Who can be healed . . . and how?

Winter 2008, the North Saskatchewan at Shekinah

 

 

Details of the kidnapping, rape and murder of young Tori Stafford by Michael Rafferty and Terri-Lynne McClintic in April of 2009 were established in trials. Both were sentenced to life in prison for a crime so unspeakable that these details had to be delivered in euphemisms to juries and the public. It's hard to imagine any crime more debased and cruel than theirs.

It's not surprising that McClintic's transfer to a healing lodge in Saskatchewan would raise the angry reaction that it did. In a world where nothing can be imagined that would satisfy the standard of “an eye for an eye” in such a case as Stafford's murder, it was an easy jump for many to see the transfer as the diminishing of a sentence that was already far more lenient than they would have found just and appropriate.

The loud, indignant protests came from all sides up to and including the Parliament of Canada. If there were voices in defense of McClintic's transfer, I didn't hear them. If there were voices defending Justice Canada's competence in the appropriate placement of convicts, I didn't hear them either. Two problems with this stand out: the appeal to the government to reverse the decision of Justice Canada sets a dangerous precedent, particularly in that politicians are not present in the deliberations leading to any placement of a convict and so are most likely to act out of political expedience when pressed. Secondly, it undermines confidence in justice personnel trained and experienced in the difficult decisions that go into prisoner placement.

But then, it's not a new phenomenon: we appoint the best people we have to administer difficult portfolios and then we second-guess, berate and undermine them out of our ignorance, our uninformed perceptions. It's a small step toward anarchy, toward populism.

Taken all together, it reinforces the fact that our collective propensity is to see criminal and social justice to be primarily retributive. It's an “eye for an eye” view that is arguably incompatible with New Testament ethics.ⁱ Experience shows us that revenge justice doesn't act as a deterrent, that it doesn't rehabilitate offenders and that it does nothing for the victims of crime except providing them with whatever comfort can be taken from knowing that the perpetrators of a crime are suffering as they have caused others to suffer.

Whereas the overarching theme of Christian faith is for restoration, it's taken prisoner-visitation programs, Circles of Support and Accountability and the indigenous healing lodges to foster the restoration, rehabilitation option in the justice system. If restoration were really significant in our justice system overall, every jail, every penitentiary would be a healing lodge. This doesn't mean that “soft on crime” should govern our justice system; the onus to give up freedom for a period commensurate with the crime and the obligation to participate fully in whatever is prescribed so that a convict comes out of his/her sentence as a decent, law-abiding human being, these standards alone should govern release.

Unfortunately, the concept of restorative justice and the reputation of the healing lodge as an incarceration alternative have both taken a black eye through the events surrounding the McClintic transfer. There is no possibility that Michael Rafferty and Terri-Lynne McClintic can ever make adequate reparation for the horrible crime they committed, no matter how long, how arduous the retributive punishment. What little they might someday contribute to society as reparation can only be counted on if sentencing is tailored to ensure that they are finally released as repentant, nonthreatening, contributing members of society.

Or do we really believe that some humans are irredeemable? And if so, are we ready to judge which are and which aren't? 

iMatthew 5 is often cited as a guide to ethics surrounding matters of the Christian response to wrongdoers, although it is obviously personal as opposed to corporate in intent. Anabaptist, Quaker and other denominations have based their stance against violence and retribution on the life and witness of Christ more generally. Philosophically, the efficacy of pacifism and non-violence can be linked to discussions of restorative vs. retributive justice in any number of ways, particularly as regards the objective of social peace. For a useful primer, click here.

Sorting people politically 101

. . . short days ago, we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow. Loved and were loved . . ..

If you click HERE, the website of Conservative Move will open for you. Here you'll find help if you're fed up with living in a progressive/Democratic area and want to move to a more conservative/Republican state to be with people who think like you. It's been called “sorting,” a movement that homogenizes communities, thereby providing peace from the stress of conflicting opinions, ideals. (Naturally, real estate opportunities have presented themselves as the website attests.)

“Sorting” after this fashion isn't new to us. Refugees tend to be attracted to places in a receiving country where language and culture are familiar; faith communities splinter into pools of theologically-homogenous groupings; suburbs evolve into enclaves of like-mannered; similar-stratum populations; cliques and gangs arise wherever people from a mix of demographics occupy the same space: schools, neighbourhoods, etc.

A caution being raised is that the chasm opening up between progressive and conservative elements can only become more and more pronounced as a result of people hearing only their preferred point of view day after day.

Can a democracy survive such deliberate, escalating segregation of opinion. Will it function if there's no longer the possibility of genuine, thoughtful debate? What will governance look like in future if politics is expressed primarily in emotional, angry rallies and/or placard-waving demonstrations?

In his essay, “Freedom as a Characteristic of Man in a Democratic Society”¹ American philosopher J.W. Miller writes “Man is indeed a social animal, but it would, I believe, be a mistake to interpret his primary sociability as political. When that mistake gets made, there is nothing for it but to treat man as an object, and then he is devoured by the managers who, one hears, know best how to establish community.” Miller sees functioning democracy as having no future where citizens give up their independent, self-directed persona or where truth is seen to be static and immutable rather than evolving and dynamic. “Sorting,” in Miller's scenario, then, would be tantamount to handing one's autonomy over to a manager whose version of reality will be lived out as an uncontested blueprint for whatever happiness is wanted.

The “mistake” Miller is pointing out has been demonstrated so often historically that it shouldn't come as an epiphany today. When churches, for instance, sort themselves into liberal or conservative, homogenous groups, they routinely skew the gospel in a direction that will justify the leaning that precipitated a split. Furthermore, the real community that once was—the non-political, social one—generally shatters into pieces paralleling the ideological disagreements. Friends, neighbours become dispensable. Conversation, let alone dialogue, difficult at best.

Political sorting that disrupts basic, humanitarian sociability is something democracy simply can't afford. When we begin to hear ourselves resorting to personal-attack mode to bolster our ideological allegiances, we should sense that we are hacking at the very foundation and meaning of democracy itself, a form of governance that we had hoped would ensure peace and cooperation, that would end and then prevent tyranny, that would preserve the dignity and independence of the individual, that would provide justice and fairness for all.

It may be that in America, the democracy canoe has already gone over the waterfall.

1In Miller, John William, The Paradox of Cause & Other Essays. New York: W.W. Norton. 1978