Last week, I read a news article about a very serious trial occurring in New York City. And today, I realized that writing something about that trial is a high priority for me.
But first, here is at least a photo of Grandma:
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| From Grandma |
Disclaimer: Below, I will be talking about a very serious criminal trial. The details are all from publicly-available sources from Google News, mostly The New York Times, and there will be no photos. That said, I can imagine some people thinking, "Wow, I wish I hadn't read about that." I don't know how to tell whether that's you or not. I suppose you could pray about it. I will say this is a real trial with real people.
Today was Communion Sunday. Communion is for honoring the sacrifice of Jesus. At church, they chose this day to start a $1.5-million, 3-year capital campaign. I don't know if that's good or bad. For my part, I was mostly thinking about the trial I had read about.
The headline that first caught my eye was "Defense in Cannibal Case Focuses on the Line Between Intent and Fantasy."
There is a man named Gilberto Valle. Gilberto is 28 years old. He is a New York City police officer with a wife and an infant daughter.
Gilberto is on trial, facing a maximum sentence of life in prison. He is charged with plotting on the Internet to kidnap, rape, kill and cannibalize female victims. Gilberto's wife turned him in, before she fled to another state with their child. She had discovered that Gilberto visited fetish Web sites: the first thing she saw on one was a picture of a dead girl. Later, she found that Gilberto had been chatting on the Internet about plans to torture and kill women, including herself.
Gilberto has admitted that he's had a cannibalism fetish for several years. He also has admitted visiting certain fetish Web sites. Most importantly, Gilberto has acknowledged having Internet chats about kidnapping, torturing, killing and eating real women. (Some portions of the chats are quoted in the news articles, and they were definitely disturbing to me.)
To be clear, no one has found any evidence that Gilberto has actually kidnapped, raped, killed or cannibalized anyone. And "none of the women who prosecutors say [Gilberto] singled out were kidnapped or harmed."
The prosecution claims that Gilberto "had been plotting real crimes to kill actual victims," while the defense claims that Gilberto "had merely been living out deviant fantasies in Internet chat rooms, with no intention of carrying them out."
At this point, your brain may be swirling with questions, and emotions.
One question: When does a fantasized crime become an actual crime?
Another: How deep are our principles about the freedom to think, the freedom to say, the freedom to write even the darkest thoughts from our human imagination?
Practically, we have this question: Should Gilberto go to prison and be isolated from the rest of society, or should he be as free in society as most everyone else?
The above are legal questions. They are important, but they are legal. The reason I wanted to write this post is because of human questions.
Would it be a tragedy if Gilberto actually carried out any of the plans he discussed in his Internet chats? (Yes.)
Has the revelation of Gilberto's Internet chats done emotional harm to his wife and the other women mentioned in the chats? (Yes. Though presumably Gilberto never intended for his wife or the other women to know.)
Do you think Gilberto chose this fetish? Do you think he made a conscious decision to like this sort of thing?
Does Jesus love Gilberto? Does Jesus love Gilberto as much as he loves your children, your significant other and your best friend?
In Jesus' eyes, are we better than Gilberto? Are we more deserving of Jesus' love? If Gilberto actually had committed the crimes described in his Internet chats, would that change the answers?
In this trial, who is probably hurting the most right now? I'd say Gilberto's wife, the women involved in the case, and Gilberto. Of all these, who probably feels the most hated, the most abandoned and the most unloved right now?
When reading an article on the Internet, half the fascination is not the article but the comments from other readers. (I don't think The New York Times articles have any comments, but other news outlets do.) But as I read the comments, I became very sad. Many people seemed to treat Gilberto like he was worse than dirt. They hoped he would be put in prison … and violated and killed in prison. Some felt Gilberto hadn't committed a crime, but they still wanted him shipped off to Siberia with other deviants. There was just this feeling of overwhelming belittlement and contempt.
And then I realized, this trial is not just about whether Gilberto is found guilty or innocent, whether he goes to jail or not. I'm not on the jury; I don't know all the evidence and all the arguments. But I do know this: Gilberto's life is in many ways over. Imagine Gilberto goes free: what will he do? He's lost his wife, child and job. How many friends will he have? What will his family think? Some people will probably be outraged, and Gilberto will receive death threats (or even real threats acted out). Who will ever hire him? Rent to him? Date him? Talk to him? Who will ever love or care for him?
This trial has probably wounded a lot of people: all the women involved, all the people in Gilberto's life. But most or all of those people are probably receiving extra loving attention: except Gilberto. Especially when I consider all the negative energy and negative thoughts that must be directed at him every day.
Some time ago, I made a commitment to follow a man the best way I knew how: One day at a time, doing what I think he wants me to do. Many times, that means doing what he would do, what he did by example. One of those things he did was to love the unloved, unconditionally.
So, here I'm taking a stand:
Gilberto Valle, I care about you. As a brother in humanity, as a human being, I care about you. Even if they convict you, I care about you. Even if you did commit some horrendous crime in reality, I care about you. Even if you go free but never get over your fetish, I care about you. Even if you mess up in the future and do something terrible, I still care about you. Even if people hate me because I care, I still care about you.
What do love and care look like in this case? Honestly, I don't quite know, which is partly why I'm writing. Sometimes caring is helping someone out, and sometimes caring is not enabling someone. But I think the following are good, small steps: Gilberto Valle, I'm saying I care for you. Gilberto, I will pray for you. Gilberto, I hope for the best for you. Gilberto, I pray that you spend an eternity in joy, in heaven.
As I mentioned above, I started writing this post on Communion Sunday. Communion celebrates Jesus' sacrifice for us and his victory over evil forces. That last part is not Jesus fighting "evil people" or even "people who have evil thoughts." In fact, from Jesus' perspective, we have all been evil, but Jesus cared for and still cares for every single person, unconditionally.
Ephesians 6:12: "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."
Romans 5:8–10: "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us … when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son."Is Jesus stronger than Gilberto's sin? Is Jesus stronger than Gilberto's fetish?
Ah, it's been a long post, and I'm tired. This isn't supposed to be a perfect post, or a complete statement. But I feel it's really important to say something, to stand up for people no matter what they've done. I definitely want the women in Gilberto's life to be cared for as much as Gilberto, and right now, that doesn't seem to be an issue.
I've implied this post is about more than whether Gilberto goes to jail. It's also about more than Gilberto. As this is my blog, it's of course about me. And you.
The stand I'm taking for Gilberto is a stand I want to take for any of you, whenever you feel unloved. And me writing this is my way of letting you or anyone else hold me accountable. Five years from now—or tomorrow—if I'm not loving you unconditionally, I want you to call me on it. Show me this post, and remind me of what I signed up for. Remind me of what really matters.
I'm taking this stand, too, as I write this, as much as I know how:
I care about you. No matter what you did, I care about you. No matter what happens or what you do in the future, I care about you. No matter what others say or do to me because of you, I care about you. I care about you unconditionally.
