Windows and the Prison of Sin
By Fr. Dan McKean

Even though the windows in my car are shamefully dirty, unclean windows are one of my pet peeves. Clean glass not only gives us a clearer view of the world, but it is usually a sign of care and cleanliness. This is one of the most frustrating aspects of trying to maintain a church that has so much glass. As soon as the windows are washed, somebody comes by and smudges them up – sometimes it is cute to see the tiny handprints.

So, as I waited for my appointment to show up, it was only natural that I noticed just how dirty the windows were where she was staying. These windows were not just dirty – they were encrusted with fingerprints and huge impressions of entire hands were all over the glass. It was obvious that no one even made an attempt to try and keep the glass clean. While clean windows are usually a sign of something good, in this place dirty windows were encouraged and expected. After all, this was the prisoner’s visiting room at the Livingston County Jail. This is the place where loved ones are separated by a thick sheet of glass. Their only contact is through a phone on the wall and hands trying to connect through the glass. For many loved ones this was as close as you are going to be allowed.

As proof that there is an exception to every rule, here dirty windows still do give you a clear view of what the world on the other side looks like. For the hour that I had to wait for the arrival of the inmate, we both shared in the reality that we were locked behind heavy steel doors – separated from the world and from freedom. I was there by choice, she by an imposed sentence.

Prisons are not a fun place to be. They are places of unwilling confinement. Those on the inside lose touch with their loved ones. Assuming that justice is working properly, these are the consequences of our own behavior – a condition that a person usually has a major role in bringing upon himself. Freedom does not come until parole, or the full sentence is served.

As I sat waiting, I could not help but draw similarities between my visit to the prison and the effect of our sin. Psalm 37:9 proclaims, "Those who do evil will be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord will possess the land. Most of our sins do not land us incarcerated in jails or prisons, but they do often begin to build walls around us. Little by little, they may alienate us from those we love, or cause us to separate ourselves from the rest of society. Sin usually does this little by little – step-by-step, perhaps even before we come to realize what has happened.

Sin may just weigh us down, leading us to physical, spiritual, or emotional paralysis. One of the most dramatic aspects of the movie "The Passion of the Christ" was the artistic portrayal of how difficult it was even for Jesus to bare the sins of the world. Often sin has the effect of loading us down with baggage and ballast.

One of the most powerful images of sin is that of the tomb, a place of death where we are completely imprisoned in darkness and grief. As Romans 6:23 reminds us, "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." This the great symbol of our Easter joy. Not only did Jesus rise from the dead, but He died for our sins. He was the lamb of sacrifice, who took away the sins of the world. Again, St. Paul says to the Romans, "For Christ, while we were still helpless, yet died at the appointed time for the ungodly. Indeed, only with difficulty does one die for a just person, though perhaps for a good person one might even find courage to die. But God proves His love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us." (5:6-7)

Jesus is our freedom from all that imprisons us. In fact, it is the very handprint of God that often we see on the windows of our lives. Jesus reaches out to us – to set us free. Let this be a season where we not only reach out to Jesus, but know that God is reaching into our hearts. If you need proof of this, look at the windows of your life. I suspect you will see them covered with the handprints of love and mercy.