The Execution of God

Encountering the Death Penalty

Jeff Hood

• Editorial: Chalice Press
• Año: 2017
• ISBN:
  9780827208520
• Categoría: Politique et relations internationales
• Categoría: Droits de l'homme

We kill. We kill each other. We kill God. The altar of the death chamber is open, the hour of execution upon us. Is there salvation amidst the horror of the death penalty? We must save to get saved. We must save our God. How will we encounter the execution of God? Will we save or will we kill?

In this stunning fusion of biblical interpretation and memoir, radical theologian of mercy Jeff Hood takes us on a unique spiritual journey into the heart of the death penalty. The Execution of God is a powerful invitation to encounter God in the last place we expect divinity to dwell...on the gurney.

The Execution of God will invite you to re-examine your belief in the ultimate punishment and consider: How the death penalty kills our relationship with GodThe idea that the divine image of God dwells in those on death row. How we cannot be both people of love and people of murder. How our cultural obsession with violence harms our spiritual life. How to stop the killing and join the work of abolition and restoration

CONCLUSIONS

Behold, I saw needle catch the vein. The poison started to flow. I trembled at the horror.

You can’t follow Jesus without running to his execution. The gurney is the only place of salvation. Only cowards run away. Those who persevere to the end of all this shit will be saved.

The chronology of scriptures started to blur. There was no order. Time dissipated. Something was happening...

The Road to Austin

“…scales fell from [Saul’s] eyes...” -Acts 9:18

Blistered feet

Heavy hearts

Broken tears

God got lost

The Spirit took me back. For a few years, I lived the life of a serial killer. While I didn’t physically kill anyone, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough when the government killed in my name. Did I speak out? No question. Did I make posts on social media? Absolutely. Did I go to events? For sure. Did I sign petitions? I did all of this and more. It wasn’t enough. We’re not called to give all that we can. We are called to give all that we are. I was going through the motions. We all do. Our spiritualities go no deeper than simply needing to feel good about ourselves. How can anyone feel good in the midst of the heinous atrocity that is the death penalty? How can anyone feel good about being made a serial killer by their government? There is no good. There is only God. Our call is to always go much deeper than good. Our call is to give our body to solve what we created.

Names are funny things. When your life changes, sometimes you need a name that fits the circumstances. Saul eventually became Paul. Before he did, he did some nasty shit. Fearful of the growth of another spirituality, Saul went around killing people. Stoning was his favorite method of execution. The blood flowed.. If anyone dared question him, Saul would simply assert his religious beliefs. How many times have we heard that shit before? Many atrocities have flown out of deep religious conviction. I know some “Sauls.” I bet you do too. I think it was all of those “Sauls” who got us into this mess. They take religion and make it something horrible. That’s how we got to the death penalty.

I’ll never forget. Wind swirled. Stars sat high in the sky. While I had on a big coat, it wasn’t big enough. Light flooded the front of the prison. If I hadn’t been there many times before, it would’ve been easy to confuse the clock and the moon that night. Regardless, I wasn’t looking at the clock. I was looking behind it. The darkness seemed to reveal something. There in the distance was the outline of a cross. Though I’d seen the cross before, I’d never seen it like this. The harder I looked, the more truth was revealed. I believe I went into some kind of trance. The cross drew closer and closer. I felt like I couldn’t take it. I felt like the cross was going to overcome me. Though I’ve always wanted to be close to the cross, this was too much. “You did this.” The cross, raised high above the execution chamber, spoke to me. “Christians created your death penalty.” Looking up, I declared, “God, tell me it isn’t so…” “It is so.” The vision flooded my brain. I watched the bloody sacrifices of animals flow to the bloody sacrifice of Jesus, then flow to theologies centered on bloody sacrifices that flow into our bloody practices of vengeance. We are all about the blood. Unfortunately, the blood might be the biggest problem. If you are taught that blood is required for sin, executions are going to make sense to you. The gurney is our modern altar. We don’t worship God. We worship the perceived elimination of sin. We are total dumbasses. Violence creates more violence. The more people we kill, the more killers we will create. You don’t teach people not to kill by killing. You teach people not to kill by not killing. Our theology is so fucked up. So is our practice. The cross overlooking the execution chamber haunted my soul. I had to do something. My body was all that I had to give. I don’t know when Saul actually became Paul. I only know that he changed somewhere along the way.

Community leaders of the day stood with their stones ready. The law said that the woman caught in adultery was to be killed. Everyone looked up to see what Jesus would do. Joining the woman in the dirt, Jesus used his body to save her. Without the body of Jesus, the woman would have perished.

I seek to emulate Jesus. Community leaders of our day here in Texas and around the country stand with their stones ready for another execution. Here is my response.

Over the next few days, I will give my body to the struggle to abolish the death penalty. I will pilgrimage 200 miles from Livingston to Austin to help my neighbors understand that you cannot love your neighbor as your self, and execute them. With every step I take, I will pray for an end to the violent crimes committed by both individuals and through state-sponsored executions. I know the God who was a victim of a violent execution is with me.

I am seeking to love my neighbors as I never have before and I pray that the world will follow suit.

I thought I had it together. Then, I realized I didn’t. We hadn’t even left yet and my entire body gave out. I didn’t have anything to hold on to. I just landed on the floor. Now, I’m not one for quiet times. I don’t think planned prayer with God is all that beneficial. I think God is more of an experience than a prayer. If we are who we are, then we reflect the image of the God who created us. Our job is to hold onto the reflection. When I found myself on the floor, I started singing an old song: “I want God to walk with me. I want God to walk with me. All along life’s pilgrim’s journey, I want God to walk with me.” Those words were my constant prayer. I knew that I was a follower of Jesus walking into a world of Sauls. Was it my time? I knew that at any moment one of those Sauls could get me. Would it happen at the prison? Would it happen along the road? Would it happen at one of my events? Would it happen? I didn’t know. I just knew what I had to do.

Roads comfort me. I often find myself on bright days and dark nights between strips of white and yellow paint. When I meet him, I often wonder who he is and what he has done with my self. The confusion lets me know that I am still alive and perhaps growing in my humanity. There is something comforting about being reminded that we are still alive. This is a story about roads and life.

My heart was full. My heart is always full when I travel to Livingston. From rainy drives to sunny drives, I always feel the same on the way down…full. I had my first visit of the trip when I pulled into town. There were tears and love in that place. Regardless of the crime, I knew I had just encountered a child of God. I didn’t want to leave. I never want to leave. It always hurts to feel like you are leaving someone in such desperate need of love.

I pulled up to the hotel and took a few pieces of clothing out of the car. I nearly forgot my medicine, but I knew that my physiology couldn’t handle the fullness of the next few days without the right amount of medicine in my system. I got up to the room and started to pray. “God, make me an instrument of your peace…and if I die…let it be for you.” I was scared. I had never walked this far in my life and there were so many unknown variables. Prayerfully, I pressed on to morning.

The door slammed behind me. The Polunsky Unit is good at making everyone who enters feel like a monster. I sat down across from a man I’d been visiting for some time. We chatted about love and courage. I never grow tired of these topics…especially in a place so devoid of hope. I told him that I was about to do a 200-mile pilgrimage, and he told me to walk for him…and I did.

The door slammed behind me. I jumped out of the car in my robe and stole to begin my walk. I said a brief prayer and turned the corner to start walking away from the Polunsky Unit. I made it five minutes before one of the guards from the residence of the warden drove up in a van and rolled down the window with his hand on a shotgun. “What are you doing out here?” “Walking.” “Where are you going?” “To Austin.” “That’s a long walk. Why are you walking?” “I love Jesus and oppose the death penalty.” “Well, you need to hurry up and get out of here.” I walked faster.

There was a beautiful shade tree that invited me ...

Índice

• Praise for The Execution of God
• Copyright
• Dedication
• PREFACE
• DEATH NOTES
• ORIGINS
• CERTAINTY
• BODIES
• CONCLUSIONS
• BENEDICTION
• About the author