Standing in the Gap

Seems like I have ended up in court a lot lately. For anybody waiting for Jesus to bring His kingdom in all of its fullness, experiencing the justice system in the “kingdom” of America always creates some tension. What does it mean to seek civil justice in light of God’s gracious kingdom justice? What does it look like to live in the kingdom of God, with all of its cheek turning, enemy love, and free forgiveness, while at the same time living in civil society, with its need for retributive justice, accountability, and safety? These questions have haunted me every time I’ve encountered the court system, but answering them feels like it’s far above my pay grade. 

God’s People Everywhere 

Recently, though, God has used His people to embody some of the beginnings of an answer. Two months ago, several staff members went to support my friend “James” in his trial over probation violation. In that court appearance, I knew the defendant, a public defender who counseled the defender assigned to my friend, one of the prosecutors from the courtroom, and the judge. One of the letters we sent to the judge had pictures of one of the prosecutor’s children in James’s lap at an Advance Memphis Christmas party! And while the entire proceedings gave me more questions than answers, it quickly became clear that in different ways and different places, each of these friends of ours were trying to seek God’s kingdom in the middle of this big, messy situation. 

For Lack Of Knowledge A People Perish 

But what about us? As a friend of defendants in two recent cases, I had been wondering about where those of us outside of the legal profession fit into all of this. And then last week I heard the judge (who I didn’t know) asking “Derrick,” a friend of mine, questions about his failure to comply with his probation by driving without a license. 

Speak to me in English! Look at me when you’re talking, said the judge. But what he took for disrespect I knew was fear and Derrick’s lack of confidence in his own verbal abilities. 

Why didn’t you just go get a license like everyone else when you turned 16? You just never bothered to do that? said the judge. But I knew that Derrick’s mother had never owned a car nor had a license, and that in our neighborhood it is far from normal to get a license at that age. Almost nobody does it. 

So you were living with your mom and her boyfriend and your girlfriend when you missed your probation. And none of them could drive you to your probation meetings to keep you out of jail? You couldn’t get a ride from any of them? said the judge. “No,” I thought, “Derrick’s mom doesn’t have a car. They live in the poorest urban area in the state. Very few people have cars, and if they do they aren’t reliable.” So while Derrick was totally responsible for failing to get to his probation meetings, the judge seemed to have oversimplified what truly was a serious obstacle him. 

You see, even though I believe this judge was really trying to do his part, and even though he works with folks like Derrick every day, he doesn’t understand anything about what Derrick’s life is really like. What seems obvious to this judge isn’t obvious to Derrick, and the opportunities that this judge took for granted were never offered to him. 

Standing In The Gap 

And so that’s where we come in. This same judge asked me, “do you swear to tell the truth” as I took the stand to talk about all of the obstacles Derrick had overcome, about all the hard work he’d put in, and all he’d accomplished above and beyond what his neighbors, friends, and the system had expected of him. And in reflecting on that question about telling the truth, something has become clear to me. Part of what God means when He calls His people to stand in the gap on behalf of the poor and marginalized is this:  

He’s calling us to tell the other side of the story. He’s calling us to recognize the image-of-Godness which is every human being’s heritage but which so often gets lost in the shuffle of poverty, marginalization, and brokenness.

And the body of Christ is doing just that. Over the last several months, we’ve seen a tremendous outpouring of staff and volunteers trying to come alongside those who are in prison or facing prison. Two of our champions have visited “Richard,” a JFL grad who was recently incarcerated, almost weekly for months. Another volunteer took the stand after me and not only pledged his belief in Derrick, but pledged his commitment to help him succeed if he was released. Earlier this year, Kashara Taylor, a woman in our community was killed by a gun shot by her boyfriend, although it was reportedly an accident. One of our staff, who was extremely close to Kashara, has not only written letters of comfort to the shooter but has actually visited him in prison. Elsewhere, another champion, himself a lawyer, took the stand to testify on behalf of his friend “Rodney,” a participant in our GED program.

Actions That Demand Questions
And God is moving. The attorney in Derrick’s case sent me an email thanking us for being willing to testify and assuring me that the judge would have been unwilling to extend mercy if he didn’t believe that the Advance program really would help the defendant make different choices. Another attorney, the public defender who represented James, pulled us aside and said:

"I can’t thank y’all enough for being here. You can’t imagine how many teenage murderers I represent, and two years in I’ve never met a single family member. Your presence here makes all the difference."

Imagine the impact it must make on Richard’s life to be visited weekly during his prison stay by two men from an entirely different world. Imagine the impact on our Rodney and Derrick’s lives when their Champions take time off work to literally take the witness stand on their behalf. And imagine the real overflowing of God’s justice that occurs when judges, defenders, and prosecutors alike hear firsthand the other side of the defendant’s story, when they’re reminded that though a person may be a criminal, they are never just that. They are first and foremost image bearers of God, and although the decisions they have made may mean that they can and should lose some of their rights, neither human decision nor the highest court in the land can take away the dignity that is their heritage as an image bearer of the Almighty God.

When the body of Christ works together to relationally engage with the poor and marginalized, it not only opens our eyes to the numerous layers of justice and injustice we never knew existed, but it also strengthens our ability to seek God’s kingdom justice wherever we are. And whether you’re the judge or the defendant, it’s the Spirit of God working through the body of Christ that will most powerfully call each of us to seek first Jesus’ kingdom and His righteousness, allowing everything else to be added unto it.

Michael Rhodes
mrhodes@advancememphis.org