PeaceBang

Prayers Out Of Prison

May 27, 2007 on 4:20 pm | In Theological Reflection, Unitarian Universalism |

A woman from my congregation has been supporting a prisoner who is a participant in the College Behind Bars program. Volunteers from our congregation support four such prisoners, actually, through Partakers Prison Ministry. They visit, they write, they advocate, they go to amazing lengths to do what they can to help these folks succeed.

Anyway, this one woman’s sister is very ill with a rapidly-advancing cancer, and she received a card in the mail from the prisoner she supports, signed by 28 men, all with the most beautiful heartfelt expressions of love, hope and faith — and all speaking of the love of God or of Jesus Christ. We were both blown away by the beauty of it.

I thought, “This is the gospel. That convicted felons who have been dismissed by society know that they have something to give someone in pain, and that they feel empowered by God to give it. This is the gospel: that these men have faith that their prayers matter, that they can reach out to this sister no matter where they are, no matter who the world says they are.”

Sure, as a Unitarian Universalist, I could tell those men that they all have inherent worth and dignity and that they have minds of their own and consciences they can cultivate and radical freedom that the legal system can never take away. But somehow I just don’t think that’s ever going to be as impressive as the message that someone actually died for them as a means of communicating the same truth to their souls.

Do you know what I mean?

It’s one thing when I and my big mouth show up and say this to them. But when Jesus says it, and then suffers the whip and then the Cross to underscore that he really means it, I don’t think anyone is listening to my big mouth at that point.

Yea, I used to be offended by the idea that Jesus DIED FOR YOU, too. Not anymore. I don’t cotton to the atonement concept, that he died for our sins. But did he die for us? Yes: in the way that Bishop Oscar Romero died for us. In the way that Rabbi Akiva died for us. In the way that Viola Liuzzo and Katherine Vogel (Catherine Weygel) died for us. People who live out the integrity of God’s call in their lives knowing that doing so puts them in great danger could all be said to die “for us.”

As I get older and see how commonplace it is to give away one’s convictions for something easier, how easy it is to sell oneself out for a steady paycheck (an honest fear among most pastors I know), how typical it is to respond to threats of all kinds with violence and fear-mongering, I have more appreciation for those who give their lives away to prove that things can be different, deeper, and more God-filled. So it no longer bothers me to say that Jesus died for me. He said he would, and he also promised to be with us unto the end of time, and it just so happens that I believe him on both counts.

What UUs who refuse to truck in theology but try to do social justice work with oppressed communities don’t get is that they can orate all they want about inherent worth and dignity, but when they do, they’re just another person with another idea. And big deal. When you’re a member of an oppressed community, why should you listen to another person with another idea? But when you say, “I come in the name of God to tell you that you are a valuable human being worthy of receiving grace,” well, then you’re not just speaking for yourself, but making a faith claim about how the cosmos is ordered by a divine reality far greater than yourself. You’re not just sharing a personal opinion, you’re communicating something you deeply believe is an ontological reality that you feel called to help manifest in the world.

Now, I have good evidence that non-theists also deeply believe that the value of every human life is an ontological reality that they feel called to help manifest in the world, but the sacred stories they have to back it up are only somewhat as compelling as the Christian story. And the forms of prayer and worship they have to back it up… well, honey, they just can’t compare !

I have no argument with those who say that Christianity is a crime and an offense against humanity and they’d like to abolish it. They’re welcome to try. I’m interested to see how it goes. If there’s no real holiness and no real cosmic relevance to the Christian story, I’m sure it will go, and should go. Maybe that’s the future. But in the meantime, show me your new, godless forms of worship (or whatever you’d like to call it) and I’ll let you know if I can get aboard your ship. Given that most of the humans that ever walked this planet seemed pretty fond of regular worship of some God/s or another– and may even be genetically programmed to want and need worship — your new God-free society is going to have to offer something pretty spectacular by way of replacement. I don’t have much hope for it but as I say, I’m interested to see how it goes.

Meanwhile, I’m glad those prisoners have their Jesus.* As many wonderful volunteers as are out there in the world working with prisoners, it would take twenty times twenty that number to reach them in the way that Jesus reaches them.

*P.S. I’m also glad I have my Jesus. I forgot to say that.