The death penalty in the time of Christmas

December 2007

What do New Jersey and Texas have in common?  Certainly not the death penalty, not any more.  New Jersey gave us all the Christmas present of abolishing it.

What do European countries and the United States have in common?  Again, not the death penalty, for our sibs across the water have done away with it.

What do Catholics and other religionists have in common?  I wish I could answer: not the death penalty.  But I can’t.  And that is tragic.  It is tragic too to consider the millennial history of our faith, for far too often we have preached God’s love and mercy and shown our incalculable ferocity. 

Consider the wars that peppered the princedoms and counties of France and England and Italy.  Consider the crusades and the persecutions.  Consider the enslavements of native peoples that we engaged in and the colonial incursions throughout Asia and Africa and the Americas. 

So much of that is past and we often rightly hang our heads in shame and repentance—but there is still the question of the death penalty.  When are we going to stop our state killings?

Yes, our courts are presently concerned with painless methods of execution, but there is still the reality of victims of capital crimes demanding blood and glibly talking about the “closure” that can only come with the death of the wrongdoer.

Isn’t there some element in our Catholicism that screams out against such action? Isn’t there a feeling among us that Jesus and his followers should stand for compassion and pardon rather than blood?  What about that part of the second Eucharistic Prayer after the words of Institution: “Remember our brothers and sisters who have gone to their rest in the hope of rising again; bring them and all the departed into the light of your presence.”  We don’t just pray for our buddies or for the good guys, but for all, everybody.

This season of Christmas talks to us of love and fellowship, it urges us to turn to our fellows with openness, and not only our brothers and sisters, but also the wise men (and the otherwise) that come to us from other worlds.  If we are serious when we say the Our Father or when we bless ourselves with water from the font or when we receive the Bread and Wine of life, then we simply must extend our compassion and mercy and love to all others, including those who have made serious mistakes.  The death penalty has to be stopped.