The Panopticon: A brutal conceptualization of a prison system, designed to inflict psychological despair and hopelessness upon its inmates. The circular structure with central observatory tower ensures that prisoners never know whether or not they are being watched. At any time of the day, each inmate is conscious of the possible peering gaze from either prison guards or their fellow inmates. While allowed no privacy from the rest of the prison, each prisoner is yet walled off from their adjacent cell, such that intimacy with another is impossible.
For when you were slaves of sin — Romans 6:20
Dear prisoner,
I was once in your shoes, a fellow inmate and slave of panopticon
Familiar with that way of life, I too spent my days within illusory cells
I sat behind those same bars, made of assumption and conformity
Matching shackles hung from my wrists; formed in cold selfish steel
In every matching step, a heavy ball of want tugged at my heels
Like all of us were, I too was born a prisoner, never dreaming of escape
My sentence, like yours and the rest, was death
Inevitability hung to my conscience, looming before my numbered days
Like you no doubt, I feared the warden too
So on borrowed time, I served him by heart-bound chains
He was never kind to us, our self-exalting man
He worked us to the bone, giving no offer of rest
Yet he was always with us, tracking us by our flesh
Through deceptions and lies, he bribed us with “hope”
So we toiled for him, building towers of dust—yet he was never satisfied
Like you must have been, I too was whipped—flayed by the chords of emptiness and want
I know what it’s like to eat fear and drink anxiety, day after day
I still remember the sad hangovers of evanescent joys
And our consciences numbed by the opioids of pleasure
All I could ask was, “Is this all life really is?”, “Why me?”, “Why couldn’t things be different?”
That was life here, wasn’t it? In the prison of panopticon
Everywhere you looked, your fellow prisoners seemed the same
Running. Rotting. Racing. Raging. Reaching. Rebelling. Rationalizing. Regretting.
They each gave up freedom in the end for a reason, didn’t they?
No, my friend, don’t think that way. They didn’t give up – they were never looking in the first place
You. You need to listen to me. Don’t toil here, waiting for the rot to come
Don’t be fooled, holding on to your shackles and chains
Stop hiding behind your bars, camouflaged amongst other slaves
I too was once like you. Trapped. Decaying. Stubborn
But now? Now, I am free
Some may scoff, some may laugh. Others have even played along
But hear me out. Don’t you see? I once was bound, but now I’m free
Everything changed and I began to see
My burdens fled, and my heart sang with glee
How you ask? It all started when He called for me
He visited me in my cell, and as He came the bars gave way
They parted like the seas, and I was offered a choice
Will you come, or will you stay?
I looked up from my downward gaze and saw a light
A blinding flash that paradoxically renewed my sight
I couldn’t understand it at first
Did He want something from me?
Was I different or better than the rest?
What did He have to gain? What did I have to lose?
I was scared to say yes — it seemed too good to be true. Yet I couldn’t refuse
In the end, He saw my hesitation, but still took my hand
He led me past the bars, away from my toil, beyond those dark dungeon floors
He told me about the green grass and the ocean breeze
He broke my chains, and fed me a warm home-cooked meal
And I believed in Him
My friend. I am soon to depart from this wretched place
But before I do, I must ask and plead with you
He’s just beyond the gate, waiting for us
So won’t you leave this place behind and come with me?
We can go together, and you’ll be able to meet Him too
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound –Isaiah 61:1
