YOU COULD HAVE BEEN THE LIGHT

Fr. Luke A. Veronis

“The criminal in your community may be less guilty for his crime than you, his Christian neighbor,” the Elder Zosima says to Alyosha in Dostoevsky’s book “The Brothers Karamazov. “For you could have been a light to the evil doer, yet you were not, for the man remained beside you in darkness. Had you been the kind of example you ought to have been and allowed your light to shine on that lost man’s path, perhaps he might not have stumbled into his crime. If you had loved your neighbor as yourself and lavished upon him some of the care you generously lavish upon yourself, shared some of the warmth God has privileged you to possess, that criminal might have changed in time.”

This piercing quote from Dostoevsky—a man who knew prison not as an outsider, but from the inside—forces us to pause and reflect on an uncomfortable perspective. How do we, as followers of Christ, see the criminal in our midst, the convict we lock away in prison, the outcast of society?

Do we create the image of a monster for the criminal and distance ourselves from them? Do we say, “Well, they made their choices—now they must pay”? Do we secretly delight in the sense of justice, no matter how harsh it may appear? Or do we hear the voice of Christ calling us to something deep in Dostoevsky’s challenge? “You could have been the light to that person... but you were not.”

In the Gospels, we hear how “Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and preaching the Good News of the kingdom, and healing every disease and every infirmity among the people."

Jesus saw beauty and goodness in those who were sick and in need, even in those who were lost, broken, and overlooked. He met the outcasts of society and didn’t highlight their brokenness and cast them aside. What did Christ do? He welcomed them. He healed them. He made them whole.

Now, let us ask—who are the sick and in need in our society today?

• The person addicted to drugs who turned to theft to feed his habit.
• The teenager who joined a gang because no one else welcomed him.
• The woman imprisoned because of years of trauma that no one ever noticed.

They are not only behind bars but are all around us. And they are waiting for the Church to bring Christ’s healing.

Jesus says bluntly, “I was in prison, and you came to Me.” He does not say, “I was wrongly imprisoned” or that we have to understand why someone is in prison. He simply says, “I was there.”

I remember when I visited a prison weekly for three years and met with the people there. I wasn’t meeting prisoners or evil men but I was meeting Christ. We met men, who despite their crimes, are not beyond redemption. In fact, many of them are more ready for the Gospel than those who think they need no healing.

Dostoevsky’s words are heavy because they challenge our inaction. “You could have been the light... but you were not.”

Let’s be honest. It’s easier to ignore the criminal than to love him. It’s easier to lock them up than try to help them find rehabilitation. It’s easier to focus on justice instead of mercy. It’s easier to see someone’s sin rather than their suffering.

Yet, Jesus asks us, “What role have we played in someone else’s crimes?

• Did we neglect the struggling youth in our neighborhood?
• Did we look away from someone crying out in pain?
• Did we fail to speak the truth with love when it could have made a difference?

If we had become the light of Christ to that person, perhaps the path would have changed. Jesus was never afraid to walk among the broken and despised. Why should we be?

Prison ministry is not about excusing sin, but about healing sinners. It is not about erasing consequences—it is about reminding people that God never erases His love. And part of prison ministry can be done through visits, letters, Bible studies, books, and prayer. We want to remind inmates: You are not alone. You are not forgotten. God still calls you by name.

And we, the Church, are called to participate in this sacred mission. You may say, “I don’t feel comfortable going into a prison,” but what can you do? Well, you can:

• Pray daily for those in prison, for the prisoners as well as the guards and administrators, and those ministering to them.
• Support people who go into prisons like the Orthodox Christian Prison Ministry
• Write letters to incarcerated people
• Teach our children to value mercy and compassion above justice and retribution.
• Look around and reach out to those around you who are silently crying out for help.

Let always remember: we are not here to judge; we are here to reveal Christ and to be His light. Dostoevsky’s haunting words are not meant to condemn us—but to wake us up. “You could have been the light to that person... but you were not.”

We can’t change the past. But starting today, we can choose to be light.We can be the hand that reaches out. We can be the presence that brings peace. We can be the heart that shows mercy. Because when we do that for “the least of these,” we do it for Christ Himself. Let us be that light, so no one has to remain in darkness again.