The Tribune

We boast of ourselves as being a deeply Christian society, a people of faith in a God who sets captives free, whether a people in slavery or a fellow prisoner on the cross being crucified through the penalty of death.

Yet our criminal justice system is often retributive, punitive and harsh despite our personal invocation of “Lord have mercy!” Our system and penal code, which have seen some reform, are in desperate need of more wide-ranging and comprehensive reform.

A number of reforms were instituted during an administration of former Prime Minister Perry Christie, who spoke often of the need for “second chances” in life.

Dr Elliston Rahming, with a background in criminology, served as Superintendent of the Department of Corrections for a number of years, during which he instituted critical reforms.

We are often a very judgmental people, using the Bible to condemn others, especially those convicted of various crimes. Many in the country seem more committed to locking people up to punish them rather than as a pathway for possible reform, conversion and restorative justice.

Though we speak of the love and healing power of Jesus Christ, we are typically reluctant to offer this quality of mercy to offenders and ex-offenders. Why do so many Christians appear to believe they are more deserving of God’s grace and mercy than those who are imprisoned in penal and corrections institutions?

Instead of the application and healing balm of the New Testament, we are quick to whip and punish offenders with the narrow strictures and proof-texting of parts of the Hebrew Scriptures.

NARROW MINDED

Much of our collective mindset in criminal justice matters is driven by a narrow fundamentalist approach and a human and Christian anthropology steeped in a harsh view of human nature and a limited appreciation of human possibilities and God’s salvific grace.

The efforts to reform the criminal justice system have been joined by two former senior members of the Royal Bahamas Police Force, including current Minister of National Security Marvin Dames and former Commissioner Paul Farquharson.

A Roman Catholic and an Anglican respectively, the former officers know well the criminal realities, violence and brutality in The Bahamas. They understand the need to be tough on criminals.

Neither man wears rose-colored glasses when viewing what needs to be done to protect society, especially from extremely violent offenders. But they also understand and have seen the familial and sociological realities undergirding certain criminal conduct. They are men with minds and compassionate hearts.

They know the reform of prisoners and the deviation of certain offenders from prison may reduce recidivism and in turn decrease criminal activity and conduct. Rehabilitation reforms individual prisoners and protects society.

As chairman of the Rehabilitation of Offenders Committee, Mr Farquharson is leading an effort to help in the expungement of certain records for some ex-offenders. He recently noted that more than 100 Bahamians have applied to have their records expunged.

In a 2015 visit to a prison in Philadelphia in the US, Pope Francis urged: “It is painful when we see prison systems which are not concerned to care for wounds, to soothe pain, to offer new possibilities.

“It is painful when we see people who think that only others need to be cleansed, purified, and do not recognize that their weariness, pain and wounds are also the weariness, pain and wounds of society.”

HYPOCRITES

Our moral hypocrisy and divisions in society are recalled in a Bahamian parable. Years ago, in a church on a southern Family Island, the pastor converted his community of faith into a jury to expel a vile sinner from the Body of Christ.

In this incarnation, the woman at the well was single, young - and pregnant. In expelling her, they were also punishing her unborn child. In their self-righteousness, these disciples of Christ judged her iniquity stained their community like communion wine seeping from a broken chalice might bleed through an altar cloth. Purging the defiler was necessary for their salvation and purification. There was no room in the inn for this unmarried mother-to-be.

That Family Island church did not use stones to assault this teenager or her unborn child. Instead, they stoned her with a torrent of loathing intended to break her spirit and sever her umbilical cord from the worshipping community in which she had been nourished since infancy.

This jury of fellow sinners and Christians refused to see that her expulsion was akin to ripping the embryo in her womb, birth cord and all, from her body. Rather than throwing their stones and hypocrisy, the church could have recalled the words of Jesus addressed to the mob condemning the woman caught in adultery.

But that day, when the word became flesh, that girl’s flesh was too much for the narrow interpretation of the words that rejected her from that community of faith.

The congregation turned pious mob painted a scarlet letter on the outcast-to-be. Then they expelled her from their gated-church-community. Instead of their tongues wagging with mercy, many of the congregants gossiped about this mere girl for the same behaviour in which they often religiously indulged. More morally reprehensible was the identity of the Grand Inquisitor presiding over her trial and expulsion. It was her pastor, the man for whom she was actually pregnant.

Yet, she alone bore the burden of the church’s wrath. The married older man, the father of her baby, escaped a public trial. Then as now, this young girl was cast as the temptress and the seductress.

The church community knew that she was pregnant for their pastor. Still, most blamed her for seducing their beloved pastor who, “in a moment of weakness”, succumbed to the temptations of this “bad” girl.

The pastor received a free get-out-of-responsibility pass. But, there was no public mercy for this young girl. Instead, her expulsion served the narrow interests of the church and the narrower interests of its pastor.

Rather than a plenitude of mercy, the congregation chose to scapegoat and save face. When he looked at the girl whose physical and emotional virginity he exploited, the pastor saw his own moral failings.

But to maintain his reputation and position, and to keep his pastoral garments pristine, he abandoned her and his moral responsibility. He dutifully led his congregation by hurling the heaviest and the first stone.

Mercy is a gift from God. It shatters our human pretensions, presumptions and posturing. It is a reciprocal gift that we bestow on one another. It is also a gift we owe ourselves when we fall short of the glory of our moral best. The quality of our Christian witness mirrors the quality of our mercy. Mercy, it has been said, is the willingness to enter with compassion into the chaos and struggles of another’s life.

MERCIFUL

The God who gifted us with life, who sustains this gift, and who has conquered death, extends his mercy to every aspect of our spiritual existence. He extends his majesty and mercy through and beyond the circumstances of birth, life and death.

It has been said that, “Those who are not willing to give pardon and mercy are those who appear not to need it.” Fortunately, our capacity for mercy allows us to experience more fully the heart of God and the redeeming power of mercy.

It is one of those paradoxes of the Christian life that by entering with compassion into the chaos of another’s life, that much of the inner chaos bred by our own narcissism and self-centredness is redeemed beyond our wildest imaginings and longings.

Where there was once cowardice, there is now courage. Where there was once cynicism, there is now hope. Where there was once sloth, there is now rebirth. Where there was once judgmentalism, there is now understanding.

Rather than moral growth, the congregants of that Family Island church years ago stunted their hearts and spirits by refusing an invitation to mercy. Mercy is a gift from God. It shatters our human pretensions, presumptions and posturing. It is a reciprocal gift that we bestow on one another. It is a gift we owe ourselves when we fall short of the glory of our moral best.

It is also a gift we may offer, and indeed owe, to set captives free, including those in prison who seek conversion and those who seek the expungement of certain criminal records in our criminal justice system.