Archive for the ‘Ministry’ Category

It’s time to grow up

December 10, 2009

As I read the last paragraph of an article in this morning’s St. Louis Post-Dispatch on the single-drug method for execution in Ohio, I was reminded of a line in the Gethsemane song,  I only want to say, from the Rock Opera, Jesus Christ Superstar:

Show me there’s a reason
For your wanting me to die
You’re far too keen on where and how
But not so hot on why

The writer of the article says at the end, “A milestone has passed. Now maybe the long death penalty debate on ‘how’ can return to ‘whether.'”

Those are my sentiments as well. For the past few years, as suit after suit was heard in the courts, the focus has been on the three-drug protocol for execution used in most states. Is it unconstitutional? Does it amount to cruel and unusual punishment? I figured, Why not? Anything that holds any part of the process up to the light is bound to pay off in the long run. I also believe that anything not founded on truth will eventually collapse under its own weight.

But now, I’m afraid, the Ohio result will open the flood gates. Attorneys general in several states will feel a need (for some unknown reason) to clear death row backlogs. It’s as though their constituents have any idea who is on death row or what their crimes may have been. The AGs must picture an angry crowd, with flickering torches, milling about the jailhouse door.

The facts of the matter are these: Walk up to anyone on any street in Missouri and ask, 1.) How many men are on death row?, 2.) Who is the next person likely to be executed?, 3.) Who was the last person executed (as recently as May 20)?, 4.) What did that person do? 5.) Where are death row prisoners housed?, 6.) Where do executions take place? After six shrugs, or six I dunnos, you’d certainly wonder what the point is.

But, our state (and our society in general) is big on revenge … even when people don’t know who is being executed or why. There is an irrational fear of, and a need to get rid of, people who pose no threat, are defenseless, couldn’t afford good legal representation. There is a persistent myth that an execution gives a victim’s family closure. All this in the face of the fact that the United States is the only developed western nation that executes its own citizens. Isn’t that nice?

Should capital offenders ever go free? No. I feel they have forfeited their right to live freely among us.

Is an alternative sentence of life without parole a piece of cake? No. Visit a maximum security prison sometime.

Is it more expensive to house a capital offender for the rest of his life than to execute him? No. It is a mere fraction of the execution costs to house an offender until he dies.

Is the death penalty a common sentence for murder? No. Less that 2% of murders result in a death sentence.

Getting back to the beginning, “whether” rather than “how,” I  hope that our country will mature out of our wild west temperament. It’s time to grow up and realize when we have adequately defended ourselves against dangerous criminals.

There is little justification for depriving another family of a loved one if losing a loved one is so hurtful. Vengeance doesn’t bring anyone back. The pangs of loneliness for and the sense of loss of a loved one who was a victim of murder won’t go away because another’s life was snuffed out.

But we’ll keep trying

May 11, 2009

This morning, I drove down to the prison holding the offender scheduled for execution next Wednesday, May 20. We met one-on-one in a small room, no handcuffs, no correctional officer standing at our shoulder.

For the past three Mondays, I have repeated the same trip. Today’s was my last. Our total of four hours together have been simply remarkable. If only everyone in the state could be there to see, hear, listen, understand. The death penalty wouldn’t be long for this world.

But that can’t be the case, and I’m afraid the myth of “closure” and our culture of revenge with no thought of nor attempt at forgiveness will prevail. Blind punishment regardless of obvious redemption … adding another death, another family’s loss, another loved one taken away …  that is the illogical impact  of  state-sanctioned killing.

But we’ll keep trying. I wrote to the Governor as another voice for clemency.

Politics are always involved

May 10, 2009

Tomorrow may be my last conversation with the Missouri offender who has an execution date this month. There is a chance, however, that his sentence will be commuted. How can I say that? Unless the whole clemency process is a charade, I don’t see how he … of all people … wouldn’t be commuted to life without parole.

But stranger things have happened, especially when politics are involved. And politics are always involved.

A blessing beyond measure

May 7, 2009

Last Saturday marked the eighth anniversary of my work as a volunteer chaplain at a maximum security prison. Eight years which have transformed my life.

How did all this unfold?

I retired at end of ’96 from a career of engineering, manufacturing, and executive management.

Having retired, I went back to school to study theology.

Studying theology, I wanted a means to express what I learned.

To express what I learned, I majored in preaching.

Majoring in preaching required a venue for my internship

A venue for internship came to be a jail/prison environment

Working in a prison environment led to the lay chaplain role I am now in.

So, eight years of ministering to those in solitary confinement have given me the confidence to minster to those awaiting execution, have led to more impactful preaching at prison prayer services, have made me a more patient listener to those who struggle, have prepared me for a whole spectrum of emerging spiritualities, have been a blessing beyond measure.

I go with confidence

April 26, 2009

An article by Christopher Buckley in the New York Times Magazine is very much worth  reading. A mixture of laughter and sadness.

Tomorrow I will visit with a man who has an execution date of May 20. My intention is to visit him at least once per week until then. While not sure of what I will say, I go with confidence that our time together will be good.

Is that why I stand in awe?

April 24, 2009

Last Friday, I had the opportunity to preach on John 20:19-31 at a communion service in a maximum security prison.

For so long, that reading had held the “Doubting Thomas” sort of appeal for me. Did he actually touch the wounds or not? That sort of thing.

Then I went through the stage of finding it incredible that Jesus’ first words to the gathered disciples … those guys who had abandoned him, had fled into hiding leaving him to be beaten and executed … were “Peace be with you.”

On Friday, my focus was to explore, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

But yesterday morning, while driving to the prison, there came to me out of nowhere, “Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.'”

With that invitation, Thomas replied, “My Lord and my God!” Thomas’ sudden awareness arose in the close proximity of Jesus’ suffering, the nail holes in his hands and feet, and the gaping wound in his side. Those perfect symbols of his Passion made present, to Thomas, our loving and gracious God.

In my prison work, in my ministering to men in isolation, have I too been invited to “touch” those wounds? Is that why I stand in awe at the divine presence made manifest in those despised, abandoned, forgotten, and suffering men? Do I hear, “Thomas, put your fingers here and see my hands.”? And in my inner-most being do I reply, “My Lord and my God.”?

Why did all this occur to me as I drove to the prison yesterday? Maybe it is because I have been struggling for eight years to understand how I can find joy and peace in such a horrible and demeaning environment. When I leave the prison, there is a lingering sadness yet a clear feeling of hope. For days, the faces and voices of those men move among and through my thoughts and reflections.  For me, Jesus’ statement in Matthew 25, “I was in prison, and you visited me,” is not a figure of speech.  It’s real. He’s there in the collective suffering and despair.

Yesterday was a tough day. Three of the men I visited face the prospect of execution in the next several months.  Another is in a legal limbo with the death penalty a very real possibility. But I have found that letting them talk through their anxieties and fears is a way to take those fears out of their imaginations, and out of their guts, and to put a voice, their voice, the spoken word to their grim reality.

I’m afraid that from now on I will see those wounds … waiting for me to touch … waiting for me to acknowledge that this work is of a most sacred nature. Through him, with him, and in him.