The Irony of Thin Places on Death Row
The Irony of Thin Places on Death Row.
“ The thin place is where the veil between this world and the next is so sheer that it is easy to step through.” (Barbara Brown Taylor, Home By Another Way).
This term from an ancient Celtic tradition has stood the test of time. The idea of a thin place between heaven and earth has captured our imaginations, and yet is not just a metaphor. Thin places are literal as well.
The traditional thin place as the Irish understood it has been described in many ways: where the veil between heaven and earth is so thin as to be porous, permeable, practically transparent; where the space between the divine and the human has narrowed; where eternity and time intersect; where the boundary between heaven and earth has collapsed; where the wall between heaven and earth have made them indistinguishable; where the doors between heaven and earth have cracked open enough to walk through, temporarily or permanently; the place where eternity and time seem to join together.
Those descriptions of thin places have recently been expanded to include… wherever God has chosen to reveal Himself and make Himself known with unusual intimacy; wherever the sacred interaction with God’s presence is more pronounced and accessible; wherever the Holy Spirit is released in a particularly powerful way; a physical space where one can more directly and intensely experience God’s presence. A thin place is when the Spirit of God opens the skylight of the earth’s roof and provides easy access to and from heaven. A thin place allows traffic between heaven and earth.
Chris Stapleton Death Row lyrics (youtube.com)
“There lives in the deep South a little old lady who, being filled with the Spirit, goes forth to seek and to save those who are most truly lost. She is known in prisons, in homeless shelters, in questionable bars. She heard one day of a murderer – a multiple and confessed murderer – who was condemned to die. She went to see him. She knew that she could not save his mortal life, forfeited to the laws of the land. But she could bring him out of that death of the soul which he had already suffered. ‘You can’t go in there, Miss Nellie!’ said the Warden. ‘He’s dangerous. We never go into his cell alone – it takes two or three of us to manage him.’ Miss Nellie serenely replied, ‘He won’t bother me. I’m not alone…’ The huge man leaped from his cot when she entered his cell, cursing and swearing and shouting. Miss Nellie merely stood still and prayed for him, seeing with the eyes of Christ the real man behind this apparent savage – the real man, simple, childlike, capable of great love and real holiness. Because she could see the real man and because she poured out upon him the Holy Spirit of Christ – or, in other words, put the love of God in action – the prisoner ceased raving after a while, at least long enough to draw a breath. Nellie said, ‘I understand, and I’m very sorry.’ ‘You don’t understand!’ roared the captive. ‘Nobody ever done understand me! My mother didn’t, my father didn’t…’ Miss Nellie immediately said, ‘Jesus understands you.’ Where upon the tormented man began once more to shout curses, shaking his huge clenched fists at the ceiling. ‘Don’t give me none of that Jesus stuff!’ he yelled. Not in the least bit intimidated, Miss Nellie simply stood there and prayed for him. After a while there was a brief silence. Then the prisoner cried out to her, ’What’s that? What’s that I feel? What’s coming all over me?’ Miss Nellie replied, ‘That is the Holy Spirit.’ ‘But I’m happy! I never felt like this in my whole life!’ ‘That’s the joy of the Lord, ‘ Miss Nellie explained. For an hour or more she sat on the crude pallet beside this man and told him very simply the story of the love of Jesus and of the Holy Spirit of Jesus, while tears ran down his cheeks and shouts of joy rang out from time to time into the hallway outside his cell. The next week, Miss Nellie went again to see him. As she reached the cells in Death Row, she caught sight of him looking out from behind the bars, his hands flung high in the air in praise. ‘He ain’t left me yet!’ he shouted to her. ‘He ain’t left me yet!’ Before this man went to the electric chair, he converted every prisoner in his corridor. The last man he converted was the executioner.” (As told by Agnes Sanford in her book, Healing Gifts of the Spirit, 1966).
Motherless Child (youtube.com)
If there is one place on earth where one wouldn’t expect to experience a thin place, it would be where there is constant gloom and discouragement, hopelessness and uncertainty, boredom and shame, constraint and hostility, repugnant smells and relentless noise. In other words, the presence of God on Death Row in a maximum-security prison? In a word, Yes, the love of Jesus can split the veil between heaven and earth, even in what many consider to be the pit of hell on earth.
“Then God said, ‘Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness… So God made man; in the image of God He made him; male and female He made them.” (Gen. 1:26-27).
The Premise: The Sanctity of Human Life. Every human being is created in the image of God, and so every person on earth is sacred. Every person deserves to be treated with dignity and respect and love. Every person is valuable to God and carries God’s holy fingerprint. Therefore, God has called each person to participate in preserving the sanctity of human life in each other. The Lord is asking us to fulfill His teachings by bearing each other’s burdens. Every person we see is extraordinary, set apart to represent and reflect a holy God. That person we love to reject, ignore or underestimate is not a “mere mortal,” as C. S. Lewis once said. Every human being has a sacred center, sometimes well-hidden, but nonetheless a sacredness that forms our main identity. A prisoner inmate, a nursing home resident, a child in an orphanage, a down-and-out person in a shelter, a shut-in elderly, a long-standing patient in a hospital, members of a group home for the disabled, a soldier on the front line, residents of a mental facility… These are all people that are enmeshed in situations which sometimes make it difficult to recognize God’s image in them, but the profound truth of the matter is that they are all invaluable image-bearers.
The Lord God seems to have a special place in His heart for the prisoner. He has gone on record as listening to the “groans of the prisoners” (Ps. 79:11; Ps. 102:20), of wanting to “set the prisoners free” (Ps. 146:6-8; Ps. 107:10; Isaiah 61:1). And don’t forget that Jesus quoted Isaiah 61:1 as His mission statement at the start of His ministry, which included, “to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound.” God in His mercy is always poised to demonstrate His lovingkindness to those in desperate need. He deeply cares about the prisoner, including of course the condemned prisoner, because they are among the most hopeless, least valued and most forgotten people in our world.
Johnny Cash – I Got Stripes (Live at Folsom Prison) (youtube.com)
“… Then the people who have done what God wants will reply, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and make you our guest, or needing clothes and provide them? When did we see you sick or in prison, and visit you?’ The King will say to them, ‘I am telling you the absolute truth, so take this to heart! Whenever you did these things for one of the least of these brethren of Mine, you did them for Me!” (please read the entire parable, Matt. 25:31-46).
Christ so closely identifies with those who suffer in the world that He somehow attaches Himself to each sufferer and literally ‘feels their pain.’ He even thinks of the sufferer as “brethren,” (v. 40) of being in the same family as Him. Jesus has welcomed every needy person in the world into His presence, and He has invited Himself into their presence as well. Jesus is spiritually present with the least important, the overlooked, the neglected in a meaningful way. Jesus knows what it’s like to suffer, and He knows what it feels like to be constrained, in chains and awaiting death. He is familiar with poverty, rejection and loneliness, He is well-acquainted with grief and shame. The Lord is saying in this parable that He is personally present with that person in the midst of his suffering. When we care for the needy, therefore, we end up caring for Christ as well. When it comes to those who are forgotten or devalued, Jesus weaves together His identity with theirs. When we are serving the hungry in a soup kitchen, we are also filling the plate of a hungry Jesus. When you dress the wounds of a soldier on a battlefield, we are welcoming Jesus into the foxhole with you. When we visit a prisoner in his jail cell, we’ll find that Jesus occupies the same cell and is right alongside each prisoner. If we offer a spare room to someone who needs a bed for the night, we are welcoming Jesus as a guest as well. If we offer the shirt off our back to a half-naked man on the street corner, be aware that we are clothing Jesus in His “distressing disguise.” (Mother Teresa). The miserable ones have captured the heart of Jesus to the extent that He joins them in their misery. He is a presence in their poverty. Jesus so closely identifies with the needy that when we care for the needy, we care for Him who is standing right there in solidarity. In a sense, Jesus seems to love hiding in the needy. So somehow here’s a gospel mystery… Each believer is hidden inside Christ, while at the same time Christ is hidden in us when we suffer (Col. 3:3). The profound reality is that when we ignore the needy, we are ignoring Jesus as well, to our peril. It’s astounding that God desires to go where the Church is often absent. It would be wise to remember… “Christ has no body on earth but ours, no hands but ours, no feet but ours. Ours are the eyes through which the compassion of Christ looks out upon the world. Ours are the feet with which He goes about doing good. Ours are the hands with which He blesses His people.” (St. Teresa of Avila).
Thin Place: A Glimpse of a Cell in Death Row. “At the entrance to the “East Block,” Death Row, is a metal door labeled “Condemned.” Those who walk through that door are considered by society unworthy to live. Each cell is windowless, fronted by heavy metal mesh on a barred door, and a food slot that is padlocked most of the time. Each cell measures 5 feet wide and 10 feet deep, and is dark, cramped, and totally isolated. Each cell has a 1” thick cotton mattress for a bed. And the entire section of Death Row smells like a locker room mixed with a cafeteria mixed with an outhouse… A nauseating smell every day, all day. But I still believe that God’s love reaches down into this pit of hell, that the light of Christ is streaming forth and dispelling the dark shadows of Death Row.” (as reported by Rev. George Williams, Prison Chaplain at the San Quinten execution block).
Bearing Burdens with Works of Mercy. “Continue bearing each other’s heavy burdens. In this way you will be fulfilling the Torah’s true meaning, which is upheld by the Messiah Christ. Keep carrying one another’s overwhelming loads, and you will be truly obeying Christ’s Royal Law of Love. By your ongoing offer to stoop down and help shoulder one another’s crushing burdens, you will be completely submitting to the way Christ expects us to live.” (Galatians 6:2).
Physical Works of Mercy. Both the Roman Catholic and the Eastern Orthodox have “Works of Mercy” in their Church Catechisms, both the Physical Works of Mercy and the Spiritual Works of Mercy. Since Biblical times there have been six Physical Works of Mercy expected of Christian believers, with the 7th Work, to bury the dead, not added to the list until medieval times. So, I’ll be referring to the first, original six Physical Works. These Physical Works are outlining acts of mercy that relieve physical suffering. They are accepted as revealing love-in-action, a model for how to treat others in the name of Jesus, and tangible ways of loving your neighbor who has physical needs. These Physical Works are practical ways of making Jesus visible in your corner of the world. These merciful acts are not necessarily what is needed to be a Christian, but instead reveal if one is a Christian in the first place:
- Feed the Hungry;
- Give Drink to the Thirsty;
- Clothe the Naked;
- Give Shelter to the Homeless;
- Visit the Sick;
- Visit those in Prison.
This ancient list of Physical Works of Mercy is based on the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats in Matthew 25:31-46. Jesus offers this story as His final words before the Passion. It appears He wanted to close His teaching ministry with a visceral punch to the gut, and He was successful in that.
Spiritual Works of Mercy. Burden-bearing can be applied to any excessive weight on a person’s shoulders, including physical difficulties which call out for Physical Acts of Mercy. In this passage in Galatians 6:2, though, Paul seems to be directly applying this word to spiritual burdens… guilt from a particular sin; a difficult time of temptation; sorrow over spiritual failure; being overtaken by the weight of an unexpected sin or wrongdoing; the expressed need for forgiveness; a time of doubt; an obvious need for sound Christian teaching; the need for someone to be warned about the path one is traveling. Whatever this spiritual burden might be, believers are expected to be aware of the spiritual well-being of others, and then to helpfully carry that person’s woes by bearing his burden, by helping to shoulder the weight of it. Bearing someone’s burden is putting God’s agape love into action for neighbors who are weighted down, including those with spiritual and emotional needs. Spiritual Acts of Mercy, parallel to the Physical Acts of Mercy, are intended to spell out a model on how to treat others in a way that makes Jesus visible.
The traditional Spiritual Acts of Mercy listed below are works of kindness that are oriented towards a neighbor’s inner life of the spirit. They have been accepted, along with the Physical Works of Mercy, in the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches. These Works of Mercy have been popularized by what is known as Catholic Social Teaching, and are also included in Orthodox Catechisms as essential to the Faith.
- Admonishing those who have sinned;
- Teaching those who are untrained;
- Counseling those who have doubts;
- Comforting those who are sorrowful;
- Forgiving those who have been hurtful;
- Bearing patiently with others who wish you ill.
- Praying for those who are living and who are dead.
“Long my imprisoned spirit lay, fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quick’ning ray, I woke, the dungeon flamed with light.
My chains fell off, my heart was free; I rose, went forth, and followed thee.
Amazing love! How can it be that thou, my God should die for me!” (hymn by Charles Wesley, 1707-1788).
The remarkable, and anonymous, Psalm 107 offers several vignettes of what has been called “God’s Great Works of Deliverance.” We find people in all kinds of trouble in this psalm, and the Lord provided salvation each and every time. Most scholars claim that this psalm can be taken either literally or as metaphor, or more probably both. Historically we can point to the Chosen People here, experiencing exile and all sorts of problems because of their disobedience to their Lord Yahweh. But there are many who say, especially in verses 10-18, that the description of people hopelessly imprisoned in a dark, windowless dungeon is rightly understood as a picture of our spiritual captivity before the arrival of Jesus Christ. This is a realistic picture of the inner prison of the heart before redemption and deliverance. This is certainly a bleak snapshot of the state of our soul without Jesus. Weaving together many translations of Ps. 107:10-18, the following paraphrase can best be understood at the spiritual level, and is what salvation looks like when we are delivered from our spiritual captivity. I have written the following in the more direct and personal first person instead of the more impersonal and distant third person.
“We are those who sat in darkness, locked up in a gloomy prison, living in the shadows that were as dark as death. We were prisoners in absolute misery, bound in chains. All this because we defied the instructions of Lord Yahweh, we despised the counsel of our God, scorning the thoughts of the Most High. So Yahweh humbled our hearts through suffering, and if we fell down, there was no one there to pick us up again. We cried out to the Lord in our distress, and He saved us. He rescued us from our miserable plight. He delivered us from the gloomy darkness and the deathly shadows. He shattered our chains of captivity, He broke the jail wide open. We thank Yahweh for His goodness and lovingkindness, His faithful love for us, His wonderful works for the children of mankind. He broke open those gates of bronze, He smashed the iron bars, and He shattered those heavy jailhouse doors. Yes, we cried out to Lord Yahweh in our distress, and He saved our lives from the Abyss, the pit of destruction, from certain death. We will thank the Lord for His mercy, faithfulness, and goodness!” ( a paraphrase of Psalm 107:10-18 by Steve Larson)
This would be the testimony of our fallen heart if it could talk. What better way to paint a picture of sin holding us captive, hopelessly locked into a dark dungeon without any true freedom. The truth is that we aren’t strong enough to break those chains. Only Jesus has “bound the strong man” and mercifully liberated us in a dramatic spiritual jailbreak.
Grace is fleshed out by remembering that the blood of Jesus didn’t only cover the sins of the “good” people, but also those who are not considered good at all. “While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and public sinners came and ate with Him and His disciples… Jesus said, ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.’” (Matt. 9:10-13).
Gospel Song – No More, My Lawd. “No More” was first recorded in 1947 at the notorious Parchman Farm of the Mississippi State Penitentiary System. The Farm was modeled after a slave plantation during the slavery era, and was called “the closest thing to slavery that survived the Civil War.” 90% of the prison population was black during the Jim Crow era in the early to mid-1900’s, because African Americans could be imprisoned for vagrancy, loitering, curfew, insulting gestures, mischief, and other so-called crimes for which whites would not be arrested. The Farm is located in the fertile Mississippi Delta, and was mostly producing cotton until recently, when the crops became fruit and vegetables. Following the Civil War, many plantation owners wanted the blacks to have the same conditions as in slavery. So the powers-that-be found a loophole in the 13th Amendment abolishing slavery. They founded a program whereby the prison system would lease out prisoners during their incarceration to local plantations, where, while working off their sentence, the blacks could be exploited, inhumanely treated, and used for forced labor. Many have described the infamous Parchman Farm as legalized torture. Since most of the prison population was black, there were men, women and children as young as six years old assigned to Parchman Farm to work in slave-like conditions. “No More” was recorded by Alan Lomax, and features an axe cutting wood as the background driver of the beat. This blues song is heart-breaking when you consider the context, and brings painfully home the wrenching experience of the African Americans during Jim Crow in the South.
LYRICS – No More, My Lawd
No more, no more, no more, no more,
Lord I’ll never turn back no more.
I found in Him a resting place, and He have made me glad.
Jesus, the Man I am looking for, can you tell me where He’s gone?
Go down, go down, among the flower yard, and perhaps you may find Him there.
“Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are being mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.” (Hebrews 13:3).