Letter from Pinellas County Jail...

And (Jesus) was saying to them all, "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake, he is the one who will save it. For what is a man profited if he gains the whole world, and loses or forfeits himself? For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when He comes in His glory, and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels." (Luke 9:23-26)

Inconvenient, damned inconvenient...

Five weeks before Terri Schiavo's feeding tube was removed for the last time, I was thinking about the inconvenience of being a disciple of Jesus Christ. God seemed to be directing my thoughts to see my love of that which makes me comfortable. I was beginning to see that my schedule and my distractions were interfering with my 'spiritual service of worship' (Rom 12). I began to look for opportunities to become inconvenienced.

Tim Bayly, a pastor with whom I work, started talking about going to Florida to oppose the killing of Terri. The leadership of the church was supportive, myself included. I thought briefly about going along but quickly dismissed the idea, thinking that having more than one staff gone at one time would cause hardship for the church, that my duties would not get done, that it would cost too much, and that I wasn't sure protesting there would be my "thing." I kept all thoughts of civil disobedience way in the back of my mind...

Approximately two weeks before the feeding tube removal, Tim discovered he had a scheduling conflict and would not be able to be in Florida on the day the starvation began. He approached me and asked that I consider being his proxy there until he could arrive the following week. This was not the invitation I had been looking for. At first I tried not to think about making a decision, but as the time for departure grew more imminent I knew the decision had to be made. I was brought back to my meditation on inconvenience. Leaving my family and my comfort zone and going to Pinellas Park, Florida, to protest the killing of an innocent woman whom I had never met would be inconvenient. A few hours before I had to leave, I made my decision. (This decision for inconvenience was difficult but not the most difficult I would face in the coming days.)

David Bayly, Tim's brother, drove with me to Florida. On the drive down we talked, questioning out loud what roles we would play when we arrived. We decided to wait and see what God would put before us. We arrived on Friday, just a short time before the tube was removed. We saw the spectacle. A brick building, a police line, fenced containment areas for protestors and, across the street, media town.

Within minutes of our arrival we witnessed our first press conference. Little did we know what this press conference would portend. The emotional roller coaster had begun, and it would continue even past our departure and up to Terri's death. Hope followed by disappointment, appeal followed by denial, subpoena followed by disregard, congressional directive followed by judicial disdain. In this environment our role was quickly defined. As we told people we were pastors we were welcomed and invited to do what pastors are supposed to do: care for the sheep. The lack of pastoral presence was obvious from the first. As one man we met early put it, "Where are the pastors? Where the hell are the pastors?" Even the Roman Catholic faithful welcomed us as they lamented the absence of their priests. They were as sheep without a shepherd.

The days were long and the ministry opportunities were constant. It was as if everyone there--police, protestors, and press--had their chest cavities opened for work on the heart. We were all laid bare by the reality that a woman who had committed no crime was being dehydrated and starved to death in the building next to us and that the "justice" system of our country had ordered it. We watched as her family worked through the system to stop Terri's killing. They were tortured as only a mother, father, and siblings could be as they helplessly witnessed this cruel injustice. The similarities to the passion of Christ were disturbing and, as it was transpiring during the week when Christianity remembers Christ's passion, the similarities were spoken of regularly in the protest lines.

We continued to work. Amazing conversations occurred every day. We were privileged to meet many who were certainly the objects of our Lord's blessing in the beatitudes. We taught, evangelized, prayed for, encouraged, and rebuked from day to day, wearing our SPF 35 sunscreen. We purchased and set up a couple of portable chairs so that we could sit and rest when our feet or backs were tired. While the circumstances that brought us there were deplorable, I began to enjoy the ministry we were doing. It was inconvenient but fruitful. Those souls present were precious and our hearts bonded immediately.

There were arrests on our first day. Terri's parents asked the crowd not to be arrested at that time, as they were working to exhaust the legal possibilities. David and I talked about being arrested. It was uncomfortable for me to contemplate. At the time I was thinking of arrest philosophically. Did I believe civil disobedience was right for the Christian? Under what circumstances would I get arrested for my faith?

As the week wore on, it seemed arrest would not be in my immediate future. The roller coaster had us on a high that made us think we would be going home earlier than expected. Congress had acted, and we were going to the courthouse in Tampa to see what Judge James Whittemore would do. We were hopeful that he would restore water and food to Terri. We were hopeful of getting back to our families. (We had packed the car in anticipation of leaving.)

Down went the roller coaster. That day, in the courtroom and on the federal courthouse steps in Tampa, we saw evil men say evil things. The appeal was denied. We decided further inconvenience was necessary.

The week continued: four days of starvation. Five. Six (we held a Maundy Thursday service). Seven days (a Good Friday service). Eight days.

The eighth day of starvation was Saturday. I had lost hope in any government intervention. Tim had joined us on Wednesday, and now we had to decide who would go home to tend the Bloomington flock for Easter. It seemed obvious that Tim should go. It was decided that I should stay. I drove Tim to the airport and on the way we talked about arrest. Those were uncomfortable miles but not as uncomfortable as the drive back alone. I started to believe that I should be civilly disobedient and that I should do it that evening. All acts of disobedience to that point had been symbolic. No crowd could have forcibly gotten past the police to remove her from the hospice and even if someone could reach her with a cup of water or a piece of bread she could not have taken it orally in her condition. I went to the hotel and spent an hour meditating, writing a statement that would accompany my arrest and praying. My disobedience would also be symbolic but rather than take food and water I wanted myself, my wife, my children, my family, and my church to know that I would be inconvenienced for them because of my love for Christ and my love for them.

I finished writing and got into the car to drive back to the protest site. My head started spinning. I arrived, greeted David Bayly, and told him of my intentions. For the next hour I was on overload. David introduced me to a reporter and I gave her my statement. I proceeded to the gate and invited anyone who was interested to hear my statement before I entered. My friends were there and a couple of members of the press. I remember one cameraman vividly because he would not point his camera at me and it was obvious that he despised me. I am thankful for this man most of all because he humiliated me to such a point that, as I began the process of my arrest, I was completely undone.

I turned and walked toward the police. I crossed the line. The officers stopped me and I leaned into them to force some physical participation on their part. They were complicit in this crime against Terri just as we all were, even if only in our sins of omission. I was warned that if I did not stop leaning into them I would be tazed. I had no intention of physical resistance beyond the symbolic. They did not know that. The sergeant who was present looked at me imploringly, pleading that I not become violent. (We had several conversations with the police on the line during our time there. Some of them were Christians; many were conflicted in the exercise of this duty.)

I stepped back. The arresting officer told me that if I did not remove myself from the property I would be arrested. He said this again and someone asked if the hospice administrator had arrived yet. As part of the procedure, the hospice administrator must verbally tell the police that she does not want each particular person who presents himself to be allowed on hospice property. She rejected me. No surprise. My thoughts are whirling.

The arresting officer asks me the final question. "Sir, if you will not remove yourself from this property you will be arrested. Will you remove yourself?"

Whirling mind. "No I will not."

The walk to the sheriff's van was a blur. My pockets were emptied, I was lightly patted down, cuffed with a nylon-corded cuff and very carefully and gently placed in the van. Now there was time to think. A talk radio station was on. The DJ was championing Terri's death. An officer opened the front door and asked if I would like the radio turned off. "Yes, please."

I was alone and I began to be accused by my thoughts. "You have shamed your wife, your children, your family, your church and your savior. Good men aren't placed in police vans. Good men don't disobey the law. You must have done something wrong!"

My thoughts would then defend me, "This is an injustice. Men must stand against it. If Terri had been my daughter I would have been tazed or worse. I have to go on record." My thoughts in the police van were an inconvenience I had not expected. Having been taught to obey the law and having learned submission to authority from my parents and ultimately from God, I did not realize the mental gyrations that would attend me after I purposefully disobeyed, incurring these ramifications.

I noticed that the right handcuff was loose enough that, my wrists being sweaty, I could slip my hand out. My face itched. I wondered if I should take my hand out and scratch. That seemed to me to be a defiance of authority! I compromised by taking it out, scratching my face, and placing it back into the cuff again. You must see how this illustrates my dilemma. How could I be righteous and unrighteous at the same time?

Normally that question would be easy to answer, but the answer would have to do with my sin and Christ's righteousness. Here the answer had to be found in my identity with Christ in opposition to sin, rejection by men, suffering isolation and incarceration for the sake of righteousness. Here I was being righteous and in my righteous action I was being vilified by an unrighteous procedure. It was an unfamiliar sensation.

I felt like the hobbit Baggins embarking on his first adventure. Hobbits aren't supposed to have adventures.
Christians aren't supposed to be arrested. Not American ones at least.

The deputy got into the van to take me to the county jail. I am thankful that I was alone in the back of the van that evening. We drove away, and the closest I got to Terri Schiavo that week was when the van pulled up beside the hospice to turn around.

The officer driving turned on the radio and without my asking tuned in to a Christian station where a pastor was preaching on the passion of Christ. My fears and self-accusations began to subside. As I was driven through the razor wire-topped fencing at the Pinellas County jail, I was listening to the account of Christ's scourging and the trip down the Via Dolorosa. I had a microscopic taste of something I had not been able to empathize with before. Jesus' being alone. I felt alone but I knew that I was not. Jesus was alone and was soon to be forsaken even by His Father.

Well, I was feeling inconvenienced. They took me into the receiving area. My belongings were itemized and receipted. I was searched again more thoroughly. Finally I was placed in a holding cell. My only cellmate at first was Max. Max was a black man who was arrested for carrying an unlicensed, concealed weapon. We introduced ourselves and he told me his story.

When he had finished his tale he looked at me and said, "This is inconvenient, damned inconvenient."

I smiled outside but laughed inside as those providentially directed words dispelled my last fears and set me at peace.

I was released just hours later but I did not realize how the gyrations I had experienced were going to be experienced by others as soon as they learned of my arrest. How could my Christian friend, pastor, husband, father, son, and brother get arrested? Bad men get arrested but I have not known him as a bad man.

I arrived home Tuesday morning at 5:15. I kissed my children as they slept and went to bed. Later that day I saw my children and, while the older two greeted me with the normal enthusiasm, the five-year-old was standoffish. At first I thought it was her anger over my being absent for 11 days, but my wife said something that made us both see what was really happening. Gyrations. We discovered that this child thought I had been arrested for cutting in line at an amusement park. (Stepping over the property line.)

More than that, she was conflicted. Bad people get arrested but this man is my daddy. I have not known him to be bad. These are the same thoughts concerning authority I had experienced in the police van. After I had explained the situation to her (that men were starving and dehydrating a woman to death and that I had been arrested in defiance of that wrong) and showed her some film footage of Terri on the Internet, she was as right as rain. She understood the unrighteousness of Terri's murder. (Interesting how a five-year-old can clearly see what the entire American court system pretends they cannot.)

I have heard feedback from many sources about my arrest. Many people are conflicted. Dave Curell arrested? What possessed him?

The answer is not what, but Who.

(T)hose who are in the flesh cannot please God. However, you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you But if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Him. If Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, yet the spirit is alive because of righteousness. (Romans 8:8-10)

If you are conflicted about my arrest I hope for your sake it is the beginning of many inconveniences for His sake. Just now, as I was writing this account, I was interrupted and told Terri had died. May God have mercy on us.

The following is the statement made by Pastor Curell when he was arrested:

Been here for 8 days

Much talk about:

---Courts, quality of life, law, state officials, federal officials

One thing overshadows all

---As a nation we are watching the court sanctioned killing of an innocent woman

---I thought the killing of the innocent was wrong

I am ashamed of our leaders

---Everyone has worked hard to cover themselves.

---The judges say they are following the law.

---The legislators say that they are thwarted by the judges.

---The executive leaders rattle their sabers and wring their hands.

Trust me

---All of you politicians, judges, leaders who are men, if Terri were your daughter you would have done considerably more.

I am ashamed of America.

---I often hear of how great our nation is, but I don't think most Americans even care to find out if this event is significant. We just wish something else were on TV.

---Makes me wonder who really is in the persistent vegetative state.

I am most ashamed of those who claim to be the Church of Jesus Christ. We who have as our heritage both the theology for life and the history of those faithful who have been very inconvenienced for the sake of the marginal in our world.

---Where are you, pastors, priests, elders, deacons, fathers of families? Do you congregations and churches know the plight of this woman or what is at stake in this battle.

I am a father, not acting with Mr. Schindler's permission, but offering myself as his proxy. I will be arrested for his sake as a father.