Jail: Perfect for a Little Me-Time

FORMER TRUMP campaign manager Paul Manafort has a lot of time these days to relax, put his feet up, and fondly remember his sweet career as a jet-setting consultant to politicians whose character flaws were easily offset by their deep pockets. Those were the days, he muses from his bunk in a Virginia detention center, his snug cell reminding him of the similarly cozy—and opulent—cabins of the private jets he used to hire.

While I would never, in this data-driven world that strips people of their humanity, reduce a man to a mere number, his is 45343. (Which I’m totally playing in next week’s Pick Five lotto! Why should Manafort have all the luck?)

Most people awaiting trial for wrongdoing involving millions of dollars in bribes, kickbacks, and influence peddling—you know, victimless crimes—can remain in the comfort of their own homes. And Manafort did this for a few months, padding around his house in slippers and a decorative ankle monitor (available in beige or artichoke). But being a social guy, he couldn’t stop contacting a Russian associate to discuss ways to help potential witnesses remember that he did nothing wrong. This was considered witness tampering by a judge, although I call it “just getting your stories straight,” which is important when facing trial. (I’d also suggest posting your innocence on Facebook, because the number of “likes” is now part of the senten-cing guidelines.)

Without a doubt, Manafort is a profoundly unsympathetic character whose collusion with authoritarian leaders was not confined to Donald Trump. He earned millions working for the corrupt government of Ukraine before it was ousted, and then applied his unscruples to the highest bidders back home.

But to be fair—and I really hate saying this—he now deserves our sympathy and compassion.

Because he is on The List.

It’s not a long list, but it’s very specific, with little wiggle room for interpretation. The List comes from the Bible, in both Testaments, with clear line items: Care for the poor, feed the hungry, comfort the sick, welcome the stranger, and—wait for it—release to the captives.

Sitting in a jail cell, Manafort is now on that list and not eligible for the righteous scorn we Christians are anxious to dole out. “Lock him up!” may not be in our vernacular, but when “justice rolls down like waters” we want to decide who gets wet. And we usually cast our fiery judgement where it hurts the most: on Instagram. (Or when the clear voice of God is demanded, we tweet.)

Unfortunately, loving your enemies doesn’t come with loopholes (a little help, Mueller?!). From Isaiah to Jesus, “release to the captives” is one of the biggies. Although, in Manafort’s case, is it too much to ask for due process first? How about a “slow release” to the captives, like one of those 24-hour gel caps for a cold? (Do they have one that takes 10 to 15 years, with time off for good behavior?)

Thank goodness for The List since I, too, am an incorrigible scofflaw, a hardened criminal deserving of my punishments. Although my crimes were not in pursuit of filthy lucre—if I knew what lucre was, I’d probably want it cleaned and folded—I have been convicted of crimes and languished in jail as a result.

My longest incarceration was for 10 days. I was also kept in lock-up overnight and later, unrepentant and clearly a recidivist, I was put in lock-up again, shivering in a 4- x-8-foot cell with a metal bed and matching commode. (Who knew you should bring your own toilet paper?!)

While Manafort acted with shadowy figures tied to the Kremlin, I was accompanied by non-Russian Christian activists when we, to cite one example, lay down in a street to interfere with a trade show of arms manufacturers. (Frankly, I was glad to be handcuffed and led away. The asphalt didn’t have my sleep number and I was getting stiff.)

In that civil disobedience, and in many others, we acted against injustice to the vulnerable. In contrast, the rapacious Paul Manafort was, essentially, protesting the injustice of having to fly coach.

To be clear, when the Prophet Isaiah called for release to the captives, he’s referring mainly to those wrongly imprisoned, as opposed to the Profit Manafort, who could be rightly imprisoned. But we can’t split hairs or, in my case, foreheads. As much as we want to be God’s henchpersons, vengeance ain’t ours to give. (So not fair!)

Manafort will probably get a presidential pardon anyway. But don’t think for a minute it will be biblical.