Measured by Their Worst Mistake

"No one deserves to be measured by the worst thing he has ever done."

This powerful statement was said to me by a prisoner advocate friend of mine as we discussed the subject of advocacy. Yet, the truth is that as humans we tend to define people by their worst choices. Think about it: President Bill Clinton is remembered largely for the Monica Lewinsky scandal; Pastor Jim Baker is remembered as a womanizing cheater; OJ Simpson as a murderer who got away with it; and Bernie Madoff as a greedy scam artist. All of the other achievements and the good qualities of each of these men are overshadowed by the stain of their bad choices.

Certainly, some people are characterized by a lifetime of wrong choices and bad character, but others, either in a moment of weakness or through an unrestrained passion, erased a lifelong reputation of trustworthiness in a single act. 

Nearly all of the guilty men in prison fall into one of these two categories. Some are lifelong losers who either can't figure out how to make good choices or who refuse to out of rebellion. Others are suffering the consequences of a single bad choice, or even a small series of bad choices, that forever altered their lives and often the lives of others. But must these choices forever define these men? Must one forever remain a robber, a rapist, or a murderer? 

Politicians, celebrities, and wealthy and influencial people often hire public relations firms to remake a tarnished image; however, most ex-felons have neither the resources nor wherewithal to conduct such a makeover. Instead, they must either embrace their new identity (which many choose), or they must fight a constant uphill battle to show their commitment to new and better choices. 

Bad behavior should have consequences, but if we are to become a society that embraces restoration over retribution we must stop measuring people by their worst mistakes; instead, we must begin to define a path toward wholeness so those who regret their worst mistakes can use them as signposts for where their change began, not as a label that identifies them for life. 

Giving someone a chance at redemption can be scary. Some who attempt to redeem themselves will fail miserably. But fear of another's failure should not keep us from embracing grace. Grace might just be the only antidote for failure, and who couldn't use a little grace from others?