by Ingrid Christiansen

There is probably no one among us who does not hope for peace. We address one another on Sunday mornings with "The peace of the Lord be with you." We use the word "peace" when we close a letter or e–mail and when we say goodbye. We hope for peace in our later years. And we rejoice when we find a peaceful place to live.

Why do we constantly invoke something that should be easy to come by — an absence of violence and the presence of good will locally, nationally, and globally? What makes peace so longed for, yet so elusive?

When I was growing up, my parents did not hit us or even raise their voices to us, their five children. I imagined all households were that way. No one in my neighborhood acted in any way that would have suggested to us that force was a way to solve problems. I imagined the world to be a fair and kind place.

Every day now, however, in my work I see the failure of the world to be fair and kind. I work in the criminal justice system on the defense teams of people facing possible death sentences. My job as a capital mitigation specialist is to learn the story of the defendant’s life so that I can explain to a judge and jury why this man or woman committed this terrible crime. My goal is to save my clients from the death penalty.

I spend many hours with my clients in jail or prison. During our time together, we explore their family roots and what led to their crime. We also discuss the gifts and contributions they have to offer the world. I mostly see their sorrow, regret, and anger. But sometimes I see their hope and joy. I accompany these men and women as they come to terms with what they have done and what that has done to their lives. Most of them will spend the rest of their lives in prison whether or not they are sentenced to death. Although this is hard for them to accept, they know it is the penalty for the pain they have caused.

Pain is cyclical. The pain these prisoners have inflicted is tied to the pain they have suffered, most from infancy. If it were it not for grace — forgiveness, and the love of God     — many of them would end their own lives during this time. Some do.

ROOTS OF VIOLENCE
In his profound book Violence, James Gilligan, M.D., explores the roots of violence. He believes that people commit acts of violence to get justice or revenge on behalf of someone they know or for themselves. Usually, he writes, they are punishing their victim because they believe that this person unjustly punished them. Gilligan reveals the irony: The motive for the violence is the same that produces the punishment — justice.

One of my clients, Charlene, grew up in the brothel and drug house that her grandmother and drug-addicted mother ran. When Charlene was 11, her mother made her confess to a murder committed by an older cousin. In that family, children under 12 were made to admit to serious crimes committed by relatives over 12. The sentence for a child under 12 was five years; older offenders might be sentenced to 30 to 40 years.

Charlene was sentenced to a Utah facility for young offenders. She was evaluated initially as mentally slow and depressed. However, when she was placed in a cottage with other children and house parents, she flourished. Her house parents made her go to school, eat healthy foods, and go to bed at a consistent time. When she got sick, she was cared for. She belonged to a support group, and she saw a therapist regularly.

Within two years Charlene was at the head of her class. She became a leader in the school. The staff developed such confidence in her that they permitted her to get an off-campus job. The institutional care Charlene received helped her thrive in ways no one could have predicted. Imagine how well Charlene could have done if someone had loved her more.

Because of her drug addiction, Charlene’s mother visited her only twice in four years, though the state would have paid for eight visits. Still, when Charlene finished her time at the Utah facility, she was sent back to mother in Chicago. No one was there to meet Charlene at the airport. Her parole officer thought that her mother would pick her up, but her mother forgot. Charlene didn’t know how to get from the airport to her old neighbor- hood; her mother had moved; and the brothel had burned to the ground. She eventually found a childhood friend selling drugs on the street, and the friend allowed Charlene to stay with her. Soon, Charlene was selling drugs, too. Within two years, she had two babies and had committed the murder that brought her to my attention. She was a candidate for the death penalty because her rap sheet showed two murders.

What does Charlene’s story have to do with peace? If the world in which Charlene and others like her live were more just, there would be drug treatment for her mother and a decent job for her grandmother. If citizens demanded that the police, public defenders, and prosecutors be fully staffed and better supervised, Charlene would never have been convicted of a murder she didn’t commit. If citizens demanded better schools for all, Charlene and other poor children in poor neighborhoods might learn better ways to deal with frustration. If everyone did her part to make the world a better place, maybe peace could prevail.

LEARNING PEACE
My father was a pacifist. He said he did not believe in solving problems through killing people, so he refused to serve in the military in World War II. My mother made us memorize hymns because she said we would stand up for our beliefs, and knowing the words to hymns would help maintain our good judgment if we were jailed for protesting. My parents encouraged the five of us to work for justice and taught us that when challenges came we could do the right thing.

My husband and I followed in our parents’ footsteps and tried to raise nonviolent and just children. We allowed no toy weapons. We taught peaceful games and encouraged creativity and cooperation instead of competition. We were children of the ’60s, and idealism pervaded our lives. I imagine all the work we put into peaceful play helped form our children into nonviolent people. In addition, however, it made them oddballs to some classmates. Children raised to love peace also need to learn how to stand up for their convictions. A family that practices peace and peacefully challenges a culture of violence is a powerful model for children and lends them courage and joy in their struggles.

PRACTICING PEACE
Another of my clients, Karl, desperately wanted to kill himself, but he didn’t have the means. As we prayed and studied Scripture together, looking for God’s plan for his life, he came to a place in his faith journey where he could help his cellmate with his crises of faith. Karl taught this man how he practiced his faith: daily prayer, daily Bible study, and kindness to others. In teaching his friend these things, Karl learned them better himself. Through practicing his faith and with the help of the Holy Spirit, he discerned a path to a future in prison that he could live with. He no longer wanted to commit suicide. Peace was restored to his heart and even began to spread throughout his cellblock.

I pray for a sign of grace in my clients. I pray they come to a future that includes finding things inside themselves that they can generously give to those around them. Being a patient listener, a good counselor, a letter writer — these are examples of gifts that make the life of the giver worth living. People who visit prisoners can help them discover these signs of hope and grace. Sharing their gifts helps inmates form a culture of peace within prison walls.

I don’t think we can have a culture of peace without practicing such peaceful ways to live together. Like practicing our faith, we must work at the practice of peace.

We must work for justice if we want peace. That is the truth underlying all genuine peace. Justice includes providing the necessities of life to all people — food, water, shelter, and a little love and grace. People need these basics in order to grow and to use their God-given gifts in ways that bring joy and satisfaction to themselves and others. Denied life’s necessities, people will fight for what they need.

If, as Gilligan says in his book, violence is an attempt to get justice, then our job as peacemakers is to attend to injustices in our world. Open your heart to those who are oppressed among you. Visit a prison, work among the poor, volunteer with children, write your congressman when you see that changes are needed, form a prayer circle. We all have gifts of peace that we can share to help bring healing to God’s creation.

Ingrid Christiansen worked as a professor of urban studies in Chicago for 30 years and now serves as a sentencing advocate for people facing the death penalty. She and her husband, John Kretzmann, are members of Ebenezer Lutheran Church in Chicago. This article was provided by Lutheran Woman Today, the magazine of the Women of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.