It was a cold winter morning sometime before my 10th birthday. I distinctly remember the anticipation as I listened to the sound of leaves crunching with every step of my new boots. I knew where we were going; I had been there many times.
About a mile into the woods was a clearing where my grandfather’s land met Sweetwater Creek just before it merges with the muddy Chattahoochee. I could walk this path with my eyes closed, and often still do when I dream. It was a site of many family picnics, hikes and fishing trips that looked different this day, probably because our purpose for going there was new to me.
Alex Gallimore |
It was a rite of passage in my family of gun owners. Long before hunting, young sportsmen learn to shoot mistletoe. As my grandfather, father and I approached our destination, I remained strong and silent trying to hide my emotions. For the first time I was allowed to carry a gun, a small single-shot 4/10 that I still have to this day. I was so proud and humbled, thrilled and terrified.
When we reached the creek, my father loaded my gun and positioned me next to a tree. He pointed to a small bundle of mistletoe dangling loosely above the opposite bank and after guiding my aim, gave me the OK to pull the trigger. Those few seconds felt like an eternity. I finally found the courage, discharged the shell, and immediately hit the ground. Not expecting the recoil, the hammer kicked-back into my nose and left me dazed. As blood dripped down my face I remember sitting up to see my father hanging over the creek in an effort to catch the gun before it hit the water. My grandfather let out a proud chuckle at both of us.
I grew up around firearms — shotguns, hunting rifles and a few pistols hidden for home defense. My father always kept our guns locked safely out of reach in his gun cabinet and although I knew where he kept the key, going anywhere near it would reap harsher penalties than touching the Ark of the Covenant. My grandfather’s home still contains enough firearms and ammunition to successfully defend the Alamo. They are the source of many family stories every time we gather together. For us, guns are heirlooms and tools.
I share that story because I have wanted, for quite some time, to comment on the many discussions surrounding gun control since the December shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, Conn. Beneath my cosmopolitan exterior is a moderately active sportsman who loves the smell of gunpowder on a cool fall afternoon and was once payed $1 for every squirrel he killed in his great-great-grandmother’s yard. While that bloodshed ended with the forced consumption of squirrel dumplings, it was a hobby I enjoyed.
I understand the fears many gun-owners share when political discussions turn to control. In my family, the Second Amendment was sometimes more important than the First. Actually, in the socio-religious imagination of my Southern childhood, God and guns were dependent upon one another.
Then came Columbine, Virginia Tech, Fort Hood, Aurora and Newtown, with countless others in-between, including the slaying of Treyvon Martin by George Zimmerman, a “law abiding citizen” with a concealed weapons permit.
Such violence has led me to reflect on my own gun ownership and rights as an American and compare it to the gospel, where I find Jesus’ haunting challenge to “love one another as I have loved you” and “to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
I don’t think Jesus was asking his disciples to take bullets for one another, or to sacrificially defend one another with the sword. In fact, when Peter tries to do just that, Jesus rebukes him and when the disciples ask Jesus if they should gather weapons for revolution, he sarcastically says enough is enough.
As Christians, especially gun-owning American Christians, I think we have a responsibility to love our neighbors as Jesus has commanded us by laying down our lives for them. Just because we have a right to own particular weapons doesn’t mean that we should, especially with the growing threat of such guns in the hands of the mentally ill. I think as Christians we should be the ones leading the charge to improve and reform our gun laws by setting the example for others.
While there may be some who want to round up everyone’s guns, we should not let such extreme proposals prevent responsible actions forward. As Christians we must be the voice of reason and communicate that laying down AR-15s and high capacity magazine for others does not mean giving up rights to home defense handguns, hunting rifles and shotguns. We can set the example by demanding background checks and registration before every sell, limiting the amount of guns on the black market and embrace health care reform which takes mental illness seriously.
For gun-owning American Christians, ours has always been a gun-powdered gospel and will continue to be just that. As followers of Jesus, however, we must make sure we do not allow our faith to become a gospel of gunpowder. May we have the courage and the wisdom to know the difference.
Alex Gallimore ([email protected]) is pastor of Hester Baptist Church in Oxford, N.C.