wfn.org | Commentary: In the midst of death

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Nov. 21, 2000 News media contact: Thomas S.
McAnally·(615)742-5470·Nashville, Tenn. 10-21-71B{523}

NOTE: A photo of Bishop Sherer is available. 

A UMNS Commentary
By Bishop Ann B. Sherer*

I have visited many people who are dying because of disease.  I have walked
with people who no longer wanted to live and were contemplating suicide.  I
understand how to offer pastoral care in these settings.  But when I visited
with James Chambers on death row, knowing that in two days the state of
Missouri would kill him unless the Governor granted a stay, I could only
listen and cry.  

Here was a healthy man who had done a terrible thing.  In l982 Mr. Chambers
killed Jerry Oestricker outside a bar near Arnold, Mo.  The violence that
resulted in Mr. Oestricker's death can never be acceptable, and my
compassion extends to the Oestricker family and friends.
	
There are personal factors that help explain why Mr. Chambers behaved as he
did, though none of them excuse his actions.  There are questions about the
fairness of the legal system, the adequacy of counsel, and the
proportionality of the sentence of death for this particular crime.  Such
circumstances are not unique.  

In recognition of similar questions surrounding many capital cases, our
United Methodist General Conference in May and our Missouri Annual
Conferences in June passed resolutions asking for an immediate moratorium on
imposition of the death penalty.

All of that is abstract until I looked Mr. Chambers in the eye and listened
to him tell me about his mother, siblings and wife.  When I asked him how he
had spent these 18 years in prison he said, "I have been fighting for my
life."  

His wife, Darlene, has remained faithful and has joined him in this fight.
She talks, without stopping for breath, reflecting the urgency she feels,
desperate to let me hear their side of the story.  He speaks much the same
way. 

Now it is days later and I have watched him die.  Strapped to a gurney in a
glassed-in room, surrounded on one side by family and concerned people, on
another side by the victim's family and on the third side by state's
witnesses and press, he groggily looked toward Darlene and with his last
breath said, "I love you."  Then the drugs that stop heart and breathing
kicked in and he died as we watched.  Darlene beat the glass and screamed in
pain.  Her two young adult sons tried to help as they patted her and said,
"Mama, don't cry.  Mama, we are so sorry.  Mama, we will take care of you.
Oh, Mama, please don't cry so."  Finally, she collapsed and was taken to a
hospital to be treated for shock and exhaustion.  

Two hours before his death, I watched Jim as he spoke with me and Darlene by
phone.   He sat in his cage-like cell where he was placed 48 hours earlier.
He was not allowed a bath or shave.  The lights were always on, though they
could be dimmed.  A guard was with him at all times.  

He spoke first: "Ann, they are going to kill me.  Darlene will not believe
it, but they are going to kill me.  It is over."  Darlene protests, "The
governor is going to help us yet."  They talk.  The three of us talk.  

He gets to touch no one, not even his wife.  She is allowed to visit only by
phone after 7 p.m.  On that night, Jim was docile and resigned.  He was
already being given sedatives.  He talked a little about God and his hope
for forgiveness.  Death was coming.  We prayed again and I had to leave.

An hour before the time of execution the governor called and said, "Go
ahead." Darlene was stunned.  She had fought for 18 years to keep this
moment from coming and here it was.  She voiced disbelief and cried softly
as her family comforted her.  We prayed. She asked, "Why is God letting this
happen?"  There were no adequate answers.

They told us it was time and we went in and watched a man die.  

The guards and the staff behaved professionally.  There was an air of
solemnity.  Everyone was polite.  Armed personnel were everywhere.  Outside,
protesters gathered.  Inside people did the job you and I paid them to do.

I am especially grateful for the United Methodist prison chaplain, Paul
Powell.  He had walked with Jim Chambers and now he is walking with me.  He
explained what was happening and was the pastor I needed. Thank God for Paul
and all the clergy who are willing to do this ministry.  

Almost a thousand prisoners are in this maximum-security prison in Potosi,
Mo.  A high percentage of the inmates have committed murder.  Nearly 10
percent have been sentenced to die.  Forty-six people have been killed since
Missouri reinstituted the death penalty in 1989.  The cycle of violence
continues and we share in it.

Most of the inmates come from hard-living backgrounds.  Many have
experienced violence since their earliest days.  That is no excuse but it
helps a little with understanding. Many are abusers of drugs and alcohol.
Few have a good education.  Although most have poor impulse control, all
prisoners - including most death-row prisoners --  stay two to a cell until
their execution date is set.  There are a few psychopaths who are kept
separate from the other prisoners, as they need to be.  

Justice issues disturb me.  There are a disproportionate number of
minorities in jail.  There are a disproportionate number of poor people in
jail.   What kind of difference would it make if they had the money for
high-powered legal assistance?   What if one of these persons scheduled to
die is innocent?  What if the sentence is disproportionate because they did
not get the very best legal representation?  The questions are haunting.  

I remember an employee of the Federal Correctional Institute in Texarkana,
Texas, telling me, his pastor, "Now Ann, remember none of these folks are
here for cutting Sunday school."  Many have done terrible things.  In Potosi
many have killed.  Some should never be released.  They are a danger to
society but they are human.  We are not smart enough to decide who lives and
who dies.  This is God's job.

Since 1956 United Methodists, in our Book of Discipline, have said no to
capital punishment and urged its elimination from all criminal codes. 

I felt called to witness this execution and its horror.  The images are
burned into my mind and soul.  Yet, I am viscerally aware that murder is
even more terrible.  We must continue to protect all members of the
community, and I am grateful for the law enforcement and prison staffs who
do this difficult task. 

We have a deep responsibility to care for and protect the victims of crime.
But state killing is not the answer.  It perpetuates violence. I trust God
to help us find another way, the way of restorative justice where we are
engaged in ministry with the victims and the victimizers.
  
Gracious God, we are capable of terrible violence.  In the name of Christ we
implore you to make us new, to guide us by your spirit and teach us how to
live in community with one another.  Enable us to establish and keep a just
legal system, to honor differences, to care for the lost and protect the
vulnerable, to nurture, preserve and restore the humanity you have placed in
each of us, and to forgive, protect and love one another.  Comfort the
victims and change the victimizers, O God.  Remove all vengeance and
violence from us and enable us to live in peace and harmony.  In the name of
Christ, who leads us to return good for evil.  Amen.
#  #  #
*Sherer is bishop of the Missouri Area of the United Methodist Church.

Commentaries provided by United Methodist News Service do not necessarily
represent the opinions or policies of UMNS or the United Methodist Church.

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