Recovery and Justice
In this column, I had planned to unpack what justice means in a life of recovery. In his blog, “Selected Papers of William L. White,” White writes: “Recovery is many things, but it is at its best a platform for justice. Recovery without justice is a strained and haunted recovery.”1
White is referring to our need to make amends for the harm we have done to others and ourselves during our addiction. When we pile harm upon harm in our quest for oblivion or our craving for comfort, we accumulate what White calls “debt” that we must face in our recovery.
The process of facing our debts, accepting consequences, and redressing wrongs as best we can, starts with the Fourth Step and continues the rest of our lives. The Tenth Step, for instance, reminds us to review our day before we go to sleep and, when our actions warrant it, to apologize or make other amends as soon as possible.
This is important, for we cannot be in recovery if we do not look honestly at who we are and what we’ve done and then do our best to create justice from the ashes of injustice.
Restorative Justice
That is, pretty much, what I was going to say in this newsletter. Then a meeting I attended reminded me of the concept of “restorative justice,” and this column became more complex.
In one respect, restorative justice is what White is talking about. In recovery, we do our best to “restore” damaged relationships. Yet, restorative justice involves not just the individual and the individuals he or she harmed; restorative justice also involves the community.
The meeting I attended brought law enforcement and neighborhood leaders together to explore how best to build community, improve living conditions, and reduce homelessness and crime.
We at the table had a chance to introduce ourselves and talk about what our organizations were doing.
What started as a typical round robin of details and updates became more interesting when a gentleman likened gang violence to terrorism, suggesting that Homeland Security needed to get involved in suppressing gang activity.
About Youth Gangs
I could feel the tension among at least half the participants in the room, but no one spoke. It was clear nothing we said would change his perspective. After all, he was right: gang violence is a problem. Some residents are afraid to walk down the street, and they worry every time they send their children to school.
Yet those who are injured or killed, and those who are afraid, are not the only victims. Young people usually join gangs not because they want to hurt others so much as because they need to belong. They need a place where they are accepted. In gangs, young people find structure, clear rules, and rewards for loyalty.
Our broken, addicted society no longer has a place for adolescents. Understanding the stories of people who join gangs is important, for it gives us empathy.
On the other hand, we can’t ignore the violence and criminal activity perpetrated by gang members.
Reacting to Evil
In a collection of essays by religious leaders that was published in response to the destruction of the Twin Towers on 911, Rabbi David Wolpe defends anger: anger at God and anger at those who do evil. He declares that those who commit such crimes will not care about our understanding and empathy, and that we should be grateful for the power we have to stop them.
“Do not lament power,” he writes. “We know too much history. It is the only bulwark guarding the abyss. Powerlessness in the face of evil leads to Auschwitz.”2
While I agree with Wolpe, I also believe we can use his words to justify over-reacting.
Responding to Aggression
First, not everyone who commits a crime, or even kills someone, is evil. On the Universalist Recovery Church’s Facebook page, I quoted Father Greg Boyle who said, “Dreamer is a wonderful, wonderful kid. . . . And he shot a little girl. A lot of people can’t hold those two thoughts together. But the task of a true human being is to do just that.”3
Second, using power does not have to mean using force. Militarizing the police so they can treat gang members like terrorists may be powerful, but it is not a healthy use of power, and it not justice.
Justice is only just if it brings healing to the victim and to the community.
Restorative justice is designed to do exactly that. It brings the victim and the offender together with the community so together they can come up with a plan to repair the harm that was done.
The Process of Restorative Justice
In the process, restorative justice can bring healing to the perpetrator, as well. I realize some people might not see that as a positive outcome, because they believe offenders deserve to suffer, perhaps for their entire life.
Unfortunately, such suffering keeps offenders locked in their shame and resentment, separated from pro-social community, and more likely to commit more crimes. Not every offender will want to, or have the ability to, take part in a restorative justice process. Sometimes power – as in the use of force – is necessary to keep a community safe.
But the people who are able to engage in a restorative justice process, will not only find it easier to create meaningful lives as they engage in recovery, but may find it easier to live with themselves.
White ends his blog with these words: “. . . recovery without justice is an incomplete and festering recovery. Recovery with justice allows us to bury the ghosts of the past and to live with ourselves in the present.”4
The twelve steps allow us to do that with the individuals we have harmed, sometimes reconciling couples and families. Restorative justice allows us to do that with the support of the community, often bringing reconciliation and healing to everyone.
In faith and fondness,
Barbara
Credits
- White, William L., “Recovery and Justice,” “Selected Papers of William L. White,” http://www.williamwhitepapers.com/blog/2014/01/recovery-and-justice.html, January 17, 2014.
- Wolpe, David, “Don’t Tell Me We Should Not Blame God,” ed. Beliefnet, From the Ashes: A Spiritual Response to the Attack on America, Emmaus, PA: Rodale Books, 2001, p. 38.
- Fremon, Celeste, G-Dog and the Homeboys, New York: Hyperion, 1995, 68.
- White.
Photo by Nils Huber on Unsplash