Reclaiming the Rainbow

I know, I know, I just wrote an article inspired by my four-year-old's eye for colors. But she's my lens now. She and her sister refresh my memory of other shades than grey and black. We were driving along yesterday and Sonya exclaimed, "A rainbow flag!" And I said, "Isn't that beautiful?" And then I thought, "Yeah, dammit, it is beautiful. And it's ours."

If the quiltbag of LGBTQIA&c. want to use the rainbow as their symbol, that's their prerogative; "He maketh His sun to shine on both the evil and the good, and His rain to fall on both the just and the unjust alike" (Matthew 5:45). But the rainbow was put there for Noah. Or more accurately, for Noah and his descendants--the ones who went on to bear His other Ark across the desert, and went on further to bear His final Ark in the womb of St. Anne, mother of Our Lady, who became the bearer of the New Covenant Himself. Not the ones who founded the ill-fated city of Gomorrah and its twin.

The word "gay" is lost to us. And that's fine; words change. But not the Eternal Arch of Triumph. Not the encircling arm of the Father's promise. I'm perfectly happy to share the rainbow. But I will not give it up for lost.

I see I'm beginning to repeat myself rather badly in these articles; I'll have to take a hiatus before I become a recursive vortex of self-referentiality and disappear forever into my own navel. But, by virtue of Good's resplendent colors and Evil's sagging drab, I beg leave to mention just one more previous article of my own authoring. And now I should probably go read a book and learn something new, for goodness' sake. God bless you all this Lent!