51

Have you ever felt completely alone, empty, defeated? You aren’t alone. Perhaps it is the inherent nature of being human. Somehow suffering it seems, is as natural as breathing. For some, the moment of desperation and deep-felt anguish is just apparent happenstance, the proverbial wrong place at the wrong time phenomena. For most, it traces back to an errant decision, a momentary lapse in judgment, that brief ego-driven moment when we think we know all the risks. We rationalize away our infidelity, or dishonesty and proceed forward until …

            Call it pride; call it karma; or, call it sin, but we do reap what we sow. And the anguish, the sense of shame and fear and desperation roils through our very soul as we call out “Why? Why God? Why have you forsaken me?” I lived that moment. It was five days after my arrest, the five worst days (or so I thought) of my life. Everything I knew and believed immediately before 8:35 a.m. on that prior Monday was gone. The subsequent days leading to that Saturday morning had been beyond comprehension. In that short period of time I lost everything: my family, my wealth, friends, employment, and reputation. I was, quite literally, in hell. And, it was a hell of my own design.

            You see, there was no one to blame but me. I did it all. Oh, there were reasons, justifications I had for doing what I did. And when life was running smoothly, they helped me to stay numb to my misdeeds. Or did they? In hindsight, the scotch, and the gambling junkets, and the buying – constantly buying “things” – did more to numb my conscience than the rationalization. The guilt was always there.

            It all came out that Saturday morning in a dirty jail cell. For the first time in what seemed like forever I told God everything. I had betrayed my conscience, violated the vows I’d made as a husband and father, and failed to be an honest steward of all the gifts and responsibilities placed in my control. I couldn’t stand myself; I couldn’t live with what I did.

            Looking back to that horrible Saturday almost five years ago I realize my experience wasn’t unique. It goes all the way back to the beginning. We are, I now understand, a fraternity of broken men and women.

            David, the Old Testament describes, was favored in God’s eyes. It was understandable. His heart was purposely turned to his God. David had shown incredible bravery throughout his life. He trusted God no matter what and did what the Lord commanded. As a young man he had destroyed his nation’s enemies. He patiently waited for his day to assume the throne. Under his leadership Israel became a powerful nation.

            But David got lazy and prideful. Instead of leading his army into battle – as required – he stayed in Jerusalem. And on a lazy day, gazing from his palace balcony, he saw her, Bathsheba. She was beautiful and he wanted her and, as King, he had her even though she was married. Bathsheba became pregnant further complicating David’s misdeed. David did what unfortunately so many of us do. Knowing Bathsheba’s husband was away fighting David created an elaborate hoax. He tried lies and deceit, bringing husband Uriah back from the front in hopes of getting him to sleep with Bathsheba to hide his own actions. When that failed, David grew desperate and ordered Uriah placed at the front of the troops in a perilous position. And Uriah died in battle.

            The Old Testament records that after a period of mourning, Bathsheba moved in with David. Israel did not know. David had escaped detection; except, God is all knowing. The story recounts that the Prophet Nathan confronted David. “The Lord knows,” he told his King. David collapsed in shame and regret. He had sinned and betrayed his God.

            There is no more poignant Psalm than “51.” In it, David cries out to his God confessing his sin and begging for forgiveness. Anyone who has ever failed, who has ever gone against what he or she knows is right, understands exactly what David felt as he poured out his soul.

            And God forgave David. But, there were consequences for his sin. The baby Bathsheba carried died. David’s family would forever bear the scars from his misdeed. The consequences, we must learn, usually exceed the sin.

            On that Saturday in that jail cell I knew exactly how David felt. I knew I would go to prison. I knew my wife would divorce me. I knew friends would forsake me. And I knew I couldn’t go on. But God had another plan in mind. And at my worst, my loneliest and most desperate, I felt the presence of my God. It was enough to keep me going. Each day thereafter I thought and prayed “Just see me through today, God.”

            So began my journey through jail and the criminal justice system, prison, divorce and loneliness and – at times – hopelessness. I’ve gained insight into my own failings and the failings of the corrections system. As I watch each day from inside these fences, how prison fails at its self-defined mission to humanely treat the incarcerated and prepare them to return to society as law-abiding citizens, I think of David and the adulterous woman saved from stoning by Christ.

            People are redeemable. That is a tough statement to swallow given humanity’s propensity for murder and mayhem. Our history is a series of bloodlettings, violence, and inhumanity to our fellow man. But God loves all His children and stands ready to throw His arms around the worst.

            Prisons fail because they talk of redemption and rehabilitation but they are constructed for retribution and revenge. And those policies are contrary to Godly justice. Prison makes people refuse to atone and accept responsibilities for their wrongs. It leaves both victim and victimizer embittered and empty. There is a reason one out of three released inmates are re-incarcerated within a year and two of three within three years. Nothing currently being done by the Virginia Department of Corrections in the name of re-entry will change those results. Change, David and the adulterous woman’s story tell us, only comes from within.

            For prison to redeem and rehabilitate a new paradigm must be utilized that reaches the core humanity of each person. When Jesus told the adulterous woman, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more,” He did so understanding the shame, guilt, and remorse she felt. You want to rehabilitate and restore and make law-abiding inmates productive citizens in their communities you must tap into that spiritual bottoming out.

            I’ve seen enough in these past few years to know what is currently being pedaled as justice and corrections is neither. Too many lives are being lost. Too many victims are left feeling aggrieved; too many families and communities are in turmoil; and too many dollars are wasted.

            There is a better way.