A
CASE FOR RECONCILIATION
February 1, 2004The Reverend Anne Felton Hines
I was living in San Luis Obispo, serving the UU Fellowship there, the
day that Timothy McVeigh was executed for the tragic bombing in Oklahoma
City several years earlier. I found it disturbing that many journalists,
when writing about the upcoming execution, would claim that opponents of
the death penalty were having a difficult time remaining committed to their
cause in this case. One person after another would be interviewed who would
admit that while they usually favored life imprisonment over capital punishment,
they were wavering with McVeigh because of the dreadfulness of his crime.
Fortunately, one reporter asked me how I felt, and I answered that I had
no problem stating my firm opposition to this execution. While I was just
as sickened as everyone else at the horror of what McVeigh had done, I
felt just as strong in my belief that state-sanctioned killing is also
murder, and must never be used.
I know that not everyone here agrees with my position; and I know that whether you oppose the death penalty or not is no reflection on how well you live out our Unitarian Universalist Principles. The death penalty is a difficult and painful issue. It is especially painful knowing that there are those of you in this congregation who have suffered the anguish of having a loved one murdered. I don't think there's been a time when I've spoken on this subject that someone hasn't afterward told me of the murder of their child or spouse or other loved one, and it always humbles me.
Nevertheless, I believe it's an issue that must be faced by the religious community. And so I want to share with you today some of the reasons that I urge the abolition of the death penalty - even in cases of the most despicable murders.
First of all, from a purely practical standpoint, the death penalty simply doesn't do what it's supposed to do, which is to deter homicide, and bring about justice. Studies continue to indicate that killing murderers does nothing to stop others from killing. Indeed, some of those studies show that states with capital punishment have the same pattern of fluctuating homicide rates as states without it; and there are some indications that the homicide rates have actually doubled in states with capital punishment.
Proponents of the death penalty say that it's the only way to serve justice; that when someone murders another human being, the only fair thing to do is to put the murderer to death. But that's not the way it really works in this country. The death penalty is used very selectively, thereby becoming less a reflection of justice, and more a reflection of inequality.
Of all the people executed in this country in 1999, for instance, almost 50% were African American or Latino, even though these groups comprised only 25% of the total population. An even more startling statistic is that while only eleven whites had been executed during one period for killing a black person, 156 blacks were executed during that time for killing a white person!
Most of the men and women on death row are poor, uneducated, and often mentally handicapped. The stories of case after case of death row inmates reveal grossly inadequate defense counsels; indeed, according to the Director of California's Death Penalty Focus, about one-third of the inmates on California's Death Row have no legal representation at all. As one Death Row inmate said, "Capital Punishment means that them without the capital get the punishment!"
The "justice" of capital punishment must be questioned when we realize how many times innocent people have been put to death by the state. Since 1973 alone, over 80 people on death row have been proven innocent and subsequently released; but at least sixteen men in the past 30 years were not so lucky: Girvies Davis, Roger Coleman, Edward Johnson, Willie Darden, Jesse Jacobs, Leonal Herrera, Roy Stewart, Jesse Tofero, Warren McClosky, David Spence, Ellis Felder, Barry Fairchild, Larry Griffin, Robert Drew, Joseph O'Dell, and A.J. Bannister - all these men were executed and later found to be innocent of the crime for which they'd been killed. We can never bring their lives back. How can we continue to take that chance? Yet we do, over and over again.
Just Friday, Governor Schwarzenegger refused clemency to Kevin Cooper, even though six members of the jury who convicted Cooper support delaying his execution because of evidence that has come to light that questions his guilt. The governor made his decision without even holding a hearing with Cooper. Unless the Supreme Court stays his execution, Cooper will die Feb. 10th, and he could be innocent.
Fortunately, more and more political leaders, both conservative and liberal, who may support the death penalty in theory, are nevertheless calling for a Moratorium on it until we can study it fully, and can be sure that no one is ever again executed unjustly. I hope that those of you who may support the death penalty in theory, would also support a moratorium until we can be assured that its use is fair.
I oppose the death penalty because I believe it lets society - all of us - "off the hook." I think I've described here before a poster that hangs in my office. It shows the photos of about 15 children - all looking innocent and full of hope. But they are children who became murderers, and now sit on Death Row. The caption at the bottom of the poster reads, "Shouldn't we be asking what went wrong?"
Instead of spending the billions of dollars that it costs to keep a convicted murderer on Death Row and then to execute him or her, shouldn't we be spending that money on the education, health and well-being of our children? Would not that be a better deterrent to homicide than execution.
But as a Unitarian Universalist and as a minister, it isn't only the issues of pragmatism and fairness that compel me to oppose the death penalty; even if it were proven to be a deterrent, and even if we could guarantee it's fair application, I would not support it.
For who knows what potential for redemption we destroy when we take the lives of some of these convicted murderers? Several years ago, our attention was drawn powerfully to the case of Karla Faye Tucker, convicted of a gruesome murder to which she admitted guilt. At the time of committing the murder, Tucker was high on heroin, valium, speed, percodem, marijuana, methodone and other drugs, as well as tequila and rum; I don't know how she was still alive, let alone rational and cognizant of what she was doing. But early on in her 14 years in prison, Karla had a conversion experience which completely changed her. Her hope was to live so that she could help others understand that they are loved, that they are worthy, and are forgiven. But she was never able to fulfill that dream, as then-Governor Bush proceeded with the execution as scheduled - despite his friend Pat Robertson and the Pope asking him to let her live. A life that had turned around and could have given back to society, was snuffed out, paid for by the citizens of Texas, and ultimately by you and me.
Ultimately, I believe that killing hurts all of us, whether it's criminal killing or a state-sanctioned one. I believe from the depths of my being that executions are bad for our soul -- as individuals, and as a nation. I believe that the reason we keep crying for the death penalty is that we feel a need for retribution and vengeance; and that that need, and the fear or anger which fuels it, are, in the words of the daughter of Martin Luther King, Jr., a "sickness of the soul that ultimately destroys the one who harbors it."
Rev. Bernice King has spoken of the "seeds of violence and murder" which festered within her soul after losing both her grandmother and her father to murder. But finally she had to remember the words of her father: "Hate is too great a burden to bear….Somebody has to cut off the chain of violence."
Six times since 1961, delegates to our UUA General Assembly have tried to "cut off the chain of violence," by passing resolutions opposing the death penalty. Today, almost every major religion in this country has joined us in this endeavor. The Catholic Bishops Conference wrote, "Our passions cry out for vengeance. However, our God calls…(us) to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. We are called to seek justice without vengeance."
This is what our Universalist heritage calls us to do as well. And ultimately, I believe it is what provides true healing for the families of the victims of murder.
Remember the young American white woman who was killed a few years ago by blacks in South Africa, as she was working to help heal the wounds of Apartheid? Her parents worked through their anguish not by wallowing in bitterness and rage, but by going to South Africa and meeting the three young men who killed their daughter. Instead of holding these men up as abstract monsters, her parents saw their humanity, and allowed them to see theirs. Eventually this couple established a foundation for education of at-risk youths in that country, and two of their daughter's murderers began working with them on that project.
What these people manifested - both the parents of the murdered girl, and the young men who committed the murder - was a practice called Restorative Justice - an approach that moves everyone toward wholeness. Coming out of the Quaker tradition, Restorative Justice views crime as a "breaking of relationships," and seeks the restoration of those relationships, through accountability for the offender, healing for the victims, and the building of "right relationship" with the wider community; it is the only approach, I believe, that truly honors life, for it is the only avenue that "opens up the possibility of everyone receiving Grace through transformation." Isn't it a better model for humanity than state-sanctioned murder?
For several years now, I have carried in my wallet a card that states that if I am ever murdered, I do not want the murderer to receive the death penalty. But I was taken aback a few years ago when I was asked if I'd be opposed to the death penalty if someone were to murder one of my grandchildren? It was a horribly painful thing to imagine.
But I have no trouble admitting that, as Bernice King said, the seeds of violence and murder are within me; I am a daughter of this culture, as well as a container of human emotions. If someone I dearly loved were killed, I am sure that not only would I wish the murderer dead, I'd want to do the killing! But I am also quite sure - at least I fervently hope - that I would finally rise above those emotions, and plead with the judge to spare the life of the murderer. To do otherwise would only entrap me in a cycle of hatred, bitterness and violence.
I have also been asked occasionally if it wouldn't be more merciful to execute a murderer, rather than force him or her to spend the rest of their life - which could be sixty, seventy, even eighty years - locked up in prison? But I'm not talking only about mercy here; I'm talking about redemption and reconciliation - about restoring relationships. And the only way that can occur is for the convicted murderer to face the awfulness of what he or she has done, attempt as best they can to make amends, and embark on whatever steps will put them back in "right relationship" with their victim's family, with the wider community, and with their God. And I would hope that as Unitarian Universalists, we would be part of supporting that effort.
Sr. Helen Prejean, who wrote Dead Man Walking, implores us to join her in her fight against the death penalty, saying that, "The movement to abolish the death penalty needs the religious community, because the heart of religion is about compassion, human rights, and the indivisible dignity of each person made in the image of God." There may be no religious tradition which speaks so directly to those three elements than Unitarian Universalism. We are needed in this movement, and we must not remain passive. It is why I keep that poster in my office directly across from my desk, so I do not forget.
Whether you have been the victim of a violent crime or not, I would hope that we might all unite on this "journey of hope" to establish a truly more just society, where transformation and reconciliation for all people - even the most terrifying - is the vision.
As Bernice King tells us: "Our magnificent example of love and (reconciliation) will one day prove irresistible to people of goodwill everywhere…breaking the cycle of violence and lighting the way to the great community of brotherhood and sisterhood that is our highest calling."
May we take a moment of silence now for all those who have been victims
of murder, as well as those who have been executed for those murders.
(SILENCE)
Amen.
© 2004 Anne Felton Hines. All rights reserved.
