Burnt offerings

Drive out to the country, and you’ll find … a whole lot of nothing. Long winding roads, open fields, dense forests, an occasional farmhouse.

And churches.

Unlike citified America, where some McMansions of God dot the thoroughfares alongside strip malls and car dealerships, country churches are often the hub of rural life. It’s not that they depend on God more, just the connection among worshippers disconnected by distance.

It took arsonists only a couple of thrill-seeking evenings to torch those “networking hubs.” Federal agents arrested three Birmingham college students this week for the crime.

Perhaps saddest of all isn’t the loss of these buildings, but the loss of lives. Yes, no one was killed in the fires, but if found guilty, these typical suburban brats didn’t just incinerate churches, but their chance to better themselves.

Few people will have sympathy for anyone who burns down holy places, especially seemingly privileged kids prone to underage drinking and partying rather than college classwork.

We know those slacker students. We attended class with them. We watched with amusement, despair, even irritation as they pissed away an expensive and still-rare opportunity. They came to college, not with the mission to learn about the world or train for a career, but to cut loose on mom and dad’s dime.

About a third of Americans age 18 to 24 attend college, says the Census Bureau. The other two-thirds may not be able to afford it, or can’t get in because of poor schooling during the first 12 years. Or they want to get to work.

Take Chris and Cody, the teenage subjects of a recently aired six-hour documentary on PBS’ “Frontline” called “Country Boys.” The two high schoolers live in the poorest part of eastern Kentucky, attending the David School, a kind of last chance school for delinquents and dropouts.

Filmed over three years, we see the two struggle with family and financial woes while coming to grips with growing into men. They’re bright, they’re tough, and they’re sensitive to those around them. Cody, who lost both parents to suicide, wants to be a preacher because he feels God has given him so much. Chris, who works mighty hard to care for his splintering family (alcoholic father and barely supportive mother), graduates high school against the odds.

Chris wants to go to college, but can’t afford it. And he knows how difficult getting ahead in life can be without that higher education.

These kids got it, even though they were academic and societal rejects for much of their upbringing. They made mistakes over and over, but they pulled it together to take that last chance and make themselves into better people.

They became men.

More often, we see the spoils of affluence in the spoiled youth of today and tomorrow. Sure, we made mistakes and got drunk in college — but we didn’t commit felonies out of boredom.

And we understand the fervor of those who would send the guilty culprits to prison for a long, long time. But to what end?

If these three students plead guilty, may we suggest an alternate sentence? Split them up and send them to the country for hard labor. Let each one work alongside the congregations and the construction crews every day nonstop to rebuild those churches. Give them the worst tasks: roofing under the midday July sun, hammering each two-by-four without benefit of a nail gun, digging pipe trenches in the hard red clay.

They’ll meet the folks they injured. They’ll see firsthand the world is not their playground but their home, full of good people trying their hardest just to make it. To forgive. To forget.

The total estimated damage for the nine church fires is $1 million. The convicted felons should also be forced to tithe their lifetime earnings to these churches. Each weekly paycheck will be a reminder of their crime — and their penance. Maybe it won’t be a million, but it’s a start.

That’s it. We reserve prison for the most dangerous criminals and for those with the hope of rehabilitation. But rebuilding the churches and repaying the damage should help the guilty on the road to salvation.

(It was either that or send them to Aruba: They can’t come back until they return with Natalee, dead or alive.)

The arsonists screwed up. Our punishment fits their crime.

Maybe the next time you drive out to the country, we’ll see the rebirth of a church — and one last chance for all of us to better ourselves.

Posted: Friday, March 10, 2006, 4:31 pm, in B'ham, Bama, Culture.
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