Parole Letters

Last week, with much fanfare, Governor McDonnell introduced the new chair for the Virginia Parole Board. The Governor promised a new review on all parole eligible inmates. Less than 72 hours later, letters began arriving to parole eligible inmates who’d had their “hearings” in January (more on the hearing process later). As I saw these men react yet again to the disappointment of parole rejections, I couldn’t help but think of Roger Daltrey and The Who singing “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.”



A few months ago, as the new DOC director was sitting for interviews and describing to the public his “philosophy” of corrections, “my mission is to . . . rehabilitate,” I posed to him the rhetorical question “what kind of corrections director would Jesus be?” As I watched many of my friends receive their letters against the backdrop of the Governor’s smug pronouncement, I couldn’t help but ask “What would Jesus do?”


“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites? For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier provisions of the law; justice and mercy and faithfulness; but these are the things you should have done without neglecting others.”


Justice, mercy, faithfulness. Pretty simple pronouncement. Yet, placed against the backdrop of our current “Keep the criminals locked up” mantra, Jesus’ words seem so far out of reach. We hear daily about forgiveness, redemption and rehabilitation. Still, we as a society fail to practice what we preach.


Governor McDonnell is the duly elected Chief Executive Officer of the Commonwealth of Virginia. He could put his self-professed faith in action and begin a radical transformation of the current failed corrections model. Instead, he does the same thing his predecessors did. Its business as usual. “Keep ‘em locked up.” He continues with the lie that communities are safer under the bloated corrections bureaucracy that has seen the inmate population quadruple in just fifteen years. He oversees an unjust, merciless and unfaithful system.


If Jesus were here today, I believe he would say “Woe to you, Governor McDonnell, these are the things you should have done without neglecting the others.”


I do not make light of the serious nature of the crimes the men I write about committed. Many of the men I have developed deep bonds with are serving lengthy sentences for murder. I have asked myself repeatedly, what is an adequate punishment for taking a life? I don’t have an answer. There are, however, two conclusions I have reached.


First, in God’s eyes there is no difference between murder and an unforgiving heart; and second, everyone can be restored and redeemed.


This week, my friend Black was again turned down for parole. Black killed a man in a drug deal gone bad when he was nineteen. That was nineteen years ago. For the last nine years he has appeared and been rejected for parole. The same reason has been used in each rejection letter: “serious nature of the crime”. I ask this: if you can use the underlying crime as a basis for parole denial, why even bother with parole eligibility? Black has an exemplary inmate record. Under anyone’s definition of rehabilitate, Black meets the criteria. Crazier still, in less than three years, Black get out on mandatory parole. He will have served the maximum sentence time allowed. What is going to change about Black in the next three years?


At the time then Governor Allen hoodwinked Virginia’s voters into demanding abolishment of parole, there were 9,600 incarcerated people in Virginia’s prisons. Today, counting DOC inmates in regional jails with the prison population, there are approximately 40,000. 7,000 or so are still parole eligible, yet less than two percent are annually awarded parole. Historically, a parole eligible inmate received an annual, live hearing before the entire board. The board would hear from the inmate, question him, and review his prison record. Not so today. In its place, a parole examiner in Richmond holds a brief (fifteen minute) teleconference with the inmate. A computer generated report is circulated to the five board members and votes in favor or opposed to parole exchanged via email.


As the Gospel of John records, Jesus was confronted by the law-abiding Pharisees who presented a woman before him caught in the act of adultery. Facing her and those condemning her, He saw in her heart the brokenness and remorse for her sins.


He spoke so simply yet powerfully; “Carry out the law. Only, you that is free of sin, throw the first stone.”


When the crowd dispersed only He was left with the woman. In an act of justice, of mercy and of faithfulness, He told her “neither will I condemn you, go and sin no more.”


What kind of corrections director would Jesus be? What kind of parole board would He direct? What kind of Governor would Jesus approve of?


I am no theologian. I’m just a convicted felon serving a lengthy sentence for embezzlement, a sentence more severe than most sentences given child pornographers and second degree murderers. I’ve lost the woman I love, my sons and all my wealth. I sleep peacefully at night because I know God sees my heart, knows my brokenness and remorse.


I know in my heart Jesus would grant parole to Black, and DC, and Ty, and Saleem. I know in my heart Jesus would commute my sentence. That’s justice; that’s mercy; that’s faithfulness. And that is what God is demanding from the Governor, Director Clarke, all of us.