February
28, 2006:
What
Would Jesus Do...with our prisons?
by Jon
Sweeney
For eight hundred years now, people have been drawn with great curiosity
toward the lives of Francis and Clare of Assisi. I am among them. We look
on the personalities and intentions of the first Franciscans as one of those
instances in the history of the Church when religion was fresh and vibrant.
Theirs was a time when a large group of people (hundreds of thousands within
twenty years) dedicated themselves to living exactly as Jesus taught.
Francis
and Clare intended to do nothing less than turn the world
upside down. We most often imagine them with birds, and flowers,
and rabbits and calmed wolves by their sides, but we might
just as well listen to them as prophets who sought an entirely
different way of living.
And
that’s what they believed Jesus intended. Imagine a
group of Christians—or a group of any people—who
followed the teachings of Jesus. For example, the prophet
Isaiah foretold of that servant of Israel who would come
and bring justice to the nations. Chapter forty-two of Isaiah
tells of those things that Jesus later taught and did. For
example:
Imagine
if we actually imitated Jesus to the point of doing likewise.
Is this blind idealism that is irrelevant for today? I don’t
think so.
What
if Christians were to care for lepers (as Francis and Clare
did in the thirteenth century), or those with HIV/AIDS, or
Avian flu? Yes there are those today who dedicate their lives
to caring for the sick and the less fortunate. What if their
openness and compassion were the norm not the exception?
I am usually quick to separate myself from those who are
terminally or seriously ill, rather than care for them personally.
The
saints from Assisi intended to redefine—as Jesus had
before them—what it means to be a sister, brother,
mother, and father. Just as the Apostle Paul later defined
love in his first letter to the Corinthians, Jesus defined
family and neighbor in ways that had never before been understood.
What
would happen if Christians were to lead the way to open the
doors on our prisons, inviting “those who sit in darkness” to
come and sit among us; to forgive them; to reconcile with
them and embrace them as our brothers and sisters? There
are approximately two million men and women in American prisons
today. Compare that to only 300,000 just thirty years ago.
In my Episcopal church we pray for prisoners most Sunday
mornings, but I have begun to think that my prayers may just
be an easy way to dismiss them.
According
to newspaper reports last week, Taiwanese judges have recently
begun sentencing drunken drivers to choose between paying
a fine and playing mahjong with the elderly. According to
Hsu Yiling, an official in the Taoyuan Prosecutors Office
in Taiwan, “Playing mahjong has taught offenders to
love and care for the elderly.”
There
are other examples of early-release programs and alternative
sentencing here, closer to home. A year ago a judge near
Louisville, Kentucky, began offering church attendance as
an alternative sentencing option. He has offered first-time
drug offenders short jail time, rehab, or ten worship services
of their choice.
But
where are the church-sponsored early-release programs? Perhaps
we should be asking that first-time offenders be invited
into our houses of worship, into our communities. What a
powerful message that would send to the world around us—if
Christians were advocates for freeing prisoners.
Jesus
taught that the prisoner, the outcast, and the unwanted are
our brothers and sisters. In the Sermon on the Mount, he
said: You have heard that the Law says not to murder? I say:
Do not be angry your brother. Do not even insult your sister.
Your sacrifices are ineffective if you have unresolved conflict
with another person. You have heard that the Law says not
to commit adultery? I say: Even the thoughts of your minds
and the wishes of your imaginations betray you. You have
heard that the Law says an eye for an eye and a tooth for
a tooth. I say: Do not even resist someone who wants to do
you harm. If someone wants to steal your coat, give him also
your cloak. You have heard that the Law says you should love
your neighbor and hate your enemy. I say: Love your enemies
and—yes—pray for them, too.
Jon M. Sweeney is a writer and editor
living in Vermont. He is the author of several books, including
THE ST. FRANCIS PRAYER BOOK, and THE ROAD TO ASSISI.)
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