When do we forgive?

"A society can be gauged by how it treats its prisoners," a quote attributed to Fyodor Dostoevsky, Russian author of Crime and Punishment and Brothers Karamazov, among others. We often interpret this to mean we can tell how cruel, or hopefully compassionate, our society is by checking out what lies behind the razor wire. From what I've seen, we aren't gauging too well.

2 things I am thinking about currently: The prison system is based on "cost-effectivness vengeance" and the greater society is on a continuum with those imprisoned.

First off, prisons are, or at least attempt to be, cost-effective and by all standards no longer are focused on rehabilitation, but rather generally just offer a "culturally acceptable" arena for vengeance. In a recent meeting last Wednesday at a truck stop diner off of I-75, the entire class sat, listened, and conversed with Randy Loney, author and former professor at Auburn University and Mercer to name a couple. Randy, author of Dreams of a Tattered Man, has spent a great deal of his life ministering to those who have been sentenced to die by the state of Georgia. The 2 hour conversation revolved around the stories from death row that have significantly altered his life. They were stories of a prisoner pulling together what meager items they had into a care package for his daughter who lost everything in Hurricane Katrina; Grandparents visiting a grandson who murdered his parents for years as he worked through his demons to a point where he could finally ask for forgiveness; prisoners serving each other a contraband communion of crackers and fermented grape juice around bars and walls of the cell. As Randy speaks of these stories, they are stories of transcendence.

These instances of the transcendence of life and spirit occur when people desire a connection with another, even when one person has committed great transgressions and caused great hurt upon the lives of others. A great problem lies in the structure of prison institutions that do not allow prisoners to have contact visits with their own family and prisoners are not allow to contact relatives of their victims. Yes, many, many victims families do not wish or have not come to a point in their grieving process to even begin to think about looking the person who has inflicted harm upon their loved ones in the face. Many states, especially Texas, allows victims families to view executions in order to complete their grieving process. The questions that has continually been stuck in my mind through visits, readings, and conversations is where is reconciliation and do we really want to offer forgiveness? As Randy put it, "the well has been poisoned." We are "stuck in a rut" so to speak in our thinking of our prisons. Prisons have always been around, there is little to no new thinking, new ideas.

Here things get a little more tricky. I have very intrigued by what Mark Taylor, a professor at Princeton Theological Seminary, as well as our own Stan Saunders say about the thought of our own society being on a continuum with our prison system and the idea prisons are a microcosm of our culture. Prisons are a miniature world in themselves. They have their own social systems and dynamics, they revolve around strict regulations of time and acceptable practices, they are governed by a number of hierarchies, and are populated by sinners. Now look at our society: populated by sinners (can't get around that), governed by a number of hierarchies (families, political governments), most of our lives revolve around the strictures of time and cyclical practices although ours is a much less intensive structure (punching the clock each morning).

All in all, through our prison system we are seeking some semblance of control, and striving in our sinfulness to separate the righteous from the unrighteousness. I also find it disturbing that we often times disengage and disconnect our lives from the lives of others through isolating electronic communication, shutting our doors, and drawing our blinds. We punish/"protect" inmates by not allowing them to have that contact that we ourselves overlook, or simply ignore.

I don't know where an answer is to my questions or the ramifications of our apathy, but I know that the greatest commonality among humanity is that we are all sinners. Whether inside the prison institution or in the greater prison-like society, we are all linked by the fact that we are controlled through the forces of sin and death, and Jesus Christ conquered both. That's the subversive message of the gospel.

"If you ride with the devil, you're gonna have to let him drive"

Today, my 2nd chaplaincy trip to the Georgia state prison in Jackson, was 2 1/2 hours of real conversation. I met with 4 different guys, 3 permanents and 1 diagnostic. Each of them had a different story to tell, different things on their mind, but each one was seeking time to be human. I think this time I received more help than I gave....



First off, the diagnostic inmate I met with (diagnostics are those who are being held and processed at Jackson until a transfer or placement into a permanent cell-block) was there simply to get signed up for a bible study class. I put him on the list right away, and Mr. Almond, an older African-American man, stood up thanked me and began to go on his way. I chuckled and said "You know you can hang out here for a bit and talk." Eyes wide, Mr. Almond responded, "That would be great! Don't really want to go back to my cell." As I spoke with Mr. Almond, whom I realized can quote more Scripture (very well in fact) than I could, I was shocked to learn that his family was never informed of his transfers among the last couple of prisons. He would have to wait to be processed, then send a snail-mail letter, telling his family where he was. He had just received word that his brother, a purple-heart award Iraqi war veteran, is deathly ill. He came in search of prayer, in search of comfort. He came complaining about the young guys he was placed with on his cell block, that they were in need of direction and mentoring. He came looking for all these things and found me. I'm a young man, as Mr. Almond continuously reminded me. For about half an hour, I sat there and let Mr. Almond teach me and share with me all the amazing bits of wisdom that he had accumulated over his lifetime. The two most memorable being: "Sometimes you just gotta give God's will a chance, and then see what happens," & "If you chose to ride with the devil, you're gonna have to let him drive."

I met with Bobby again today. He continued to share stories of his problems with the guards harassing him, his praying for patience, and the little ways he tries to show love inside a love-less place. Bobby is one of the most constantly happy people I have ever met, and I've met Nick Setzer. Talking with him is just simply a pleasure. Aside from recounting the dehumanizing stories of guard encounters and complaining about eating the same food day in and day out (something I can easily relate to), talking with Bobby feels like talking to an old friend. His greatest source of hope, aside from the Word, comes in the knowledge that his stay at prison is not indefinite. Before he left, right after he finished making plans for me to come to his house for a cook-out and beer, he said with a huge smile on his face, "I'm getting baptized! And not just me, I got a buddy gettin' it too!" From a church numbers standpoint - 2 adult baptisms at one time is pretty freakin' good. From a Christian standpoint - "You are my son, my beloved, with you I am well pleased!"

I've got more to reflect on for this visit later. Right now I'm simply caught up in the realization that my time is so blessed by the faith of these men I visit with. God is good!