When the Next Mass Shooting came, the Founding Father came back

  The founding father was back, for the next mass shooting. I watched him as he walked among the dead, leaning over each body, weeping.
  I followed for a while, saying nothing. Then I ventured, "It's kind of you to be here, and kind of you to be so concerned about those who have died."
  He grimaced. "In a way, maybe, this is being laid at my feet," he said.
  "How so?" I asked, in surprise.
   "The Constitution was -- is -- a wonderful document, and the Bill of Rights is, of course, part of that," he said.
   I nodded my head.
   "It was inspired," he said. "I am grateful to our Creator for that."
   I nodded, again.
   Then, he quoted, again, the Second Amendment. "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."
   Slowly, I nodded my head.
   "Now," he said, "if those words are inspired, you can't really bring about what your generation has come to call, 'gun control,' can you? You would be afraid to do that. You wouldn't dare."
   Thoughtfully, I nodded.
    "So, am I to be blamed for this?" He stretched out his hand out at the bodies before us.
    I shook my head.
    He sighed. "If we, your founding fathers, were here, do you think we'd have this all figured out?"
    I shook my head, but only because I could see that's what he was driving at. "No," I whispered.
   "We'd be in the same boat as you. We'd have to figure out what to do."
    I nodded.
   "Some of us might think one way, and some of us the other -- same as you," he said.
   He paused, a steeled look crossing into his eyes. As he spoke, he emphasized each word, knowing what he was saying might come as a shock to me. "We would want to consider if some forms of weaponry should be banned."
   He sighed. The steeled look in his eyes disappeared. "Oh, forgive me. Yes, I would consider this thing you call 'gun control. But, I do not know whether the others would -- or how far they would be willing to go."
   I had quit nodding. Now, I stood perfectly still, my head as if frozen, my eyes staring back at him.
   "If we were here," he said, "many of us would want to consider everything: Who should have guns, and if there can there be too many. All the questions that you face, we would also face. Your generation has said we were wise. Well, this is the nature of being wise: You consider all things, and you consider both sides. Wisdom doesn't come prepackaged. You either put in the effort to think things out, or you go with your biases and do without wisdom. You don't arrive at wisdom without thinking a matter through."
   I swallowed, pursed my own lips, and thought to myself, "Speaking of wisdom, the words you just barely uttered are wise." I didn't say it out loud.
   He smiled.
    "Consider well what I have said," he offered. "If the founding fathers were here, they -- we -- would have to consider these things, same as you, for if we didn't weigh and consider them, we could no longer be considered wise -- and, if you are to be wise, you must do the same."
   He smiled, again, then he continued, "You have some hard things to do -- a lot to consider. And, if you end up deciding to place restrictions on guns, what will you do? Will you rewrite the Second Amendment? I'm sure that is a difficult question, for if you don't change up the Second Amendment, you will, indeed, be ignoring the Constitution."
   He paused. I nodded.
   "You might be stuck with what we gave you. There might not be the political bravery to change even one word of the Second Amendment.
   He looked again at the bodies scattered across the floor. "You see why I say this is being left at our feet -- why, in a way, I and the others are being left to blame for all this?"
(Note: Blog rewritten 10/7/17)