Life magazine once did an issue entitled "Who Is God?" which asked that question of people from all over the world. One interview was with David "B," identified as "the illegitimate son of a French tobacconist, [who] began to steal when he was 13 and [was then] in the fourth year of a 21-year sentence for murdering a man during an armed holdup." His statement captured the power of guilt and grace:

I didn't set out to kill him, but I did so—and in cold blood—when it seemed necessary. I didn't give it another thought at the time. I thought that I would shrug it off the way I had successfully ignored all my other crimes.

But I soon discovered that a man who commits murder sets himself apart from all other human beings for the rest of his life. One day I woke and felt that I had been permanently stained by my act. The feeling grew so strong that I was almost relieved to be caught. The feeling of horror, of disgust, of shame grew. I consulted a priest in prison. He gave me a Bible and, as I began to read, I was somewhat comforted, not initially by a sense of God's forgiveness but by the conviction that He was present. The sense of separation I felt suggested the existence of a Being who was offended, who cared.

What most impresses me now is the mercy of God, his refusal to be shocked by anything I could do. The God I know is a knowing but forgiving God. He can forgive all the more because he is nobody's fool. I still feel guilty, but I can feel calm and serene about my guilt. I can face it because I know that I am not alone in the universe.

I am convinced the Bible has a lot more than guilt to teach me. But it is hard. I feel newborn before this religion and defenseless before the intensity of my feelings. I have always been violent. I am hoping that God may help me to have a little self-control. God, let me learn to be reasonable.