Double Jeopardy

My love for crime shows dates back many years ... many, many years ... to the days of watching Starsky and Hutch or Charlie's Angels on television. For a while I thought I would become a detective until I realized that I would actually have to have contact with the bad guys. That's when I decided that an English major was more my speed than a degree in criminal justice. Through all my years of crime show watching, one legal concept has always sparked my curiosity ... a protective provision called double jeopardy.

Being tried twice for the same offense is prohibited by the 5th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. The Double Jeopardy Clause protects against three distinct abuses: (1) a second prosecution for the same offense after acquittal; (2) a second prosecution for the same offense after conviction; and (3) multiple punishments for the same offense. I find it more than a bit interesting that the founding fathers of our nation found it necessary to include a requirement in our Constitution that says a person can only be tried for an offense one time, whether they are guilty or innocent, and that their punishment must be handed down once and for all at the time of their conviction.

I've had the whole double jeopardy thing on my mind for a while, perhaps because I have a friend who just can't seem to overcome her past no matter what she does. She's not a criminal, not a fugitive, not a threat to society. She is, however, being tried over and over in the court of public opinion for a choice that she made in her life many years ago ... a choice that, curiously, some folks condemn and others applaud. My friend has a generous and loving heart ... a really generous and loving heart, in fact ... and yet her acceptance by others is often tempered by decisions she made and things that occurred in her past.

I received a letter from my friend a few days ago (yes, an actual hand-written letter in the mail) telling me that she was moving from her hometown because she just couldn't take the judgment and condemnation from so many who live there any longer. I wept as I read her words ... "I stayed here to take care of my parents, but now that they are gone, I've made the decision to leave. I'm 53 years old, and I can't stand to live this way for the rest of my life. I'm going to move far away and change my name and pray that no one ever finds me. I'm certain that no one will miss me. The only way they will notice I'm gone is that they won't be able to stare at me when I walk down the street or try to attend church or shop at the grocery store. They will still talk about me, I'm sure, but at least I won't have to hear it. All I ever wanted was to be loved and accepted, but I guess that was too much to ask for. Maybe things will be different in a new place."

Even as I type the words from my friend's letter, I am struck again with the fact that men who built the foundation of our country centuries ago felt the need to write into the most basic and important document on which our government was established the provision of the Double Jeopardy Clause ... protection for those accused of committing a crime ... accused being the key word in that phrase. I think a lot of us should take a cue from our country's founding fathers when it comes to words or actions from the past, our own or the pasts of others.

And I'm grateful ... beyond grateful, in fact ... that God has a far-reaching Double Jeopardy Clause in place when it comes to my relationship with Him. Once I'm acquitted through the blood of Jesus Christ, I'm acquitted forever. His forgiveness covers all of my sins, and He doesn't put me on trial for them over and over again. My sentencing was declared on the day Christ died for me ... life everlasting.