a part of American society, the homophobic population of the state of WhyOhming created a venue in which this kind of murder and martyrdom could have taken place. And I am outraged---and yes, I will call it contempt of court---that a court in Wyoming allowed Matthew's assailants to continue to live, even though their lives are incarcerated. I am sure they get three square meals a day, a nice bed to sleep in, a roof over their heads, and opportunities for recreation and rehabilitation. They deserved the death penalty, and the Wyoming court lacked the balls to impose it. But they also deserve eternal agony while writhing on skewers in the most searing and burining pit of Hell; and I pray most sincerely that their reservation there has already been made.
And on top of these turbulences of shame and outrage, I feel the deepest sorrow for Matthew. And, by God and Christ in whom you, Thornin Myside, do not believe, I will not be told that Matthew is not in Heaven with Jesus. He is in Heaven, and I hope he is enjoying a barefoot frolic among the stars that he can see much better than we can, even with our Hubble and Webb telescopes.
As if to give me a sign of confirmation about Matthew's whereabouts, our gracious Lord Jesus allowed my random browsing to bring me to find, on the Internet, a beautiful painting entitled The Ascension Of Matthew Shepard by the artist, Carl Grauer. I urge anyone who reads this essay to look it up: it is breathtakingly beautiful, spiritual, and comforting. That I found it by random browsing, when I was not looking for such, indicates to me that Jesus allowed me to find it as a confirmation of my Faith that He has received Matthew unto Himself. Ten thousand clodhopping words from Thornin Myside are as nothing when compared to this gift my Savior as bestowed on me, to be comforted that Matthew is safe with Him, and enjoying that barefoot frolic among the stars.
I think, but I am not entirely sure, that it was C. S. Lewis who declared that, when the Christian poet and novelist Charles Williams died unexpectedly from unusual complications following an apendectomy, Heaven seemed more real to Lewis knowing that Williams was not living there. I can say the same about Matthew's presence there. I truly believe I am in the last segment of the last stage of my life. I do not know how much time I have left, or how much more pain I can endure before it short-circuits me out. I am a devout, if very flawed, Christian; and my Lord the Christ has allowed me to experience a little more of the prospect of Heaven's reality, by finding that painting by Grauer.
Matthew, the state of WhyOhming was unworthy to be your residence. The homophobic elements that still lurk about our nation are unworthy to have breathed the same air that you, Matthew, breathed. This nation bears the stain of your blood, which will never be removed until Homohobia is shunned, persecuted, and finally eradicated. And Matthew, when the time comes for my flesh to die, and my soul to be released to God Who gave it (and Love is God, the designer and sustainer of the Cosmos), I hope you are one of the first of the Saints I meet. You were murdered and martyred, like the early Christians were; and you have joined their company already. I have always wanted to meet them; but, I want to meet you just as much. Pray for me, Matthew, I need your pure and righteous prayers.
Starward
