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for Novelty ShopThis letter arrived the other day with a red message stamped on the back of the envelope: "The Virginia Department of Corrections has neither censored nor inspected this item. Therefore the Department does not assume responsibility for its contents." Powhatan Correctional Center is stamped below the message. A hand written note on white, ruled paper lacking margins was enclosed.
Dear God: This place stinks! Its cold here too. Except in the Summer when the bricks almost boil with the heat. Then it feels like being locked up in an oven, especially since the warden took away our fans. He's taken' away everything! Cups, extra shoes, baseball caps, rings. Everything. Do You know what its like to have everything taken away from You?! Not just us, but our relatives too. They have to take off their wedding rings when they visit us - when we're allowed visitors! The warden says there might be "contraband" under the wedding ring. Right! Like my Momma's gonna smuggle a pistol in under her diamond. Get A Grip, Warden! I've already lost my freedom. But I got my dignity. God, I do not belong here. The man was high on crack cocaine. Besides, he insulted me. If he'd a kept his big mouth shut, I wouldn'a hit him. And then he fought back! Like a fool! He just wouldn'a stay down. So I dropped my knees on his chest. He was too high to know better or feel any pain. He grabbed an ashtray and swung at me! That got me good an' mad! I hit him until he just stayed down for good!! I got a right to defend myself! They found a knife on him. And ain't I got a right to go to a party? I'm not responsible if some fool gets high and wants to fight. I tried to tell this all to the jury. Homicide, they said. My lawyer said he'd appeal but I'm still waiting. They're all crooked anyway. He got paid! I got 25 years, with five suspended. So I'm due outta here in 2005. I'm just glad I got sentenced before this new bunch got in charge - no time off with them. You know I don't be goin' to no church in here. I tell You, one chaplain for 958 inmates - and a woman at that! You know she don't be comin' in the blocks much. 'Sides, I did the religion thing the first time I was in here. Didn't do any good. I did it all the first time: church, drug group and anger control classes. I even took a class in the community college they let in here for awhile. What did it get me? Nothing! No early release. No extra time off. The parole board said I wasn't rehabilitated so I served every stitch of time - 3 years with five suspended on an eight year drug charge. Then I tried the work thing next time out here. I got assigned to the kitchen. A man of my talent, scrubbin' pots and cleanin' the grease pit! It was so close to the fence. That was hard to take. Ten years that time on a weapons charge! It wasn't my gun - I was just holdin' it. Some nights I just wanted to hide in there and make a try at gittin' across the wire. I was still celebratin' be! in' let loose from that second time when that fool shot off his mouth that landed me back in here. One last time. Won't be no fourth time. I'm gonna take someone down wit' me. It ain't no better on the streets, God. My Momma's got kids by three ol' men - never seen any o' them. She's been to drug rehab twice but that does no good. School was a joke. I was makin' money lookin' out for dealers at age 9 - $100 just for standin' on the corner watchin' for the man. I was makin' more money than my teachers. Weren't no real jobs in my 'hood, just flippin' burgers. Chump jobs! I got respect by stayin' clean an' bein' hard. God, I deserve Your respect! I've lived 32 years so far - longer than most just by bein' locked up in here. But this ain't livin'! The only power I got is when I'm packin' some heat. It ain't my fault I'm in here. You run a pretty chump show.
An Innocent Man among Fools.
Well, like I said at the outset of this series, these letters aren't always comfortable to read. Of course its easy to think we could never write such a letter. Perhaps we'll all be surprized by the reply.
Dear Man: What have you done? I come looking for you and every time I find you in the dark, painful places of your own making. I did not create you to be confined. I did not create you to suffer at the hands of others. I did not create you to be an instrument of resentment and revenge towards your fellow creatures. I did not create you to be a predator. Your initial motive, to take care of a family overwhelmed by your Momma's drug abuse, was commendable. You sought to fill a role far beyond your meager 9 years. I had hopes that you would take all of the optimism of youth, the vigor of the stars I place in everyone's body, and use it wisely. I grieved that you would be leaving childhood too soon, like so many others of your species. But I commend your recognition of responsibility and your early desire to be helpful. How tragic that you have increasingly chosen to listen to those who are selfish. Many others have begun life in similar surroundings and have made other choices. You do not see them because their choices pulled them away from you. You had no real idea your choices would create such a world as the one where you now find yourself. I have tried to get your attention every day of your 32 years. Remember the old man who sold flowers on the corner near where you lived? And your Grandma' and your first grade teacher, Mrs. Sandburg. You used to be fascinated by the police officer who rode the horse through your neighborhood. Do you remember what he said? All of them were saying one thing: your life is in your hands! You can choose to get out of here, alive and well, if you stay away from the men hanging out on the street. Trusting the witness of those who counsel avoiding obvious evil is the first step to living well. You've always had trouble with trust. So it is hard for you to recognize the difference between good and evil. Your species has always had trouble trusting each other and trusting Me. When I came among you, I came poor. That story is available to you, if you can humble yourself enough to read the story. My chaplain there is overwhelmed. I get letters from her. Sometimes she thinks I don't read them. I get letters from the guards too. Many of them mention you. There are some who have not given up hope on you, yet. But I know that you must first learn the distinction between good and evil, between right and wrong. Good and right are more than just staying out of jail - they are active choices on a wise, helpful, patient path. This is difficult to learn, especially in prison. But it is a lesson that you can learn while there. Others have, mainly by seeking Me with a humble heart. This will require you to remember the boy who was eager to learn his first day of school. It will mean you must look beyond the immediate indignity of your surroundings. A difficult task to be sure! But you, and all of your species, have the capacity to take such a step. I have gi! ven you, each of you, that freedom. Not even razor wire can keep out that ability. But you can let that ability rust and die, as you have so far. Taking the step you now contemplate would be a tragic way for us to meet face to face. I have not forsaken you. But the choice is yours. It always has been. Either way, I am waiting.
Patiently, Your Redeemer
These aren't the hardest of the letters to read. But they trouble me. They strip away the veneer of civility we wear. They remind us of the ultimate seriousness of life, behind the cheap grace offered in churches, the easy laughter of moral laxity and the sanitized violence in our entertainment. What do these two letters say to each of us? To all of us?
Personal - In the final analysis I am responsible for my life. I do not like being reminded of this. It is easier to blame other people or circumstances for my predicaments. It is hard to remember that if I keep doing what I have always done, I will keep getting what I have always gotten. It feels unfair to have to cope with the enduring results of past poor choices once I make the decision to change...once I make the effort to allow God to transform my life. But the good news is that even in the midst of enduring those continued consequences, Christ does not abandon me. He will not prevent me from "going to hell in a hand basket" if I so choose, but He does plant His feet firmly to keep me from falling backwards towards a destiny I no longer desire.
Congregational - Not only are all of us very much "on the way" in the journey of learning the difference between good and evil, but we have a continued responsibility to care for those "caught in the moral confusion of our time," as The Confession of 1967 reminds us. This responsibility extends not just to our children but especially includes those who are incarcerated. A new regional prison lies within twenty miles of our door. We can begin a ministry there as soon as we take the time to find out what is involved. What are we waiting for?
Donald D. Denton, Jr., D. Min., L. P. C.
Stated Supply - Brett-Reed Memorial Presbyterian
Church Coordinator of Assessment Services - Virginia Institute of Pastoral
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