Blind but Now I See

It never ceases to astound me what insight I gain in this place. There are two men I’ve written about before who I have the highest regard for. DC, who has been incarcerated since 1972 and Ty, who has been locked up since 1980. Both men are simply decent, compassionate, gentlemen. While they both committed acts of violence that led to their imprisonment, neither deserves to still be here. Justice demands otherwise. Mercy demands otherwise.



I began reading John Grisham’s latest bestseller the other evening. The Confession is the story of an innocent man on death row. It is also the story of a young Lutheran minister who feels called by God to do something, anything, to stop the execution. It is the story of hypocrisy as church members, “good, Christian” men and women miss the fundamental message of their professed faith.


What would Jesus do? I asked in a recent blog the rhetorical question what kind of director of corrections would Jesus be? Throughout much of these past two and a half years I’ve read and prayed and tried to understand what God requires of me. What was I to do with my life after I so badly mangled it up to this point?


I thought about my own church involvement. I was an active member of my church, but I was a lousy Christian. Then again my church wasn’t much better.


After my arrest my own minister refused to visit me at the jail. He didn’t want to get caught up in my marital and legal troubles. With the exception of a close friend who’s a member of the congregation and an elderly farmer who testified on my behalf at my sentencing, not one member of my church “family” has even stayed in touch with me.


Even though I’m still a member, my birthday is left off the calendar. The new minister has never written me or visited. Not one member of our church family ever suggested to my then wife what Jesus taught about marital love and commitment.


As the young man on death row confessed to his loss of faith, the Lutheran minister stated “God’s people are often wrong Donte! But God is never wrong. You can’t blame Him.”


What would Jesus do? I’ve watched with much bemusement as talking heads on both sides of the aisle offer sound bites about the tragic shooting in Arizona. I’ve heard much about the victims and still more about the twisted mind of the shooter. Here’s what I didn’t hear: God loves the young man who did this horrible thing – what’s more, He expects His people to love him as well and show him mercy and forgiveness.


What would Jesus do? Would Jesus approve of the death penalty? I doubt it. Would Jesus approve of Virginia’s “corrections” department? I don’t think so.


Fact is, I’ve come to understand that most of what we consider as characteristics of successful church membership and citizenship has absolutely nothing to do with being a Christian. In fact, our mileposts of “good living” are contrary to what the Lord requires of us.


I believe Jesus judges us by the kindness in our hearts, the love, compassion, mercy and forgiveness we show. Under that standard my friends DC, Ty, Saleem, Big S and thousands of other incarcerated persons would be free. “Then neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”


Yesterday morning with tears rolling down my cheeks, I said my prayers in the silence and darkness of the building. For the first time since my divorce was final, I thanked God for all that has happened to me since my arrest. God wasn’t responsible for my arrest, I was. God didn’t divorce me. My wife did. God has loved me every step of the way. Friends bailed out; my wife really didn’t love me, she didn’t believe in the vows we took, But God stayed with me.


I thought about the men I’ve met in here, thought about how my entire world view has been turned upside down.


I sat in the law library the other night at a loss to come up with the words to help a young man on his case. I don’t know where it came from, but I suddenly found myself typing out a section from the Gospel of John, trying to argue that we must look in a person’s heart, their soul to understand remorse.


Ty was working that night. In his deep, bass monotone he told me I was inspiring men here who long ago had given up hope. How ironic, I thought. The woman I loved – and still love – never once told me I was inspiring. My kids never felt inspired by me. I was just “there”. They’ve shown these past two and a half years I wasn’t that important in their lives. I’m sad about that, but so grateful for what I feel about them.


I read Paul’s conversion experience this morning, how he was struck blind then three days later could “see”. I love that imagery.


“I once was lost and now am found; was blind and now I see.” My eyes have been opened. God loves the incarcerated. He loves terrorists and terror victims. He loves the self righteous as they sit in their church pews on Sundays. He loves my ex-wife even though she divorced me and He loves me even after stealing $2 million.


He loves and forgives us all. What would Jesus do? Look around and tell me. We all could do better. God always does His best.


I may be wrong, but I think He’d tell you to work for justice, end suffering, forgive, reconcile and love. Pretty simple, straight forward message. Like most things with God, it all comes down to seeing things His way.