Lighting the Torch of Conscience

The sun glistened on the reflecting pool on this clear April morning in Atlanta. In the shadow of the tomb of Martin Luther King Jr., a torch was lit for human dignity and justice. It was held high by Delbert Tibbs, a man who spent several years on Florida's death row until he was found innocent of the crime for which he had been sentenced to death. As the flame came to life in his hands, Tibbs quoted Deuteronomy 30:19 -- "I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your descendants may live."

Organizers of the April 14 event hope that this torch is just the first of many "torches of conscience" that will be lit, sweeping the nation's religious community with a new fire of resolve to work to abolish the death penalty in the United States, the only Western democracy that still practices capital punishment. National religious leaders converged on Atlanta to help launch a year-long, nationwide campaign that will culminate in the spring of 1990 with a 330-mile march from Starke, Florida -- home of Florida's electric chair -- to inner-city Atlanta.

Almost every major religious body in the country has put forth a statement condemning the death penalty. And yet in the last decade more than 100 people have been executed by the state, and 2,100 others live under sentence of death.

Numerous studies have shown that the death penalty is racist and arbitrary in its application; more costly than life imprisonment (litigation of one capital case costs about three times more than sustaining a person in prison for 40 years); and murder rates are lower in states that have abolished the death penalty, dashing the myth that capital punishment is a deterrent to violent crime. But most compelling of all to people of faith, the death penalty denies the sacredness of human life and the redemptive power of God, making a mockery of Jesus' commandments of forgiveness and mercy (see "Seventy Times Seven," page 28).

This forgiveness is best exemplified by those who have experienced the pain of losing a loved one to violence -- persons with the most reason to demand capital punishment -- and yet have spoken out against it. In Atlanta, Camille Bell, whose son Yusef was murdered along with many other Atlanta children in 1979, stated: "I'm here as a witness to say that the death penalty is wrong. I say that because I know the pain; and no other mother should have to bear that pain -- even if her son killed my son."

Kerry Kennedy, who was 8 years old when her father, Robert F. Kennedy, was assassinated, added her voice to Bell's. Electric chairs, gas chambers, and lethal needles, she said, "won't bring back my father; they will only take someone else's." Martin Luther King III echoed words of his father: "If we continue to live by the philosophy of 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,' most of us will be without eyes or teeth." He called for an end to the spiral of revenge and violence that capital punishment perpetuates.

Following their testimony, religious leaders came forth one by one to receive a large candle and sign a statement, which said, in part, "We believe that the imposition of the death penalty is inconsistent with our religious values, which include respect for human life, nonviolence, restoration and reconciliation, and the message of God's redemptive love." Rev. Fred D. Taylor of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference then led the gathering in the singing of "This Little Light of Mine" and "We Shall Overcome."

After the singing, the candles were blown out. Helen Prejean, C.S.J., one of the "Lighting the Torch of Conscience" campaign organizers, announced, "We blow out the candles after the last song, because we are the fire!"

Prejean's words stand as a challenge to all of us. The time has come for a new resolve among us to end the terrible scourge of capital punishment.

Joyce Hollyday was associate editor of Sojourners when this article appeared.