Comments by a Baptist Prison Chaplain on Justice, Incarceration and Jesus’ Model for Tolerance and Mercy

Rev. Nancy Hastings Sehested

Never Again Rally

Tulia, Texas

July 22, 2001

Mercy, mercy. 1001 mercies to you.

We've been telling the old, old story tonight.

It's the familiar story of heartbreak, injustice, and suffering.

It’s the much-too-old story of too much blood shed and not enough mercy given, and not enough justice offered.

It's a centuries old story.

It's the story of us human beings.

Oh, God! We've made a mess of things again! God, can you do something with us? Can the story have another ending?

Sisters and brothers, we have gathered here this night to tell another story.

It is one of hope.

It is one of justice.

It is one of mercy.

I first heard the story in this land of my birth, Texas.

Under these big skies, I learned of a big promise our government makes to all of us citizens----to live with freedom and justice for all.

I thought ALL really meant ALL!

What happened? Has this story been forgotten?

Under these endless skies, my Texas Baptist church taught me a story about God's endless love and justice for all.

Under these vast skies, my young soul stretched---until it seemed that the sky within me was as vast as the sky stretching out above my head.

Under these never-ending Texas skies, I learned of the never-ending love of Jesus---who spent his life giving justice to the outcast and oppressed, offering mercy to the humiliated, and walking in full allegiance to God and God alone.

Many years ago, I gave my heart to Jesus. I was captured by Christ's vision of peace, and I've hardly had a peaceful moment since.

For over twenty years, I have been preaching peace and demanding justice---and I have very little to show for it. As a Baptist woman pastor, I have known something about being disfellowshipped, disinvited, dismissed, and disregarded more times than I would like to remember. I have been "dissed."

And sometimes I get discouraged and think my work's in vain.

But it is all nothing, nothing compared with the dismissal of 2 million prisoners in our country.

I now serve as a prison chaplain in North Carolina, a prison with 850 "dissed" men, disenfranchised and disappeared from our communities. And many, many times they get discouraged.

All of my life I have linked arms and sung the hope of "black and white" together. It happened. But not like I imagined. Black and white are together behind chain linked fences in prison.

Our prisons have become housing for the poor, the less-formally educated, the less advantaged---those who are the wrong race, the wrong class and from the wrong side of town with the wrong kind of handful of drugs in hand.

We live under the "gotcha" policy…sneaking around and grabbing the most wounded from our society and jumping out with a "GOTCHA." Our paid "gotcha" raiders are simply the foot soldiers in a war being waged by the generals of government and corporate economic interests.

Our "gotcha" tactics get what? Those who are least able to defend themselves, those with the least resources for help. And God knows those in prison are not the only ones doing drugs or wrecking havoc or getting into messes.

Could we have some day raiders sweeping in and saying, "We gotcha now! Don't worry! We gotcha for an educational program. We gotcha lined up for a drug treatment program. We gotcha covered with health benefits. We gotcha on a list for affordable housing."

Let us sweep into our communities with this GOTCHA plan.

Last Friday at our prison, we had another lock-down. Our officers were looking for inmates who might have drugs or anything else found this is harmful to themselves or others. If found, they are not given more help, but less help.

If found, they are not given more hope, but less hope.

If found, they are shackled and led away to solitary confinement.

To learn what?

Is this the way to teach humane treatment by being less humane?

Is this the way to lead people out of addictions by using our own addiction to violence and control?

Is this the way to teach responsibility by taking away all responsibility?

Oh, God, can you do something with us? We're making a mess of things here.

What if we had a lock-down America? What if we were all searched? What would be found? What harmful things would be found?

Hardness of heart? Our hatreds? Our divisions? Our prejudices? Our own addictions to tobacco, drugs and alcohol, to spending, to power?

What if we had a lock-down on Congress or corporate America?

What would we turn up that would be harmful to self and others, things that needed confiscating? Unjust laws? Uncivil acts? Unmerciful deeds? Inhumane policies?

Where are the evil ones? Can we lock up all the bad guys?

Trouble is, we all have evil in us, so we'd have to put a razor-wire fence around the whole USA to lock us all up.

At the rate we are going in incarcerating our citizens, it won't be long.

Sometimes, don't you get discouraged and think your work's in vain?

But then comes that wild and holy spirit, and revives our soul again.

For we know the story.

Long ago there was another war.

It was a war between the power of hatred and the power of love.

It was a war between the power of injustice and the power of justice.

Caught in the war was a man named Jesus, from a tiny, forgotten town like Tulia, in a desert country like West Texas.

This man proclaimed good news to the poor and release to the prisoners.

This man proclaimed love as the strongest tool against every mighty war of hatred.

This man knew that none of us are free until all of us are free.

This man knew that the victims have a huge amount of responsibility in the war of injustice.

This man knew to tell the wounded, "Don't let them get you. Don’t let them snatch your spirit. Don't let them get you into their clutches. Don't let them take away your heart of compassion. Don't let the enemy win out!"

But this man Jesus had trouble getting his story out.

This man Jesus was searched and seized in the night by state authorities.

He was arrested.

He was held without due process.

He was locked up as a common criminal.

He was indicted on trumped-up charges on the strength of unsubstantiated and uncorroborated testimony.

He was convicted without evidence.

He was convicted without legal counsel.

He was convicted without justice being served.

He was convicted without rights being respected.

He was sentenced.

He was given the death penalty.

He was killed by the state.

But God said, "NO!"

God said, "Never again."

God said, "Never again will the state have the last word. Never again will injustice win out. Never again will this kind of death have the victory."

God said, "From this death will come new life."

And the spirit of Christ rose up in a people.

The spirit of Christ rose up in a people of hope, God's people of hope.

There rose up a people, a people who proclaim Christ's vision, a people who proclaim that the walls between us are coming down, a people who proclaim the reign of God's justice and mercy, a people who proclaim God's "never again."

 

Friends of Hope,

We say it will not happen again, but it will happen again.

The forces of injustice are strong. The cross is before us.

It will happen again. What has happened in Tulia is happening and will happen again.

But know this.

We are ready.

We are ready.

We will rise up together until God's justice is done.

We will rise up together until mercy floods these plains like an everflowing stream.

We will rise up together until all can see the endless sky of freedom that stretches out above us.

We will rise again until heaven comes on earth, and all can live in peace and unafraid.

For we know the story.

We know the story.

Never again.

Never again.

Never again.

Go in peace and tell this story.

 

 

Nancy Hastings Sehested

Tulia, Texas

July 22, 2001