Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 8466 Plough Quarterly • Autumn 2016 Riverbend Maximum Security Institution in Nashville, the sort of place we as a society have sought to put a festering wound “out of sight and out of mind.” The first part of the book maps out the complex topography of forgiveness. It comes off a little dry but provides a helpful framework for the rich stories that follow, which McRay lets the prisoners tell for themselves. Seven men and seven women, they take responsibility for their actions and express remorse, but as perpetrators cannot demand forgiveness of their victims. They are left struggling to forgive themselves. Some can’t, such as the mother whose child died of neglect while she had postpartum psychosis; she refuses to appeal her sentence because she feels she deserves to stay in prison. No story starts or ends the day of the crime. Almost inevitably, the victimizer was first a victim; the abuser was abused. Often their own inability to forgive horrific childhood or domestic abuse led them to perpetuate the cycle. These are hard stories to hear, because they reveal as much about us as about the people we lock away. Jacob Davis, thirty-six, has served seventeen years of a life sentence for shooting a high school classmate. He asks, “Are we still human? Is there any forgiveness, any redemption for those who have truly repented? If not, what does that say about us all?”   The Editors Read Michael McRay’s account of a day on a maximum security mental health pod at plough.com/mcray. I nsigh t G E O R G E M A C D O N A L D Man finds it hard to get what he wants, because he does not want the best; God finds it hard to give, because he would give the best, and man will not take it. From George MacDonald, “Life,” Unspoken Sermons, Series 2 (Longmans, Green, 1886). violence, profanity, misogyny, and bling are not the only values that can top charts and win Grammys. (Watch his “Welcome to America” for starts.) For more than a few chapters of his life – and of his recent memoir, Unashamed – Lecrae Devaughn Moore was a mess. Of course this makes his Christian testimony all the more com- pelling. Here’s someone who, through the saving grace of Jesus Christ, overcame fatherlessness and sexual abuse, the pull of gangs, addiction and rehab, promiscuity and an abortion, racism and self-hatred, an unsteady relationship with reli- gion, and some basic misconceptions about what it means to be a Christian. He became a Christian celebrity, making Christian music for Christian audiences, until he felt a call to break out of the Christian ghetto. “There is no such thing as Christian rap and secular rap,” LeCrae says now. “Only people can become Christians.” He’s had some degree of success in crossing the divide, though he senses that he’ll always be an outsider in both worlds. The title track of his 2014 hit album, Anomaly, ends, “And they say we don’t fit in / But I say, we are exactly who God created us to be: anomalies / The system didn’t plan for this.” Not a bad place for a Christian to be. Where the River Bends: Considering Forgiveness in the Lives of Prisoners Michael T. McRay (Cascade) Not every story of childhood trauma ends happily. The overall effect of these fourteen profiles of prison- ers is devastating. McRay studied peacemaking with visions of addressing the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, but felt as an American he had to do something to put his own house in order first. This led to a four-year stint as a volunteer chaplain at