Lessons From Dennie

The former Speaker of the House of Representatives, Dennis Hastert, agreed the other day to plead guilty to federal charges stemming from his payment of over $3.5 million in "hush money" to a young man Hastert used to coach back in the 1960s. The charge involves him failing to file proper federal financial disclosures on payments he made WITH HIS OWN MONEY. Apparently, that is a crime; worse for Hastert, when asked about it, he lied to the feds...a big no no (just ask Bill Clinton and Martha Stewart). But what's really troubling about this case is that someone in the federal prosecutor's office "leaked the info" that Hastert was paying hush money to a former high school wrestler. Innuendo piled on innuendo and before you knew it, the word was out that Hastert was hiding a sex crime from his days as a high school coach.

Whether or not he did commit a sex crime (and the Illinois police have already said there cannot be any prosecution for it) the Hastert case raises troubling question about people leaking info and the resulting effect. And yes, the point of this is to the troller (anonymous) who apparently likes to hide behind his/her purported anonymity and write things about me that he/she proclaims are "facts."

Everyone's life has dark moments and failures/errors--including anonymous. And here’s something anonymous should remember: there is no such thing as anonymity in the world. Answers to blogs leave traces and I can figure out who reads and who doesn't. And I wonder, knowing that if "anonymous" would be so forward and confrontational knowing they are just one more blog post from their life's foibles being exposed.

See, people love to hide behind the curtain and say things as "fact." But here's a real fact: the truth always comes out and when you leave telltale signs (such as use of the expressions "POS" or logging on to the blog, you make yourself known).

Am I a thief--yes. Not proud of it, but that's what I did. Does my crime justify prison time? You bet. I told the sentencing judge that. But that doesn't mean the system isn't rigged, nor does it mean that what is going on inside DOC at a cost of $1.23 billion this year is smart or efficient for the taxpayers of this state. Nor does it answer the question, "is this how a moral and just society should act"?

Dennis Hastert may have broken some obscure federal finance law (a law we all should be concerned about) but does that mean his entire life should be played out in front of the world?

During Jesus' ministry on earth there was only one group he ever condemned, one group he ever challenged--it was the Pharisees, those self-important, legalistic purveyors of "truth" who couldn't see their own failings yet were quick to pass judgment and condemn all those around them.

So anonymous, keep reading--you increase my readership and my exposure; but be ready to see your own life flashed across the small screen. I wonder how reading your worst moments will feel? Me... I know what I am and who I am and where I've come from. Now who's the POS?

Pascua Mensaje

I’m learning Spanish, mostly by fits and starts. It’s a tough process for a guy my age especially in here with the never ending distractions of broken, stupid men doing foolish self-destructive things. The language is beautiful. There’s a reason it’s one of the romance languages; it just sounds beautiful.

            I find it easier to read Spanish than speak it. My accent isn’t great. The words on the paper, however, make sense. And, I read an Easter message – “Pascua Mensaje” in Spanish which made sense to me. It was about the three parables told in Luke 15 about the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son. The writer said the parables’ meaning is determined by where you’re sitting when you hear – or read – them. If you’re sitting with the Pharisees and scribe (i.e. the law-abiding citizens of the time) the “lost” stories will concern you (“why such a big deal about a lost, sheep, coin, or errant boy?)

            But, if you’re in the dirt, sitting with the sinners, the broken and disenfranchised fringe people, you see the message in a different way. Put another way, for those on the outside looking in, the three parables all point to a God who actively searched for “the lost” and rejoices when they are found. It is the ultimate message of God’s grace fully revealed on that, first Easter morning.

            And the funny thing is, the parables were told so that everyone would understand, “I’m one of the lost.”

            I know, you’re wondering what that has to do with prison? A lot. This is the world of the lost. Hundreds of the men here, roughly two-thirds, are on their second, third, even fourth trips to prison. To a man, they will tell you, “I ain’t never comin’ back.” Yet, they return to streets worse off each time feeling more victimized, less empathetic, less responsible. They return to the same lives they lived each time before. And, like a patient suffering from schizophrenia, they believe the results “this time” will be different.

            They are lost, hopelessly lost. Worse, they don’t even know it most times. I think that’s where the Pharisees and scribes (and most “good,” law abiding folks) were when they heard the story. “I’m ok; I’m not lost.” Been there.

            Monday morning, April 1^st, the day after Easter, my friend Gras will leave this place he’s called home since 1995. Seventeen years locked up. He came in as a young, Cuban-American, man the son of naturalized U.S. citizens – exiled from Castro’s Cuba – who was 26 when the gate closed and now goes out a 44 year-old man. Twenty gets you seventeen. Seventeen years, seventeen years in the wilderness that is prison.

            We said our goodbyes yesterday and he had the look of a man ready to live his life. He told me he “found himself,” in here. I knew what he meant. His seventeen years wasn’t wasted. He earned his BA, then went and earned a secondary college degree from a Mexican University. He became a licensed, master electrician, HVAC specialist, and plumber. “I was given a second chance,” he told me and I thought of the lost son. “Pascua,” he told: “Easter.” “My folks celebrated last week. My dad told me the line the father said in the parable of the prodigal son, “for this son of mine was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.”

            The significance of the Pope’s Maundy Thursday trip to an Italian juvenile detention center didn’t escape me either. The leader of the 1.2 billion member Roman Catholic Church went and washed the feet of a dozen juvenile inmates. The church, the new Pontiff has proclaimed, must get out into the streets with the people. What better way to begin but in a prison. I pass no judgment on the problems facing the Roman Catholic Church, but it’s hard not to be awed by a man who would do what he did.

            Pescua Mensaje, an Easter Message, God gives second chances; God searches for the lost. It is a message that resonates with me, never more so, than in here.

            “Feliz Pescua. Dios liberar los presos.”

 

Leaven Causes Blindness

One blessing of being in this place is I’ve had to confront many of the prejudices I carried through my life as I interact with all types of men I frankly thought were beneath me. As I face these issues, I’ve come across numerous Bible stories that bring home the hypocrisy of my life. Ironically, the more I read, the more I realize we live lives that ignore what God sees. We see color, we see differences; we feel intellectually superior. God sees His children.



If anyone would have told me I’d learn life lessons from “convicts” I’d have thought they were crazy. Yet, as I watch these men deal day in and day out deal with disappointment, I learn patience. Character, I always believed, comes through in times of trial and crisis. If that’s true, I have seen more character exhibited in these past three years than in my entire life. The same goes for compassion. I have watched men with little share all they have.


In one of the Gospel stories Jesus, as he was accustomed to doing, warned his disciples against the leaven of the Pharisees. Leaven, yeast, the blowing up of our lives in hypocrisy and self-delusion. He was warning His followers that hypocrites put on a good show, but eventually all their sins will be revealed.


I ponder that lesson a good deal in here. I was one of the Pharisees in a manner of speaking. I was a “good” church elder, active in community service, a “good” employee – really a big fish in a little pond. I had, from outside appearances a perfect home life: attractive wife, two wonderful sons, big house, travel, money. And, it was easy to cast judgment on others. After all, I made it, why can’t they.


But, I had a dark side. I was stealing from my employer and boosting my own ego by throwing money at family and friends to get what I craved. And, like Jesus said, all my sins were revealed and the life I’d built was really a house of cards.


The “perfect” marriage; that disintegrated the day I was arrested. All my “soulmate” really wanted, really kept me around for, was the money and stuff. My side of the bed wasn’t even cold and she was filling out questionnaires on date sites (apparently there were some “out” clauses in our vows I overlooked). And my kids? In their eyes, I was replaceable. Everything I held up as evidence of my moral superiority and self-worth lay in ruin. The “loaf” that was my life had risen with bad yeast.


Then I came in to “the system” and I started meeting the “dregs” of society, the “bad guys”, the “failures”, all those people I looked down on. And a funny thing happened along the way. My eyes were suddenly opened to the decency of these “scumbags”, and the darkness in my “perfect” world.


I received a copy of a recent sermon delivered by a minister as part of his Lenten series (it wasn’t from my church family. They dropped me soon after my arrest. All those “good” church people delivered meals to my wife but only three ever bothered to visit or write. Not one ever spoke to my wife about God’s view of marriage). His sermon was about Jesus giving sight to a blind man.


His disciples asked if the man – blind since birth – was that way because of his parents’ sins. Funny how we equate bad circumstances as “Karma” – “he must have done something to deserve that.” Instead, Jesus turns things on their head and, in effect said, the reason he’s blind isn’t important. But, watch how God heals him. In a matter of minutes the man sees. God has made him whole.


But, his community rejected him. They rejected him because their perception of him was different than the reality of what God saw, and what God can do.


Many days I sit here in awe of the lessons I learn from these men. During these very difficult past few months as I struggled over the correspondence exchange with my ex, it was guys in here who came by with a kind word. My “friends” from home? They had to remain “neutral” and not appear to be giving any aid or comfort to me. After all, my ex has a new boyfriend who’s now part of the circle!


I received a card the other night from a friend. In it he told the story of a minister who asked members of his congregation to list on a piece of paper their top three hopes for their life. As the congregation finished writing, he told them to draw a line through their items because “none of them will happen”. As the crowd grew uneasy and sad he told them “Hope is what is left when all of the things we hoped for do not come true. Hope with a capital “H” is in you, and gives you life and the will to go on trusting God.”


I have a list and my list is in tatters. Everything I hoped for has been lined out. Yet, I see clearly now. I see people for what they are. The young inmate, back in prison for his second bid, covered in tattoos, yet he stops by to check on me or he shares a meal with someone worse off, he is closer to a Christ like man than I ever was. He sees what mercy, compassion and kindness are all about.


My family or my friends? They are so much like the community that pushed the man – with sight restored – away, their sins are still hidden.


I see now how my life really wasn’t that great. I see now that even those who look differently, act differently, have a capacity for love, forgiveness and mercy beyond what I ever experienced.


I see the danger of the leavening. None of us are really “good”. Oh, some may try harder than others, but as Mother Teresa admitted, we all sin. We all treat others in a way we wouldn’t want to be treated.


What I learned in here is, God can do anything. He can make the blind see – and a self-absorbed arrogant man learn humility, mercy and hope.

On Writing Inside

The school principal recently asked me to oversee the creation of a literary magazine with the intended purpose of giving budding writers in here an avenue to share their stories and poems with larger prison communities.



As part of that undertaking, I thought a fair amount about why I write. I’m frequently asked by guys not just “what are you writing” but “why do you spend so much time writing?” The following blog, “Writing Inside” tries to briefly explain the reason behind all this.


I frequently am deeply moved by the responses I receive from readers of the blog. As you’ve noticed, sometimes I even respond. Every time, I take what is written to me to heart.


This past week I received two very moving, thought provoking response from an “Anonymous” reader (I’m not sure if they are from one or two different readers). Both entries deeply moved me in ways that will remain personal to me for the time being. But, I want “Anonymous” (or Anonymi) to know how much those two pieces meant to me.


I was told recently by one of the teachers with whom I work that I have “a fascinating life story”. I told her the truth is we all have fascinating life stories. I have met so many remarkable men (and women) during these past three years. I’ve even co-opted some of their stories for short stories I write (Hint to any literary agents: I have a series of short stories available).


Life, I’ve learned, is not static. It constantly moves forward and each day brings new challenges. As “Anonymous” reminded me last week, we have to remember how blessed we are everyday, even in our trials. I found a brief, anonymous prayer the other day that really made me think: “Lord, help me to accept those things I don’t always understand.”


One final thought. In Big S’s Modern Language Bible I stumbled across a passage that stopped me. As Jesus was explaining his objection to the Pharisee’s reliance on Moses’ Certificates of Divorce (how ironic I stopped there!), it said the following: “You rely on man’s law rather than God’s moral requirement.”


I try and live righteously in here. I realize this is a tough environment to live that way. But, it’s perhaps tougher outside. Rationalization may help us sleep (I used it for twelve years), but it doesn’t change what the Lord requires from us – to love, to forgive and to live in righteous obedience.