You are a regular patron of my place of employment. I always knew you were a priest of some sort, but I didn't know until recently that you are the archbishop leading the Catholic Church's fight against gay marriage in Washington.

It just so happens that I am a gay man who was sexually abused by a priest from the ages of 7 to 10. And yet, despite my visceral revulsion to everything you symbolize, despite the fact that I am retraumatized every time I am forced to be in the same room with you and your collar, and despite the fact that my partner of 17 years thinks I should spit in your face and tell you to go fuck off and die, I will continue to afford you the same courtesy and respect I would any other person who walks through that door.

Because I was raised to be a good Christian.