That's the title of Bob Lively's religion column which will appear in tomorrow's Austin American-Statesman. LINK
The last time I checked, seven out of 10 Texans approved of the death penalty, and not surprisingly, Texas executes more people than any other state (and for that matter, most foreign countries). Hence, it should surprise no one that our current governor has sat by while 200 fellow human beings have been executed over in Huntsville. If he commuted death sentences, he'd never be re-elected.
But I wonder about those pro-death penalty Texans. Don't they know that Jesus was a victim of the same state-sanctioned murder to which we've become so tragically inured here in the Lone Star State? The Jewish Sanhedrin did not kill Jesus. Rome did! And from the very beginning of his brief three-year ministry, Jesus opposed any and all expressions of violence.
By far, the most authoritative book I've read on the subject of the death penalty was "Within These Walls: Memoirs of a Death House Chaplain," written by a fellow Presbyterian minister, Carroll Pickett. The Rev. Pickett begrudgingly began assisting with executions back in the '70s when capital punishment was once more ruled legal. Today Carroll Pickett travels coast to coast, advocating passionately and effectively against the death penalty, but more importantly he witnesses to the life and to the radical love of Jesus.
I think Pickett's book is a must-read for every human being who, like me, believes that all human life is sacred. Pickett has come to understand that Caesar's kind of justice all too often looks and smells a whole lot like vengeance, while for God justice is quite simply always the same thing — an incomprehensible love made public.
Boston's Phoenix has new musings on the documentary, "At the Death House Door," written by Peter Keough.
What with the crashing economy, the North Koreans having a nutty and Iran melting down - to name just a few of the crises spinning at the moment - the status of the death penalty would seem to be near the bottom of President Obama's list of priorities. Nonetheless, he'll have no choice but to take a stand on the issue pretty soon, since the cases of six federal death row inmates will probably see their stays of executions expire in the next few months.
Then Obama, who has the authority to pardon them or not, will have to decide whether they live or die.
"The death penalty in the abstract is one thing," says Dianne Rust-Tierney of the National Coalition Against the Death Penalty to "Politico." "The reality of the death penalty and all of its nasty details is a very different thing."
Perhaps the president might want to prep himself for this decision by watching Steve James and Peter Gilbert's ("Hoop Dreams") wrenching, sublimely restrained and expertly crafted documentary, "At the Death House Door," which will be released by Facets Video tomorrow. It concerns, in part, the strange career of Rev. Carroll Pickett, who served as the Death Row chaplain at the Huntsville, Texas prison, ushering condemned prisoners through the last 12 hours of their lives.
Pickett's first experience at the prison traumatized him. In 1974, inmates took several civilian workers hostage. Among them were two of his parishioners. He watched them get gunned down in a bloody shootout.
In 1982, six years after the Supreme Court had reinstated the death penalty, Huntsville Prison was in the business of executing people. Pickett, then the prison chaplain and a compelling force for good who had already changed the lives of many prisoners through his ministry and his choir, was enlisted into the "Lethal Injection Team" as the person who would accompany the condemned through his (or her; one victim was a woman) last day, offering them comfort and consolation and, as the warden put it, "seduce" their emotions so they wouldn't "fight" when they had to walk that last 8 feet to be strapped to a gurney and put to death.
Given the murders of his parishioners in 1974, Pickett initially, if abstractly - had no problem with the death penalty. His leather-tough Texas dad used to say "hang them fast and hang them high." But he discovered, as Rust-Tierney noted above, that the reality is different. He was so shaken by the experience that he made a tape recording of his feelings and impressions after each execution. Thirteen years and 95 executions later, including that of one man, Carlos DeLuna, whom he was certain was innocent, Pickett was no longer in favor of capital punishment. Anyone who watches this film will be hard-pressed to support it, either.
Today's Arkansas Online carries Philip Martin's, "ON FILM: Death House Door puts penalty on trial."
Watching At the Death House Door (Facets, $29.95), a 2008 documentary by Peter Gilbert and Steve James (best known for Hoop Dreams) released this week on DVD, I was reminded of the story of Albert Pierrepoint.
Pierrepoint - portrayed by Timothy Spall in the 2005 film The Last Hangman (also known as Pierrepoint) - served as the United Kingdom’s official hangman from 1932 to 1956 and presided at the executions of more than 400 people (including some 200 Nazi war criminals hanged after World War II).
By all accounts, he was extremely precise and methodical, a true professional who dispatched his “clients” with as little ado as possible. He was a mercifully swift worker - rarely did more than 30 seconds elapse between the condemned’s arrival on his gallows and execution. (Having done some work for the U.S. Army during World War II, he hated the way the Americans dithered around for six or seven minutes reading lengthy charges while the condemned waited on the trap door.)
Dealing in officially sanctioned homicide gave Pierrepoint a unique perspective on capital punishment. In the end, he became if not an abolitionist at least convinced that the policy had no deterrent effect.
“I have come to the conclusion that executions solve nothing,” he wrote in his autobiography, “and are only an antiquated relic of a primitive desire for revenge which takes the easy way and hands over the responsibility for revenge to other people.”
Pierrepoint’s opinion is unlikely to change the minds of capital-punishment advocates - the issue is an emotional one, highly resistant to any evidence and all testimony. It may take something more dramatic than cold numbers to change anyone’s mind about whether the state should have the power of life and death over its citizens.
At the Death House Door starts out as a cinematic portrait of the Rev. Carroll Pickett, a Presbyterian minister whose views on capital punishment were shaped by a “hang ’em high” father, the absence of his murdered grandfather and, years before he worked at the prison, the killing of two of his parishioners - civilian library workers - during a 1974 prison siege. Pickett, once described by a Texas newspaper as “27 degrees right of Rush Limbaugh,” thought the death penalty was appropriate and effective.
During his 16 years as prison chaplain of the Texas State Penitentiary at Huntsville, Pickett witnessed 95 executions by lethal injection. Like Pierrepoint, he was changed by his experience from capital punishment advocate to opponent.
Earlier coverage of the documentary and Carroll Pickett begins with this post. His book is in the right-column Books section.