“They could have grieved privately, but they shared Matthew with us,” he said.
In a moving homily that elicited both tears and laughter, Robinson addressed Matthew, telling him “you are safe now.” He also thanked Matthew’s parents for their activism and recalled Judy, Matthew’s mom, extending him a comforting note during his 2003 consecration, during which he had to wear a bulletproof vest. Later, he explained he’d been “crying for a week now.” When greeting attendees-and extending a special welcome to members of the LGBTQ community-Robinson’s voice broke. Among the participating bishops was Gene Robinson, the first openly gay person to be made a bishop in the Episcopal Church. The 90-minute service included choirs, bishops’ sermons, and scripture readings. “We’ve now got a home for Matthew,” Shepard’s father, Dennis, told the congregation early on. The rainbow flag was on ribbons, on T-shirts, on scarves, on umbrellas, and on at least one impeccable bow tie. By the time the ceremony began at 10 AM, more than 2,000 people had found their way to the building that would soon become Shepard’s final resting pace.Īttendees brought plenty of color too, enough of it to compete with the cathedral’s kaleidoscopic stained-glass windows. They came in large numbers, forming a long line in front of the cathedral’s doors ahead of the public service’s start. Finally.īoth Washingtonians and out-of-towners came out to pay their respects. Today, the young gay man who became, through unspeakable tragedy, one of the most powerful figures in the LGBTQ rights movement was laid to rest. A bit over 20 years separated the cold Laramie night when Matthew Shepard was fatally attacked and the gray Washington morning of his delayed, cathartic interment at Washington National Cathedral.