by Wayne Northey
“The gospel is
profoundly scandalous, and until we hear at least a whisper of its scandal, we risk
not hearing any part of it (p. 1).” is the opening shot of a provocative
book calling for the abolition of the prison. The author documents in Chapter IV the
tragedy of the centuries-long history of Christendom’s use and bolstering
of the prison system. Of that he
says simply: “But prison
abolitionists have always been a small minority. In the mainstream of Christendom, church
and state have been and remain prison collaborators (p. 175).” To that he says by way of
understatement: “
‘Correctional’ management may be perfectly comfortable with
the teachings of the contemporary church.
But it is likely that the teachings of Jesus would wreak havoc (p.
176).”
The author, Lee
Griffith, is a former college instructor and campus minister, with a long history
of social activism and Christian community life. He also has had experiences as a crime
victim and prisoner.
In the Preface,
Griffith best
explains his book: “I have
intentionally adopted the approach in this study of seeking to allow Scripture
to demythologize our current penal system.
In the first chapter [“Prisons and the Relevance of the
Gospel”] I prepare the ground by confronting some of the ways in which
historical theologies have cast doubt on the gospel’s relevance to
concrete social and political situations.
In the second chapter [“Prisons and the Social Order”] I
present an overview of the prison in America today and of the various
penal ideologies that have been promoted in defense of the efficacy of
incarceration. By way of contrast,
in the third chapter [“Prisons and the Bible”] I examine biblical
perspectives on prisoners and prisons.
How has the church responded to the biblical understandings? In Chapter 4 [“Prisons and the
Churches”] I make an effort to trace some of the long history of the
interactions between church communities and penal institutions, a history that
alternately tells of a church community imprisoned and a church busily
imprisoning people in its own dungeons.
In the fifth chapter [“Prisons and Discipleship”] I write
about applied theology in an effort to explore the concrete ethical
implications of the biblical understandings of prisoners and prisons (p.
xiii).”
He concludes the
first chapter with these words:
“Ultimately, there are not two kingdoms but one – the kingdom of God… ‘Freedom to the captives’ is
not proclaimed in some other world but in our world. The matter finally comes down to a
peculiar question: Are there prisons in the kingdom of God? And if there are no prisoners there and
then, how can we support the imprisonment of people here and now? For in fact, the kingdom of God is among us here and now (p.
28).”
Of particular
interest for some is his critique of the traditional Anabaptist rejection of
the military, but at least implicit affirmation of the criminal justice
system. He says: “…a subtle danger with this
traditional Anabaptist understanding is that, in the process of offering a
laudable witness for peace by speaking out against participation in the
military establishment of the state, there has been a simultaneous blessing
(whether intentional or not) of the domestic military – police, jails, and
prisons (p. 23).” A little
later he continues: “And
Anabaptists who have traditionally viewed Romans 13 with an eye to ‘thou shalt not kill’ might profit by also viewing it with
an eye to ‘release for the captives.’ The Word of God is not imprisoned by the
state (p. 27)”
The book could have
been strengthened by more attention being paid to victims of crime. While Griffith tells movingly of one experience in
particular of profound personal victimization at the hands of gun-wielding
thieves, he fails to pursue adequately a theology of victimization. Wilma Derksen, author of Have You
Seen Candace? telling of her daughter’s
murder, says bluntly that victims especially of “serious and violent
crime” need the assurance that they are safe from the perpetrators. What other than prison offers that? Griffith
could have expanded on numerous hints at the answer to that question. He says nonetheless: “With all our prisons, the victims
of crime have not been protected, and the prisons have only served to create
new victims. So the question we
face is not what is effective but what is faithful (p. 215).”
On the back cover,
Walter Wink says: “Armed only
with the relentless logic of the gospel, Lee Griffith unmasks the whole system
of revenge that masquerades as ‘correctional’ institutions. His call for an end to imprisonment, so
seemingly fantastic at first, builds to stark realism.” I heartily agree.
Again on the back
cover, Will Campbell comments:
“Jesus said he had come to proclaim release to prisoners. In The Fall of the Prison Lee
Griffith makes what Jesus meant altogether clear. Now it is for us who have
ears.”
In seminary, I was taught
that, when doing textual criticism, the more difficult rendering in a body of
manuscripts was to be preferred.
Ironically, majority seminary educators do not advocate a similar
approach to biblical interpretation.
Alistair Kee in Constantine Versus Christ attributes this to
“the triumph of ideology”.
Lee Griffith challenges that antichristian ideology.
There is an
infectious energy in reading this book, a sense that something profoundly
“gospel” is happening.
