It was dark and cold when we left the prison that night. As always, several of the inmates helped us with our gear. We came to a gate, and one of them said, “I can’t go beyond that line. You’ll have to take it from there.” We thanked him for his assistance, loaded the bus and went home.

The reason I remember that incident is that his picture appeared in the Knoxville News Sentinel about two weeks later. According to the article, he was serving a minimum of twenty-five years for murder. I remember feeling unnerved.

As I’ve thought about that incident, I’ve wondered why I was unnerved. Was I merely being a prig, smug in my own moral superiority? Was I irrationally afraid that he would do something to me? Perhaps, but I suspect that it was something deeper.

Inmates have one big advantage over me. I get to hide my wretchedness  – to an extent. I’m a father and husband, I have a respectable job, and from external appearances, I’m living the American dream. House, two cars, bank account, etc. I’ve only had one traffic ticket in my life.

Contrast that with an inmate. His entire existence screams at him that he’s done something that merits punishments measured in years. The bed he sleeps in, the food he eats, the place he lives, even down to the TDOC (Tennessee Department Of Corrections) written all over his clothing broadcast his state to the whole world. His advantage? He has a much harder time denying that he desperately needs someone to remake him from the inside out.

Don’t we counter with, “Surely I’m not that bad”? The problem is that, Jesus would disagree. Ever look at a Playboy? According to Jesus, you’re an adulterer. Ever loaf on the job? You’re a thief. Ever mutter “God!” when you hit yourself with a hammer? You’re a blasphemer. Work too much, eat too much, love the world too much? You’re an idolater. The list goes on.

With respect to the inmate above, ever gossiped or slandered someone? You guessed it – you’re a murderer. That also means that I am all of those things I listed and worse. I only covered half of the Ten Commandments.

The inmate, by his very existence, reminded me that, perhaps, we’re more alike than I dare to admit.

That’s the bad news. The good news is that the gospel cries out that no man is beyond the reach of God’s grace. The temptation exists for us to believe that we have sinned too many times or too heinously. Jesus tells us that we’ve broken all the commandments many times in many heinous ways, and yet can still be adopted as God’s sons.

It’s a message not only for anyone who’s killed a man, it’s for all of us who’ve wanted to.