[Image: Virginia City Justice Statue:  Glen Franco Simmons]

On the second floor above the main doors of the Courthouse in Virginia City, Nevada, stands a rather unusual statue.  While not utterly unique, according to some sources, the figure is one of only about 20 such examples in the United States.

It is an image of what we could call “Lady Justice”— based, of course, upon the Greco-Roman goddess of the same name.  Curiously, Justice is staring straight ahead. She is not showing you her profile. She is holding her balanced scale directly in front of passersby, and, surprisingly, she is not blindfolded.

The story goes that Nevada represented such a wild and lawless region at the time of this courthouse’s completion, that “Lady Justice” couldn’t afford to be blindfolded.

If justice being blindfolded amounts to a promotion of legal gullibility, who could argue with this wide-eyed statue? And yet, in these days of increasing political advocacy— at times even detrimental to truth and fairness— one can “see” why blind symbols (and more objective processes) make consistent sense.

In the month of January 2024, two similar but distinct legal cases made headlines— one in Colorado and one in Ohio. Both cases involved criminal attacks upon churches and both resulted in convictions. For the record, both cases involved adult male perpetrators. Both crimes occurred in early 2023. Both perpetrators pled guilty. Strangely, both attacks involved the hurling of precisely two Molotov cocktails at each church structure. Thankfully, in both cases, the fires caused only minor damage.

In the Colorado case, the perpetrator admitted that he attacked the Lutheran church in Loveland because it was a religious institution. Given this motivation, his deed was legally defined as a hate crime.  In the Ohio case, the perpetrator was also accused of a hate crime, as he attacked a community church in Chesterland because it planned to host drag-queen events in 2023. 

Both perpetrators were charged with arson.
Both perpetrators were charged with possession of incendiary devices or explosive materials.
Both perpetrators were charged with hate crimes via differing legislation.

In terms of contrast, there are perhaps two differences in these incidents. First, the Ohio case appears to have involved the U.S. Department of Justice, and the DOJ has recently shown a willingness to investigate left-leaning causes more robustly than conservative ones— if the prosecution of pro-life protesters is any example.

Leaving all cynicism aside, though, it appears that Ohio’s prosecutors utilized a Church Arson Prevention Act that the State of Colorado did not possess.

Hence, despite all similarities in these two cases, these differences were enough that the perpetrator in Colorado received a 39 month sentence for his arson attack upon a church, while the church arsonist in Ohio received a whopping 216 month sentence. 

The point of this editorial is not to quibble about whether the Democrat-dominated state of Colorado is being too lenient, or the Republic-dominated State of Ohio is being too harsh. Additionally, the point of this editorial is not to urge every jurisdiction— even in Canada— to adopt the equivalent of a Church Arson Prevention Act,  even though church arsons are a growing problem across  North America.

Rather, the point here is that a 554% disparity between sentences in two remarkably similar cases in the same country at the same time, points directly to the problems associated with what one might call, “advocacy-based legislation”.

I’m not suggesting that the atheist arsonist in Colorado got less of a sentence because of his atheism, or that he got fewer months for attacking a relatively conservative church. Neither am I suggesting that the supremacist arsonist in Ohio got far more because of his supremacism, or for attacking a sexually progressive church. There is little real evidence for such miscarriages of justice.

I am, however, noting that the convicted Ohio man received a significantly higher sentence because of the existence of a legal Act especially geared to the protection of religious spaces. And this is a form of systemic advocacy that, however noble or well meaning, is managing to enable wildly different standards in judicial sentencing.

I pastor a Canadian church, and I value church structures both old and new. Needless to say, I find the number of contemporary church arsons (of all causes and motivations) in both Canada and the United States absolutely appalling. Yet, even so, firebombing a church shouldn’t be 554% more of a crime in one American jurisdiction than in another, or legally perceived to be 554% more heinous than firebombing a business, hospital, or government office.

Church arson doesn’t need a punitive subsidy from legislators. It just needs to be prosecuted. This is especially true in Canada. 

Principles matter more than specialized legislation. Even well-meaning legislative advocacy can reduce the blindfold of Justice to a moth-eaten rag— serving neither the avowed secularist nor the cause of Jesus Christ. Unchecked and unchallenged, such advocacy loses all sense of balance in the scales, enabling the political whim of whomever is in authority.    

Granted, “Make Justice blind again!“ is not your usual political slogan, but in Nevada and a whole lot of other Western jurisdictions, it might not be a bad idea.