Life

Last Thursday, I spent the day with 200 men who have been sentenced to a lifetime of incarceration.  Their lifetime.

I'll let that sink in for a second.

Driving up to the Maryland state prison in Hagerstown, I didn't really know what to expect.  I had been told that I would be attending a "Lifer's Conference" which in my mind meant either 1) an anti-abortion conference, or 2) an old people conference.  Both relatively harmless.

Instead, I was greeted by- and shook hands with- man after man who had spent the last 10, 20, 30, 40 years in the prison.  There was the man who had been incarcerated after being convicted of murder in 1967, when he was just 16 years old.  There was another man who, in a burst of passion, had killed someone he loved only a few years ago and spoke of the horrible regret of his actions.  I was struck that nearly all of the crimes had been committed when the prisoner was under the age of 25.  Some seemed broken down, wearing what I can only imagine is the weight of the consequences of their actions on their shoulders.  In others, I saw a deep stillness, a peace.  In still others, the glazed over eyes of addiction or mental illness, statistically so prevalent in this population.  It was both heart-warming and heart-wrenching.

Man after man spoke of the healing power of forgiveness of self and of victim's families, and recounted the education, training and certifications, the personal development they've received while in prison.  Others shared their faith conversion stories.  Still more asked for mercy from the governor, who must sign off on any "life with the possibility of parole" parole decisions made in the state of Maryland (one of only 3 states where this is still the case).  Others sat quietly, saying nothing.

Having read and heard stories similar to the horrific accounts of what many of these men did regularly brings out a feeling of "lock them up and throw away the key."  When I say horrific, I mean horrific.  No one should die at the hands of another person, no one should fear their fellow man in that way.  No one should experience such tremendous violence.

But.

In meeting these men face to face, I was also reminded of their humanity.  Of their fallen-ness, of their need for grace and mercy, just like me.  I was reminded of the Apostle Paul, who- as Saul- murdered the Lord's people.  I thought of King David who, because of lust, had an honorable man killed.  Of Moses.  Of so many others.

I believe in law and consequences of breaking that law, and believe every single one of these men who are of their right mind and guilty of the charge brought against them should serve a significant amount of time behind bars, hopefully receiving the rehabilitation that they need.***  But I also believe in redemption.  In second chances.  Maybe this is ultimately why I do what I do; because I know that, though I've never been convicted of any crime, I too am in need of redemption.






***I will not go into the politics of conviction and sentencing, though I will point out that the recidivism rate amongst those convicted of homicide is the lowest of all crimes.  Not zero, but extremely, extremely low.  That said, I have not been a victim and cannot imagine what I would feel like should someone I love be a victim.