You know an election is just round the corner when billboards lie scattered along the roadsides and a new poll is out each day. Dominating this year’s race is the global financial crisis (who can get us out of this economic maelstrom?), but close behind is the issue of law and order.
I want to talk about the latter this morning.
A flick through the morning papers show crime is a growing problem in New Zealand. Violent crime, we’re told, is on the increase. In the last couple of weeks we’ve watched as a young Christian family farewell their Good Samaritan father, fatally stabbed while helping a person he didn’t know; we’ve read about Auckland dairy owners arming themselves against knife-wielding intruders; and we’ve sat back and listened to the trial of a man accused of brutally killing a deaf woman.
The news is far from good and it raises many questions: What is going wrong in our society? And what can be done? Is the solution to lock repeat violent offenders away for life, as is the call from some political parties and many a talkback listener, or are there other more effective alternatives?
We can all understand the concerns of ordinary New Zealanders. Most agree the most violent of offenders need to be removed from society. Victims deserve justice, and the public have a right to live without fear. But is a criminal justice system based on retribution and exclusion the best way forward?
In answering these questions, it is helpful to take a closer look at the scriptures.
In the opening books of the Bible, it is clear the Israelites were tough on crime. The writer of Exodus says, ‘an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’  If a person, acting with intent, strikes another and kills them, then they too should be put to death. Capital punishment was employed in the worst of cases.
But what is often overlooked is this law, the lex talionis, the law of retaliation, was a merciful response to a situation that had got out of hand. Revenge was to be limited and restrained.
A story I read this week illustrates the alternative. A man was caught stealing a cabbage in the Highlands of Papua New Guinea and the disagreement escalated into a tribal conflict. The thief and a pig were killed and his brother badly injured. Is this justice, or would a lesson in Jewish law have helped the situation?
In another place, in the book of Isaiah, the prophet declares ‘The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me because the Lord has anointed me… to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to those in prison.’  Claus Westermann, a noted Old Testament scholar, remarks that this reference is not to the exiles in Babylon, but to those put in prison for failure to pay back debts and the like.
These words were later picked up by Jesus as he began his ministry. He used them to define what he had come to do.  And he wasn’t just talking metaphorically. Jesus was often found amongst the outcasts of society, sinners and those of ill repute, many of whom would fill our prisons today; and he died a criminal’s death. Yet his message was not that of retribution. He preached forgiveness not fear, compassion not cruelty.
And it is worth remembering one of the more significant figures of the New Testament was once a violent man. He condoned the stoning of Stephen, the first Christian martyr, and was involved in many other acts of brutality against the followers of the Way. The person I am referring to is, of course, St Paul. A man with blood on his hands, yet someone who demonstrates change is possible.
His story also reminds us forgiveness is a feature of the Christian community. After his dramatic conversion on the road to Damascus, Paul was welcomed by the disciples. They treated him as a brother, and he grew to become their greatest advocate of reconciliation. 
We see this evident in today’s epistle. Writing from prison - the shoe now on the other foot, a victim of violence himself - Paul urges us to look to Christ as our example. His response was not one of hatred towards his offenders, but of love.
‘All that is true, all that is noble, all that is just and pure, all that is loveable and gracious, whatever is excellent and admirable – fill all your thoughts with these things.’
So, the scriptures show us a movement from retribution to restoration. Jesus and Paul knew change was possible in people. And thankfully their message has been picked up by others through the centuries.
One such example is Elizabeth Fry. She may not be well known to us here, but her image appears on five pound notes. Born at the end of the eighteenth century, she was the daughter of a wealthy Quaker family and later married a banker. But she didn’t hide behind her privilege; she used it for the good of others.
Her life changed as a result of a visit to London’s notorious Newgate prison. Disgusted by what she saw, fellow human beings living and dying in conditions of horror, filth and cruelty, she resolved to make a difference.
She continued to visit the prisons and encouraged others to do the same. She set up education classes for women, overcoming official opposition. She told people in the outside world about what she saw. And through a campaign of reform, she was instrumental in bringing about change in the British criminal system.
We remember Elizabeth Fry in our church’s calendar today, and her example causes us to consider our response to crime in this country. How many of us have stepped inside a prison? Do we know what it is like? And how do we view those convicted of criminal acts? Are we able to see Christ in them?
The parable Jesus told of the sheep and the goats comes to mind.
‘When did we see you ill or in prison and come to visit you? ’ the people ask. To which the king replies, ‘I tell you this, anything you did for one of my brothers (or sisters) here, however humble, you did for me.’
Another person working for change is Andrew Coyle. Earlier this year he spoke at a conference to mark the 25th anniversary of Prison Fellowship New Zealand. He was a prison governor for some 25 years and is now Professor of Prison Studies at King’s College, London.
I didn’t attend the conference, but his address makes insightful reading.
Since 1998 New Zealand’s prison population has increased from 5500 to over 8300, and it is predicted that this will increase by a further 15% over the next seven years.
In America one in a hundred adults is now behind bars. Their total prison population is 2.3 million!
New Zealand is ranked seventh in incarceration rates in the OECD. For every 100 000 people, 197 are in prison. This compares with Australia where the number is only 130.
Coyle asks: ‘To what extent is the traditional model of imprisonment still relevant at the beginning of the 21st century? Has the time come for a radical re-think of the concept of imprisonment and the prison?’
In particular, he notes how in some countries there is little concern for the increasing numbers of people in prison. ‘Prisons as we know them today’, he says, ‘are based on the notion of exclusion from society. Such a notion sits very uneasily with the concept of a society which is integrated and in which everyone is meant to contribute to the good of others.’
He favours a model based on the idea of restorative justice.
Not far from here, a prison unit has been in operation since 2003 which offers something different. The Faith Based Unit at Rimutaka Prison is based on Christian values, and focuses on preparing inmates for the outside world. The success of this programme is evident in the rate of reoffending. Nationally one in four inmates re-offends within a year of leaving prison, the rate from this unit has been as low as 7%.
As their brochure reads:
‘This program is our chance to demonstrate… that Christ changes lives, and that changing prisoners from the inside out really works.’
So may we look beyond the rhetoric of this election; may our eyes be opened to see the presence of Christ in the other; and may we do what we can to bring about the change necessary in our community.
Let me finish with the words of a politician, Winston Churchill.
‘The mood and temper of the public in regard to the treatment of crime and criminals is one of the most unfailing tests of the civilization of any country… and unfailing faith that there is a treasure if only you can find it, in the heart of every man – these are the symbols which in the treatment of crime and criminals mark and measure the stored-up strength of a nation, and are the sign and proof of the living virtue in it.’ 
I think they say it all!
A sermon preached in St Alban’s Anglican Church, Eastbourne, on Sunday 12 October 2008, by the Ven Damon Plimmer.