Guest column: Execution of Jessie Hoffman does not serve no purpose | Guest split

During my first visit to the center in Louisiana State Penitentiary as a Buddhist chaplain, I remember how loud it was. Clanking metal and men who try to talk to each other in side-by-side cells.

When the three men went to our small room in my meditation group and their seats were taken, I naive awaited that the bonds on their ankles for our religious services would be removed. They weren't.

Here I met Jessie Hoffman – a man who, although I lived under the shadow of death, radiated a calm sympathy that even alleviated the toughest corners of the death cell.

It was clear to me that Jessie was a person who turned his life through hard work, meditation, deep self -reflection and humility. In our Buddhist group, which met in a small room in front of the death cell, Jessie was a source of stability and wisdom. During the services we practiced breathing meditation, read the holy Buddhist teachings and discussed how to live for the benefit of others.

Jessie's contributions to these discussions were always thoughtful and profound. He is friendly and patient with others. It has been meditated for over two decades; It was clear to me that through his practice of Buddhist meditation, Jessie is now a person who is defined by friendliness, humility and service to others.

This commitment to faith is not performative; It is a daily discipline that Jessie's life has redesigned. In my capacity as a chaplain I saw his deep wisdom and how he modeled this wisdom for the other men in prison.

Jessie grew out of his fights and trauma. He is real with other people and affects whoever he deals with. He has taken on the role of a mentor that leads younger men to peace in their own ways and helped them manage conflicts and choose a life outside of violence.

The prison employee describes him as a soothing presence – a man who helps to maintain peace in the walls of Angola and at the same time to arise respect for everyone he encounters. Jessie's example has the possibility of change in a place that is often defined by despair.

His renewal raises a fundamental question for the leaders of Louisiana: if the purpose of detention is not only punished, but also the possibility of redemption, what justice is used by deleting a life that has changed deeply?

Jessie's execution would now not fulfill no purpose. It would neither delete the pain of the past nor honor the principles of justice that recognize the potential for human transformation.

The terminals exist, especially in cases such as Jessie – not to forget his past actions, but to recognize that it is no longer defined by them. His life shows that even those who have committed serious injustice can find a way to faith and to serve others.

In order to end this life now, it would be to deny the essence of what should be true justice – mercy, redemption and conviction that no further damage should be caused.

Louisiana's leaders have the power to have mercy on death and confirm that our judicial system is capable of grace. Jessie Hoffman's story asks us to reach this standard – to show that we can choose light even in the darkest locations.