The
Challenge of Holiness
A Sermon on the Death Penalty
By
Rabbi Peter J. Rubinstein, Senior Rabbi of Central Synagogue
Delivered at Riverside Church,
Good morning. It is really humbling to be here on this pulpit in
the presence of colleagues - ministers of this great church; to be
with those who have devoted their lives fighting for a cause which
I deem of ultimate importance; and to be with you, the members of
a congregation which throughout its history has somehow always
understood what needs to be done and somehow managed to get it
done, and, more importantly, has been a light unto the nations, a
light to the city, a light to our entire community.
It is with that knowledge that I stand humbly before you, as a
religious leader of this community who has walked side by side
with members of your clergy staff, but also as one who, like you,
cares about the sanctity of life, about which we will talk today.
During this season in particular, we who are Jews are especially
keenly aware of God's demands as we prepare for our High Holidays.
It is during this season that we learn just how demanding God can
be. We are about to embark upon the celebration of our new year
and on the acknowledgment of our day of atonement, Yom Kippur.
These days of reflection and atonement are a time of confession.
And you would think that we should be able to ask God directly for
forgiveness.
Yet, God has a demand of us: that we face those we have hurt, that
we look into the eyes of those we have wronged, and that we ask
for their forgiveness. Only if we pass that test, only if we can
stand before all those to whom we have done wrong, only then can
we plead our case before the Divine throne.
"Talk to those you have wronged," God says. "Don't
begin with a prayer to me, with a litany of your sins. Talk to me
of holiness, but ask your brothers and sisters whether you have
acted holy." "Speak to me," God says, "of how
you managed not to keep the Sabbath. But speak to them about how
you have stepped over them when they huddled, tired and hungry on
the street." "Talk to me," says God, "about
your prayers. But talk to them about why you haven't educated
their children. Oh, you can come and speak to me of the matters of
ritual abstinence. But you had better speak to them of the huge
matters of how you sent them to jail when they were not guilty, of
how you stole years of their youth from them with unjustified
punishment, of how you - but oh, about this you can't speak to
them anymore, because you have killed them, murdered them with
heart numbing chemicals and sent electric currents through their
organs."
Today gives us the opportunity to be aware of ourselves, the
civilization we are building, the world we have inherited. And it
is time to give serious thought to what we have wrought. We begin
with a piece of history. Gary Graham had not been a nice guy. He
was a dangerous criminal who had shot and seriously hurt two
people in Houston. But other than one eyewitness who says that she
saw his face for a few seconds through a car windshield from about
30 feet away, nothing nails Gary Graham to the murder of Bobby
Lambert in a supermarket 19 years ago. And though the case had
come before thirty judges, the two witnesses who said that Graham
was not the shooter and whom the police had even listed on their
report were never called to testify. In addition, there was a
woefully incompetent trial lawyer, the fact that the gun Graham
possessed when taken into custody was not one used in the murder,
and that there was no physical evidence linking him to the crime.
This past June 22, in a statement on the floor of the United
States Senate, Senator Russell Feingold, who has been a staunch
advocate for abolition of the death penalty, said, "Supporters
of the death penalty, including Governor Bush, have said there is
no conclusive proof that Texas has killed an innocent person."
I add, as an addendum: What nerve to be so certain about anything
-- much less innocence or guilt or the certainty that someone has
done something deserving of being murdered himself! Senator
Feingold went on to say, "Apparently, Gary Graham, who had
the courthouse doors slammed shut on his claim of innocence, won't
have a chance to prove that he is innocent." That same
evening, Gary Graham was strapped to the execution gurney, a
needle was inserted into his arms, and poisons flowed into his
veins, ending his life. That was not the first time nor will it be
the last in which the muddy waters of human and judicial judgement
drown claims of innocence and bring death to those who may never
have taken life.
I first confronted the noxious potential of capital punishment
when I read the story some years ago of Isidore Zimmerman. He had
been sentenced to death for the murder of a Police Detective upon
the testimony of a man who was part of a gang that was arrested
for the murder. All seven of the gang were found guilty. 5 were
executed in the electric chair. One died of natural causes. 2
hours before Zimmerman was scheduled to be electrocuted, his death
sentence was commuted to life in prison.
Zimmerman spent the next 24 years in New York state penitentiaries.
In 1962, finding that a prosecutor in the DA's office had
deliberately used perjured testimony and had suppressed evidence
that might have proven his innocence, an appeals court overturned
Zimmerman's conviction. 21 years later, the State Court of Claims
awarded Zimmerman $1,000,000 for his ordeal, as though they could
ever pay him for the years of suffering.
Zimmerman died four months later, having spent 24 of his 66 years
in prison for a crime in which the State finally admitted he had
played no part. The article about his death is what called my
attention to his story. I believe that he wanted to die to show
that the State could not give him back those years, not even with
$1,000,000.
This example is one among others where judicial miscarriages have
had horrifying outcomes. The statistics are awful. A recent study
undertaken by law professor James Liebman and others at Columbia
University reports that 68% of the death sentences that federal
and state courts have reviewed in the past two decades have been
overturned. In cases sent back for retrials, 82% of convicted
capital defendants received new sentences other than death,
including 7% who were found not guilty.
I believe that communities do have the right to protect themselves
from crime. We have the right to take criminals off the street,
especially for repeated crimes. Punishment needs to fit the crime,
and we also expect in this day and age that punishment will deter
crime. So, we impose fines and incarcerate because we believe that
if the lawbreaker hurts enough, he or she will not break the law
again.
But I am terriby concerned when our society turns to revenge and
takes a criminal's life as the punishment for wrongdoing. Albert
Camus described this base instinct and reflex of ours. He said
that it goes like this: "Whoever has done me harm must suffer
harm; whoever has put out my eye must lose an eye; whoever has
killed must die." This is a particularly violent emotion.
Yet, we are part of an American culture that honors vengeance --
especially in its choice to impose the death penalty. The
execution chambers in our country are humming along. For example,
just this week, Michael Scott is scheduled to be executed on
Tuesday, on Wednesday, Miguel Richardson is scheduled to die in
Texas and George Harris is scheduled to die in Missouri, and Derek
Barnabei's execution is planned in Virginia for Thursday. Only
China, Iran and Saudi Arabia execute more prisoners than we do.
These are hardly countries we would want to emulate or to be
grouped with. And we in the United States are leading the world in
imposing the death penalty for juvenile convictions. We have also
executed 34 people who have been diagnosed with mental illness or
retardation, including some individuals who could not even read
the statements they signed. James Roach from South Carolina had an
IQ below 70. He had Huntington's Disease which was causing his
brain to deteriorate. And when the State killed him in 1986, it
did so for a crime convicted when he was only 17 years old.
Our State of New York doesn't cause me to be proud either. After
decades in which the death penalty did not exist here, New York in
1995 passed death penalty legislation. We inch precariously closer
to reactivating executions, with 6 men already on New York's death
row. If we are not vigilant, we could be grooming our death
chamber to act on our behalf. Prior to the Governor of Illinois'imposition
earlier this year of a moratorium on executions, an equal number
of men there had been exonerated as had been executed since the
reimposition of capital punishment there in the 1970's. Prior to
the imposition of that moratorium, an editorial had aptly
commented, "The exonerations are not a sign that the system
is working. The innocence of many death-row prisoners was
discovered only because outsiders went to great time and expense
to investigate when the courts would not." Only sheer luck
saved the life of Walter McMillian, who was released from Alabama's
death row after having spent 6 years there on the basis of
perjured testimony and withheld evidence. After listening to a
tape of a key witness against McMillian, a volunteer lawyer
happened to flip the tape to see if there was anything on the
other side. He then heard the very same witness complain that he
had been pressured to frame McMillian. A system that requires
college students to provide justice as a class project -- as has
happened more than once at Northwestern University -- cannot be
called functional. A system that holds the balance of a man's life
in the flipping of a tape cannot be called reasonable. How many
innocent people are we going to have put to death on our behalf
because there is no one left to champion their cause, because
their time and money has run out? We know that the death penalty
is going to kill innocent men and women. We also know that the
death penalty is not an effective deterrent. A member of my
congregation, Ron Tabak, has demonstrated that empirical studies
disprove most of the popular arguments by proponents of the death
penalty, including the proposition that it will deter crime. And
above all the death penalty is unfair and unjust. It is downright
discriminatory. When Supreme Court Justice Harry Blackmun spoke at
Central Synagogue in 1993, he confided to me with a great deal of
personal pain that he, in his position as a Supreme Court Justice,
had come to know that more than a few innocent people have been
executed in this country. Justice Blackmun early in his tenure on
the Supreme Court had shamelessly voted to uphold the death
penalty. But in 1994, he officially went on record reversing
himself. In a dissent, he wrote:
"From
this day forward, I no longer shall tinker with the machinery of
death-I feel morally and intellectually obligated simply to
concede that the death penalty experiment has failed. It is
virtually self-evident to me now, that no combination of
procedural rules or substantive regulations ever can save the
death penalty from its inherent constitutional deficiencies."
Justice Blackmun knew and told me that capital punishment is
racially discriminatory, inconsistently applied, and fraught with
constitutional danger. The skin colors of the victim and the
perpetrator, the accused's financial resources or lack thereof,
the location of the trial, the identity of the judge, and the
expertise or lack thereof of the lawyers are all capricious
matters that determine whether the accused will live or die. But I
want to leave to the lawyers those constitutional arguments and
the salami approach to the law in which lawyers appropriately chip
away at the laws that are sending people to their deaths. For me,
what is important is that we are sitting together in a sanctuary.
In the spirit of this place, I proclaim that capital punishment is
absolutely antithetical to the very foundation and principles of
religious faith.
The "eye for an eye" argument that is used vociferously
by death penalty proponents -- some, sadly, my own colleagues * in
an effort to garner support from Biblical law does not fit with
what we believe. Before we use the "eye for an eye"
argument to support the modern death penalty, we had better be
especially cautious and had better start reading our Bible. I warn
you that if we begin to literally apply the laws of the Bible --
in which the death penalty is also called for those who are
adulterers, those who are blasphemers, those who don't keep the
Sabbath, and those children who might be rebellious -- we would
decimate our society. In
the Jewish tradition, the Rabbinic authorities used textual
devices to prevent the death penalty. The Rabbis interpreted the
Torah using God's aversion to murder as a basic principle. And
they referred to Torah texts which explicitly forbid capital
punishment. The
statute of an "eye for an eye" was interpreted to mean,
at its very most, the "worth of an eye" for an eye. We
have no recorded history, in Jewish tradition, of putting out eyes,
of amputating hands, or of knocking out teeth. Criminals certainly
needed to pay for wrongdoing, but not with the mutilation of their
bodies or with their lives. The eye for an eye legislation
remained conceptual and was used only in its interpreted form.
The legislation that was used and needs to be used is one
of the Commandments that stands before us everyday of our lives:
"You shall not murder."
Our forebears believed that only God has the right to take
life. Not you, not me. I
believe we must abolish the death penalty. We cannot become
murderers.
I cannot even imagine what it would be like to send 2000 volts
through three electrodes attached to the head by a tightly fitting
cap and strapped to a person's ankles. I dare not imagine the
gassing of a human being or hanging a person or the loud sounds of
a person's lungs being emptied of air by lethal injection before
the poison stops the heart. I do not want the State to do this on
my behalf. Taking a person's life by plan, by calculation, in cold
blood is nothing short of murder -- no matter how its proponents
want to make it seem different. Capital punishment is an ignoble,
irrevocable act of revenge. Once someone has been executed, you
can't go back. You can't ask for forgiveness. You can't say you
are sorry and make it all better.
When
Samuel Pisar, one of the youngest survivors of the Nazi death
camps, wrote his memoirs, he recounted an occasion in which he
first responded to a fellow student's practical joke with punches
and rage but then caught himself. He was mortified. "Fool,"
he said to himself, "what have you done? - Have those Nazis
succeeded after all? You have got to learn some self-control. You
have got to lock up the hoodlum in you and throw away the key."
My friends, each of us personally -- and all of us as a community
* must lock up the hoodlum in us and throw away the key.
I worry about what I would do if any person harmed those whom I
love. No doubt, I would want an attacker to feel pain. And let it
be that murderers spend their entire lives in prison, facing the
reality of their broken lives. But we are responsible for how we
punish. We are responsible for what we do. At our best, we should
be punishing to educate and to improve and to redeem, and should
even let out of prison those who have recreated their lives. Isn't
that what God is asking us to do: to atone, to turn our lives
around? Can't people do that, and can't we let them do that?
We can punish to deter, to protect. But we should not punish to
take revenge. It makes us murderers. It diminishes us. It begets
violence. Revenge turns us into thugs. We have no right, no reason,
to take life. God implores us, "You shall be holy because I
the Lord your God am holy." Reaching beyond our human
reflexes and grasping for divine decency is no easy matter. But,
then again, struggling to be holy is probably why God put us here
in the first place -- here in this church, here in my synagogue,
here in this creation. Sadly, it is absolutely impossible to seek
atonement from those we have put to death. They are gone! But we
can enmesh expiation in our commitment to action, to remove
capital punishment from the menu of judicial responses.
So let us stand up forcefully for the protection of life. Let us
be warriors in defense of all life. Let us take our places in
defending ourselves against forces of darkness. Let there be no
blood on our hands, as there will be if someone else who acts on
our behalf throws the switch or inserts the needle in the vein.
Let it not be that life be taken for you or for me. God needs us
to build this world, not to destroy this world. God pleads with us
to heal this world, not to harm this world. These, my friends, are
the missions before us. I pray that we will be worthy of God's
trust in our goodness. For in the end, our goodness is the tool
that God has given us to help complete this creation. Amen. |