By the Rivers of Babylon

I read Psalm 137 this morning. It’s a Psalm written at the time of Israel’s destruction and captivity in Babylon. It is a sorrowful lament and a cry to God to pay back the captors for the agony the writer experiences in captivity.



Captivity is a difficult experience. For those “law and order” types who believe in “lock em up” (and I was one), I can tell you, in general, prison hardens hearts and makes the criminal feel more like a victim than a contrite, rehabilitated individual who has learned that his behavior was wrong. In other words, prisons make prisoners more attuned to law breaking.


I’m here in a low custody facility. We’re in large (96 men) dorms, double bunks, in space that could reasonably accommodate at most 20 men: four commodes, two urinals, an open shower area with five showerheads. I share “cut space” (the area between my bunk and the next bunk) that is less than 21 square feet (7’ X 2’10”). Measure the floor space of a walk-in closet, a laundry room, a half bath, and you will find more square footage than in here.


I’m sure there are those who read this who will say “that’s what you get for breaking the law.” Fair enough. Problem is, in society’s quest to enforce its laws, Virginia (and every other state and the Federal Government as well) violates the law in its treatment of those incarcerated.


Federal law specifically requires inmates to have a minimum amount of floor space – violated. The law requires a state to provide a safe facility for inmates. Tell that to the three inmates murdered in Virginia DOC facilities so far this year. There is a presumption of innocence for every accused. Explain that to the two Virginians recently released after 15 plus years of incarceration for rape when DNA evidence proved conclusively they were innocent.


When society turns a blind eye to the rule of law to “keep the street’s safe”, when citizens tolerate keeping men and women in conditions that violate not only the law, but basic standards of human decency, society loses the moral foundation for its existence.


I’ve had the honor – and yes, it is an honor – to meet men who have survived the hell that is maximum security and maintain their humanity. Winston Churchill said “when you are going through hell, keep going”.


These men have seen, have experienced violent, forcible rape; the stabbings, the beatings (putting a number of combination locks in a sock has a great ability to split a man’s skull); extortion. An older, very wise inmate from the law library wrote a story he asked me to edit about the smell of tear gas and sound of rubber pellets zipping and bouncing around a cell as understaffed, undertrained officers tried to regain control of a cell block in the midst of a gang fight. This is what $1 billion in spending gets Virginia.


As the Israelites of old learned, captivity breaks a person.


Fortunately, the crime of incarceration, the failure of the system, is not the final word. An individual’s capacity to overcome is miraculous.


I think often of Abraham. God promised an elderly Abraham and his wife Sarah, a child. For 25 years they aged and waited. They strayed, they cried out “when O Lord, if not now, when”? Yet, God only answered “I am God, I have promised”.


Through travels and travails they endured. They doubted, they struggled, and somehow they kept faith. “And Sarah conceived and bore Abraham a son in his old age, at the set time of God.” (Genesis 21.2)


There are times in our captivity, whether imprisoned by the state, or by our addictions, our materialism, our bitterness, that we wait and wonder if God has forgotten us; at those times we trust, trust in the reality that we stand on the promise of a God that does not fail us.


There is a beautiful set of lines from the old Hymn “Standing On The Promises: that goes:


“When the howling storms of doubt and fear assail, by the living word of God I shall prevail.”


I trust, I have faith, that no power exerted by the state, in its warped desire to punish a wrongdoer, can destroy an individual’s God-given humanity, if that person truly accepts that God indeed loves him.


It isn’t easy. Prison can make you angry, bitter. You can focus on those who prosecuted you; family and friends who abandoned and betrayed you. You can obsess on the injustice of your sentence, the unfairness of the process. You can become a hunter, taking advantage of those weaker than you. You can run scams, hustles, and learn to be a more ruthless, sophisticated criminal.


Or, you can become – as these honorable “old heads” have shown me – a man of mercy and forgiveness. It’s not easy. In fact, it’s contrary to human nature. We tend to want to attach conditions when we show mercy?


“I’ll forgive you if you apologize satisfactorily.” Or “You must fix the problem before I stop being angry.” Or “You must make restitution before I let this go.”


That may be human nature, but it’s not God nature. God calls us to show mercy and forgiveness without condition. We are to love and forgive, even when we are hurt terribly.


Just as the Israelites experienced after 70 years, God always keeps His word. He always sets the captives free.

Discipline

Ramadan began Wednesday. Over the past two years I’ve come to gain a great deal of respect for the large number of men who participate in the month-long Ramadan fast. For those who don’t know, during Ramadan, Muslims fast the entire day - no water, nothing - from sunrise to sunset.



Breakfast is served to the observants at 4:00 am. In our building, a group of 10 to 15 guys quietly wait for the door to open so they can make their way to the chow hall in the early morning for a meal that has to sustain them until 8:45 that evening when they walk back to chow for prayers and dinner.


These same guys still go to work during the day and still work out For almost a full month, day in and day out, they will fast. I’m amazed at friends and family who, when they learn I associate with Muslims quickly state “but do they condemn terrorists”; as though Islam is a monolithic block.


These same people would be deeply offended if a Muslim said “how can you call yourself a Christian and support military action or the overriding rampant materialism in America?” The painful truth is, by and large, we’re all pretty lousy when it comes to following our faith dictates. Fortunately we have a God who loves us in spite of our arrogance, and ignorance and self-centeredness.


I’ve discovered during this process that the guys that learn from this, that grow, and find meaning, are the ones who have self-discipline.


In this environment, it’s easy to lie in bed for hours (a popular prison myth is, sleeping 12 hours a day cuts your bid in half). Guys will give up jobs and school (“I don’t need a GED. I’ve done great without it.”) so they can “get their head right” for their release in 5 more years.


I’ve always been disciplined and regimented. I’m more so now. Every morning at 4:45 I naturally wake up. Every morning the same yoga, reading, and prayer routine. Every afternoon at 3:45 on workdays, I blow off chow and run. Four nights a week, law library for an hour or two; write two hours each day.


Last Friday evening they served “steak um” steak sandwiches for dinner. Guys couldn’t believe I’d rather go run than eat. I can’t understand guys not seeing the “big picture”.


I found a great quote by Winston Churchill. He said:


“Success is the ability to go from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm.”


Prison – rather than rehabilitating and reforming a person – breaks a man down. You become lazy; you focus your energy on weight lifting, rather than developing the muscle called your brain. Oh, you may cuss at an officer (“I’m a grown ass man!”) but deep down you’ve given up. You worry more about what you’ll mix in your ramen noodles than what’s going on in the world. You become nothing but grease that keeps the correction system lubricated.


There are guys who challenge that, who paraphrasing Dylan Thomas “rage, rage against the light.” They discipline their minds and bodies and in doing so prove the mystery and magnificence of the human spirit.


A Muslim friend ends every conversation with the expression “God willing”. You forge ahead and have faith. God hears our prayers. When the time is right – His time – He answers them.


I read about a spectacular set of falls on the Argentina-Brazil border. At the top of the falls etched into the rock are these words from Psalm 93.


“Mightier than the thunders of many waters, mightier than the waves of the sea, the Lord on high is mighty!”


And at the bottom:


“God is always greater than all of our troubles.”


When you consider that, missing a few meals isn’t such a big deal.