STRIKING OUR SPIRITUAL COLORS

by   Chuck Colson                                                                                                                                    Vol. VIII, No. 6, June/July 1995

As a recent guest on Bill Buckley's "Firing Line" television program, I had a chance to tell the audience about Humaita, a remarkable prison in Brazil. Operated by Prison Fellowship, Humaita is a model of a Christian approach to corrections, with religious signs and symbols visible everywhere, daily chapel services, and mentoring of inmates by Christian families. The results are nothing short of astonishing: Only two staff members are needed to oversee 750 inmates, and over the past 20 years, only 4 percent of offenders released from Humaita have ever been rearrested (in America, 62.5 percent of all ex-prisoners are rearrested within a mere three years of their release from prison).

The other participants on the program were clearly impressed with Humaita's successes. But during a break, I turned to the head of the Prison Project of the ACLU and asked what he would do if we tried to start a program like Humaita in the U.S.

"I'd sue you, of course," he replied matter-of-factly.

That brief response pinpoints the core problem in our criminal justice system – and in our public life as well: Our courts are busily removing all visible remnants and reminders of Christian faith. Consider several striking contrasts. When I visited Humaita, the first thing I saw was a plaque in the front courtyard that read "God is the only guarantor of truth, justice, and love." But in America plaques with the Ten Commandments or Scripture verses are being removed from the walls of classrooms and courthouses.

In Humaita the cells are filled with paintings showing Christ on the cross and other religious images. But here in America religious images have been scrapped from history textbooks; crosses and creches are outlawed on public property.

Humaita inmates proudly express their faith by wearing crosses and T-shirts emblazoned with biblical messages. But in American public schools, children have been sent home for wearing religious jewelry or T-shirts with religious themes.

In Humaita's chapel services, inmates sing hymns of praise and thanksgiving to God, who delivered them from a life of crime. But Americans are forbidden from singing even traditional Christmas carols in public concerts.

Don't we understand what we are doing? We suppress any public acknowledgment of religion and then wonder why religiously sanctioned moral commands no longer have the power to restrain antisocial behavior.

Religious signs and symbols play an important role in ordering society. They penetrate beyond the cognitive faculties to the spiritual imagination. Their public display expresses a society's deepest beliefs, reinforcing a common commitment to civilizing virtues. When that public expression is forbidden, we lose a crucial means of instilling virtue in the next generation. Young people without conscience are at the root of America's ever-escalating crime rate.

Humaita demonstrates that religion is a more powerful curb on criminal behavior than the strongest manacles. When a new inmate arrives, his chains are removed, and he is told, "in this place you are chained not by steel but by the love of Christ." This explains why Humaita can operate with such a minuscule staff. The rest of the security is provided by the prisoners themselves. And the system works: Over the past 20 years, hundreds of prisoners have participated in work-release programs in the community, and only six have failed to return. The "love of Christ" is not only a restraint on lawlessness but is also a motivation to good works. Unlike American prisons, where inmates often spend the day listlessly watching television, Humaita hums with activity. Inmates perform practical work such as maintaining the prison grounds and woodworking in the craft shop. They take classes in literacy, biblical studies, technical skills, art, and music.

In short, Humaita gives vivid testimony that Christian faith can both restrain evil and inspire good. But it is a testimony that Americans are ignoring as they blindly tear down all public signs and symbols of faith.

When you read yet another news account of an assault on public displays of faith, take the opportunity to educate your fellow citizens on what is at stake. Public behavior is only as civilized as a society's public values.

And that is why, ironically, life is safer and more civilized among convicted thieves and murderers within the walls of Humaita prison than on the streets of most cities in America.

[Chuck Colson, a Southern Baptist, is Prison Fellowship chairman and "BreakPoint" radio commentator. This column appeared first in Jubilee, the monthly newsletter of Prison Fellowship. Used with permission.]