Steven Nelson

Texas

Execution Date: 02.05.25

Hope For Steven Nelson

Writings from a Campaign
Jeff Hood

Full text below or available for purchase HERE.

For Noa Dubois, the heart of it all.

The death penalty both obscures and defines. I don’t know for certain what Steven Nelson did or didn’t do. I do know that he was my dear friend. For Steven’s gift of friendship, I am deeply grateful. These writings were, are and continue to be my attempt to engage the Steven that I came to know.

The Rev. Dr. Jeff Hood

March 15, 2025

October 9, 2024

Beyond the Headlines: The Search for the Real Steven Nelson

Softly, I met Steven Nelson. There were no lights. There were no reporters. There were no cameras. There was only us. Immediately, it was clear that he was much quieter than the headlines I’d read about him. Of course, I’d encountered misleading headlines before. It’s just that the discrepancy was so stark in this instance. Headlines don’t often lead to deeper truths. Most of the time, when you trust them, they lead you far from both the human and divine. If one wants to know the truth, they must always go deeper. Immediately, it was clear that Steven had been hardened by a lifetime of broken promises and dreams. That’s where I found him, but that’s not where we stayed.

Before we ever talked about the headlines, Steven told me about a car accident.

“The night was dark. I was sitting in the backseat. Of course, I didn’t have a seatbelt on. I was just a kid. I didn’t know the importance of such things yet. I saw the headlights out of the corner of my eye. Before I knew it, the car slammed into the backseat. I doubt they ever slowed down. The grill of the car came within inches of my face. I literally could’ve kissed it. There was no reason I should’ve walked away from that accident. When that happened, I knew there was a God.”

Then, came knowledge of the headlines.

In a highly publicized trial, Steven was convicted of the brutal robbery-murder of Rev. Clint Dobson and the assault of church secretary Judy Elliott at NorthPointe Baptist Church in Arlington, Texas. In addition, Steven committed a variety of infractions while imprisoned at the Tarrant County Jail, and was also a suspect in the murder of a fellow inmate.

The difference between the two Stevens bounced around in my head like marbles in a glass jar. The stories didn’t make sense. How could a child that God saved turn into a murderous monster? Truth is always more complicated than our dichotomies.

I’m thankful Steven has chosen me to be his spiritual advisor. I’ve done this work for a long time. Upon first meeting, I don’t go directly to the crime. Who would want to begin a relationship talking about the worst thing that they’d ever done in their lives? Truth be known, I care more about the person than I do the crime. That’s my job. But the crime does always come up.

Of course, the crime that Steven described is very different than the one the headlines describe. Instead of being the lone perpetrator, Steven describes himself as the lookout. He recalled only seeing the bodies of Rev. Clint Dobson and Judy Elliott one time, when he went in to steal a laptop out of the church. Indeed, Steven said that he didn’t even know that Dobson had died until he saw it on the news. Such a story is a far cry from the ruthless barbarism that prosecutors pegged him with. With regard to the numerous incidences in the Tarrant County Jail, Steven described himself as someone desperately trying to resist the oppression and injustice that surrounded him. Lastly, Steven said that the guy who died in the Jail committed suicide and that he had absolutely nothing to do with it.

So, what’s the truth? Are we to believe that Steven is someone that God saved in a car accident so that he might live long enough to later live to kill Rev. Dobson? That doesn’t sound right to me. Maybe a better way of saying it is…that’s not the type of God that I believe in. The type of God that I believe in is known for grace and mercy…not murder. While I doubt any of us will ever know the complexity of what happened, I do know that truth is always found beyond sensational headlines and that killing Steven won’t make any of us any better…only love can do that.

Truth be known, I’ve found Steven to be a beautiful person. I’m sure that people are always going to be different depending on when you meet them. But people are always capable of love. I’ve found that capability in Steven. In fact, I’ve found him to be amongst the more capable people that I’ve ever met. Despite his circumstances, he chooses to believe that deeply intimate human interactions are worth the risk. Why destroy such capability?

Steven is scheduled to be executed on February 5. With such a date looming, God is calling us to listen. Rev. Clint Dobson still speaks. Can you hear him? The words of Jesus reverberate from his life. Particularly, these paraphrased words of Jesus in the Gospel of John (8:7), “Let the one who is without sin execute Steven Nelson.”

November 2, 2024

We know. We are. : Meditation Practices from Death Row

*Steven Nelson is a prisoner on death row in Texas. The Rev. Dr. Jeff Hood serves as his spiritual advisor. This piece flows out of a conversation that Dr. Hood had with Nelson on meditation.

We close our eyes. We breath. We meditate. Then… We discover there is more than what is. We keep going. We feel the presence of the all in one. We know. We are.

Our prisons don’t have to define us. Our beings are more powerful than our bars. We can exist in spaces beyond what is. We can exist in a space of what might be. Meditation transforms the meditator not because it is salvific…but rather because it is a vehicle to places that are. The savagery of our moment is that we remain convinced that meditation is only for the lost. Yet, only in meditation can one truly be found. The development of a meditative practice is the key to unlock all our prisons.

When all hell is coming down on your head, one can sit and be burned up or one can figure out how to exist beyond the fire. Anxiety cripples the soul. Stress suffocates the brain. Depression chains the body. Only when we allow our mind to go to places beyond such hells can we be who we are and become more than we ever thought that we could be. If one has control over their mind, one can be locked up all day every day and never even know the bars exist.

Inner peace is a strange phrase to most. We live in a world where there is no peace. Everyone is just so busy all the time. Conflicts provide entertainment. We destroy all that we know. How can anyone have any peace? The mind has to be unchained from temporal restraints.

No two meditation practices are the same. One can read books to figure out a direction, but we all must create our own paths. Once the eyes are closed, that which is beyond description takes over. To start one must simply close their eyes.

Why do we fear the darkness? Life was birthed from the darkness. We come from the darkness. We are darkness in our most simple form. To meditate we must go into the darkness…we must become part of the darkness.

The divine has created us to be one with the divine. Inner peace exists at the core. Inner peace rests in the darkness. Everything else fades away when we meet that which is everything. When we meditate, we are collapsing into fullness.

Meditation is also a form of prayer. We are pushing to find the divine that can awaken the divine within. We present our core so that we might know the creator of the core.

There is a peace that passes all understanding. The journey of meditation is the path there. It’s like disappearing so that one might appear more fully than one ever thought possible.

We close our eyes. We breath. We meditate. Then… We discover there is more than what is. We keep going. We feel the presence of the all in one. We know. We are.

November 9, 2024

Inhale. Exhale.: Breathing Exercises from Death Row

*Steven Nelson is a prisoner on death row in Texas. The Rev. Dr. Jeff Hood serves as his spiritual advisor. This piece flows out of a conversation that Dr. Hood had with Nelson on breathing.

Close your eyes. Breathe. Invite God in. Exhale. Breathe. Imagine love. Exhale love. Breathe. Really meditate on what love looks like. Exhale. Breathe. Really meditate on giving love away. Exhale. Breathe. Imagine love. Exhale love. Breathe. In your breathing, invite God to exist with you. Exhale. Open your eyes.

How should we breathe? It’s a basic question with profound implications. The way that we breathe determines our existence. If we stop breathing, we can’t survive. Each breath that we take means something.

Love. The greatest of all constructs. How does one breathe it in? How does one breathe it out? Love is not a substance you can physically breathe. It is more of a construct to describe a state of being. Then again, when we breathe, we are taking our place in the universe. We are inhaling and exhaling life. What do we want our life to be about? How can we make each breath that we take in to be about love…each breath that we breath out to be about love?

God breathed life into existence. How do we breathe life into others? Lives that matter are the ones that exist to give life to others. Love is about sharing life. We cultivate love of self so that we might give such love away. Each breathe strengthens one to exhale…to exhale life. One cannot love somebody else until they figure out how to love their self.

The problems with our society originate from the fundamental inability of humanity to breathe right. Everybody walks around hating their self and can’t figure out why they can’t love someone else or why can’t nobody else love them. Fix yourself first. Get your breathing right. God breathed live. We can too.

We are surrounded by people desperate to find their next breath. We can be the source. We can breathe on others. We can breathe for others. God loves us. Such love teaches us how to share love….how to share breath.

Too often we think that the point of life is to get as far as you can as fast as you can. God is telling us to look back. We were made in the image of God. We are to do as God has done…exhale.

Inner peace comes from the daily practice of breathing right. We close our eyes to push out distractions. We invite God in to remind us that God is the one who gave us breath. We breathe to remind us of our need to breathe…and our desire to be conscience of each breath. We imagine what we want our breaths to be for. We imagine giving our self to others. We draw back to imagining the very definition of what love is. We breath life. We exhale life. In our inhaling and exhaling, we ask God to make all that we do to be about love. Conscious of how our breathing can change the world, we open our eyes to proceed out into the world.

November 11, 2024

A Protest, A Letter & A Press Conference : Confrontation at First Baptist Arlington

On October 31, 2024, I sent the letter attached below to every email address listed on the First Baptist Church of Arlington's website. This was the first opportunity I gave the church to respond to deep concerns that a great many have about the way that they handled the aftermath of the murder of Rev. Clint Dobson, the subsequent trial of Steven Nelson and the resultant death sentence.

Indeed, after the death sentence was handed down, First Baptist pastor Dr. Dennis R. Wiles glowingly remarked, “We have all waited for this day…this guilty offender is being appropriately punished.” In the years since the tragic murder of Rev. Dobson, First Baptist has betrayed their own stated belief that they are concerned for the souls of the world and done absolutely nothing to reach out to Nelson or anyone associated with him.

Due to a lack of response to the letter, our response has grown. On Friday 15 at 10am CT, I’ve organized a press conference with other supporters across the street from First Baptist (at the corner of West South St and S Pecan St) to speak directly to the evil of a pastor and church supporting an execution and to demand their repentance.

Each subsequent failure to respond with the grace and hope of Jesus Christ will lead to an added level of response. Make no mistake, Steven Nelson’s life is on the line and we will demand that all who claim Christ to act as such.

October 31, 2024

To the leadership and people of First Baptist Church of Arlington,

Greetings. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all. As a body of believers, I am aware of the tragedy that you (along with the people of the church you were helping plant) faced in 2011. By all accounts, Rev. Clint Dobson was an amazing pastor and an even more amazing person. Even in our present moment, the survival instinct of Judy Elliot remains beyond inspiring. The horror and pain that Steven Nelson unleashed is beyond what the mortal heart can ponder. I can’t imagine how confusing of a time his subsequent arrest, trial and sentencing was. On some level, I can even understand why you as a church pushed for a death sentence (or at least did nothing to stop one). These words are not meant to minimize the courage of either victim or the resilience of your church in the face of this tragedy. They are intended as an invitation to Christian love and grace. While the mortal heart might be incapable of forgiveness, with God all things are possible.

Perhaps, it is important to explain my personal juxtaposition to the tragedy. I serve as Nelson’s spiritual advisor. This term is a legal term that the State of Texas uses to designate someone as a person facing execution’s pastor. In recent months, I’ve had the opportunity to come to know Nelson and find him to be a person deeply familiar with the love and grace of God. While such talk often seems cliché, Nelson has grown tremendously since these crimes took place. But this is not necessarily a letter about Nelson. More so, this is a letter about you.

When I heard of your satisfaction that Nelson received the death penalty, I was deeply disturbed. In John 13:35, Jesus makes clear, “They will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” Of course, Jesus also commands us in Mark 12:31, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” There is nothing loving about killing someone. Presently, there is a growing movement of believers dedicated to saving the life of Nelson. In the face of a looming execution date of February 5, it seems the only loving thing to do would be to join us.

Of course, I’m not unaware that a great many Christians support the death penalty. Forgive me for the continued use of scripture, but I have been told that you are a church deeply invested in the Word of God. How can someone believe in executions in the light of John 8:1-11?

But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.

At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

“No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

Jesus stopped the only execution he ever attended besides his own. Based on this passage, Jesus’ instruction to the believer with regard to the execution of Nelson is clear, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” We are called to be a people that is daily growing more like Christ. 1 John 2:6 tell us that we are even responsible for “…living just as Jesus did.” The bottom line is this…Jesus Didn’t Kill. How can you or anyone else call yourselves Christians if you don’t fight to stop Nelson’s execution? Can you imagine Rev. Clint Dobson immersed in love and standing in glory demanding the execution of Steven Nelson? You know that grace doesn’t work like that.

On top of arguments based on our shared faith, Nelson's legal team has presented solid forensic evidence that Nelson wasn’t the only person that participated in this crime. Yet, Nelson was the only person ever convicted…the only person ever sentenced to death. Even from an unabashedly secular perspective, how is this fair?

If you’re like me, the legal arguments matter less than the spiritual ones. In John 10:10, Jesus makes it very clear that we must follow his example and always stand on the side of life, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.” In the coming days, I am going to be directly challenging you. Regardless of who you think the thief is, Jesus tells us that we must be about life…abundant grace filled life. Bottom line…Jesus Didn’t Kill.

Let there be no doubt, there is a great test upon you. Will you repent of your past support of the death penalty? There is still time. Surely, the witness of Rev. Dobson demands more than the missteps of the past and the indifference of the present. There is still time to save Steven Nelson. Do not let the extravagant grace of God pass you by.

If you are interested in joining our campaign to save Nelson, I am more than happy to discuss next steps.

“Now to HIM who has the power to do immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine according to the power at work in us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever amen.” (Ephesians 3:20-21)

The Rev. Dr. Jeff Hood

December 15, 2024

Rev. Clint Dobson, Steven Nelson & the Consequences of Vengeance

Even though there are a variety of mitigating circumstances and questionable evidence that Steven Nelson was the actual killer...Nelson is scheduled to be executed on February 5, 2024 for the murder of Rev. Clint Dobson. One of the primary supporters of the execution is Rev. Dobson's former employer, The First Baptist Church of Arlington.

To the leadership and people of First Baptist Church of Arlington,

It's been a month and a half since my last letter...

Luke 3:4-6, 7

"The voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be brought low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways shall be made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God."

In this season of Advent, the words of Isaiah still ring out down through the ages. John the Baptist used such words to preach of baptism for the forgiveness of sins. These moments prepared the way for the Son of God, Jesus the Christ. It seems as if stinging words from the wilderness have always been the forerunner of the inbreaking of the fullness of God.

Clint Dobson should still be alive. The evil actions and inactions of Steven Nelson and others deprived the world of an incredible man of God. Now what? For over a decade, you have selfishly drowned in your grief. Instead of helping people grow in grace, you have taught them that is appropriate to care about their temporal feelings above all else. Jesus is crying out in the midst of such lunacy, “I can’t breathe.” Drowning…at your inability to love. It’s as if you have this delusion that you matter more than anyone else. What an opportunity you have wasted.

Repeatedly, you could have shown the world what grace and compassion look like. There could have been an inbreaking of reconciliation. The world could have more fully seen Jesus. Why am I even having to say any of this? You know the truth. You know what you missed. You know what you’ve done.

Love was possible. Even in the midst of the horrors, love was possible. You could have straightened the crooked places. You could have lifted the valleys. You could have brought the mountains and hills low. You could have made the rough ways smooth. You could have made sure that all flesh could see the salvation of our God. Nope. You don’t care about anyone except your own vanity project that you call a church.

Even when we visited… We spoke of empathy. We spoke of love. We spoke of forgiveness. You spoke of nothing. Repeatedly, the press gave you the opportunity to speak a word of healing. Nothing. John the Baptist baptized with water. In our present hour, all you know how to do is to baptize this entire situation in shit. What type of Jesus are y’all teaching about? It seems to me that the only God that y’all know of is your grief. If that’s it, then more than just Clint Dobson died. Indeed, it seems that your connection to the powerful reconciliatory message of Jesus died as well.

You’ve missed it all. You let the evil of a moment scuttle your entire ministry. You are too rich and righteous to see that you have grown too rich and righteous to love and forgive. Open your damn eyes!

Pain is a heavy burden or all to bear. You have made it heavier. There could have been love. There could have been Jesus. Clint Dobson could have been known for so much more than being the victim of a murder. Your actions have made it close to certain that his legacy will be the execution of Steven Nelson. Your grief has now successfully destroyed all that you’ve said that you care about.

If there is one thing that I am sorry for, it is for encouraging Steven to believe that you might have some grace left in you. I do not wish you a Merry Christmas, on the contrary, I pray that you will be haunted until you repent of the evil ravenous spirit of vengeance you have both cultivated and perpetuated.

The Rev. Dr. Jeff Hood

January 2, 2025

We paint…therefore we're free. : On Painting, from Death Row

*Steven Nelson is a prisoner on death row in Texas. The Rev. Dr. Jeff Hood serves as his spiritual advisor. This piece flows out of a conversation that Dr. Hood had with Nelson on meditation

Painting is both a medium and a gateway. Energy flows through the brush onto the canvas. Emotions pour out to make the shapes of our lives. No matter what we produce looks like, it is a part of us. We are creating a glimpse of something that cannot be constructed in the exact same way ever again. The brush becomes akin to the very breathe of the creator, the catalyst for creation. The destination always changes and morphs with everyone who dares to engage that which is created. We too are always changed by how we create. Symbiotic growth is happening constantly, amorphously and passionately right before us, in us and beyond us. We are the ebbs and flows of the strokes and colors. We are both the creation and the creator. We are the movement of time and space.

Paint is a vehicle of course. We are the driver. The painter is required to think and do. Though their movements don’t have to be slow or even methodical, they do have to be intentional. No matter how the paint gets to the canvas, your mind must construct the movement that gets it there. Each application is important. Each color matters. There is language in the outcome of such choices. Both precision and fluidity create a symphony of creativity. We are transported to somewhere else because we have dared to create something else. Both the destination of the work itself and the future of the interpretation are influenced and launched by what we do.

Where are we going? When you first start to create, you have no idea. Our most carefully laid out plans can never predict everything that will appear. Lines are not exact. Colors are not clear. Images look different than we anticipated. There are all sorts of places of unpredictability that we might arrive at. Painting emulates life in this way. When we dare to create or live our lives, we can never fully anticipate what we will find. However, we learn to appreciate the creation because we are the creator and the creation is growing in and through us. There is no possible way to separate the painter from the painting.

Inspiration is usually assumed to come from somewhere else. The painter however knows different. Painting is a means of revelation. Primarily, the revelation of the self. Even if one encounters something inspiring, it still must fester within the painter before it can be utilized to create. Ultimately, we are always the source of our art, the revelation of our being.

Intimacy is transformative. We recognize that we are one with the other. The painter connects with the viewer of the painting. Sometimes the result is one of awe. Sometimes the work is one of disdain. No matter what the reaction, there is always some level of intimacy in the created reaction. The work of the painter consistently breaks down walls or gets in our heads. Once the painting is seen, there is no possible way to unsee it or stop it.

Paint is a means of fluid escape. Prison bars cannot hold the creation in. We paint…therefore we're free.

January 11, 2025

Poetry is freedom. Poetry is our freedom. : On Poetry, from Death Row

*Steven Nelson is a prisoner on death row in Texas. The Rev. Dr. Jeff Hood serves as his spiritual advisor. This piece flows out of a conversation that Dr. Hood had with Nelson on poetry

The description of thoughts set free are the undergirding of poetry. If we restrain the mind, we cannot describe the beauty of what we find. Beauty by its’ very nature is defined by freedom. If one cannot be free physically, then they must discover ways to be free in the constitution of their soul. Words provide description of the fullness of somewhere else. Then again, describing the fullness of one’s circumstance is the first step in the transcendent journey to somewhere else. Maybe the best way to say it is that poetry is an unstoppable force that busts through the walls of all perceived or real impediment that might hold us back.

What is there beyond what is? Everything. We stay grounded because we choose to believe that the poetic has no power. The only way to claim our freedom is to choose to believe that our thoughts can never be imprisoned. Poetry is the force of freedom. We all have freedom within us. We all can be free.

Why do we think that only the gifted can be free? Creativity is not a scarce entity. The will to utilize it is. Indeed, we are all poets. We all have the ability. Why do we hold back? It seems that prison has a way of stripping everything from you until all you have is your fundamental being. Then, you realize that your being is all that you need. Poetry flows from being. When we describe reality, we are revealing essence. The construction of poetry is nothing more than the stripping of the false self. The trading of the mirage of our perceptions for the reality that is the beauty of truth and essence.

Poetry is so much more than words. Poetry is freedom. Poetry is our freedom. Are we courageous enough to be free?

There are many poets behind bars. There seem to be a great deal fewer in the free world.

February 18, 2025

*Initially appeared in Premier Magazine in the United Kingdom

Steven Nelson didn’t deserve to die.

Rev Dr Jeff Hood met Steven Nelson, convicted for the murder of a church pastor, on death row in Texas. Steven protested his innocence until the end, but whatever the truth of his case, he should not have been executed, says Hood. We are not righteous enough to judge someone else in that way.

When I met Steven Nelson, there were no lights, no reporters, and no cameras. Immediately, it was clear that he was much quieter than the headlines I’d read about him. Of course, I’d encountered misleading headlines before. If you want to know the truth, you must always go deeper. Immediately, it was clear that Steven had been hardened by a lifetime of broken promises and dreams. That’s where I found him, but that’s not where we stayed. In time, we grew to love each other very much.

But in the background, there were always the headlines.

In a highly publicized trial, Steven was convicted of the brutal murder of Rev Clint Dobson (suffocated to death with a plastic bag) and the assault of church secretary, Judy Elliott (beaten mercilessly) at Northpointe Baptist Church in Arlington, Texas during an attempted robbery. In addition, Steven committed a variety of infractions while imprisoned at the Tarrant County Jail, and was also a suspect in the murder of a fellow inmate, Jonathan Holden.

Details such as these are more likely to elicit horror than compassion. But truth is always more complicated than either our dreams or our dichotomies.

You can’t love your neighbor and kill them at the same time.

When I first encounter people that I’m working with on death row, I don’t go directly to the crime. Who would want to begin a relationship talking about the worst thing they’d ever done? Truth be known, I care more about the person. I guess I can’t help but recall the words of Jesus in Luke 9:60: “Let the dead bury the dead.” My responsibility is to the living.

However, the crime never stays hidden for long.

Steven described the crime very differently than the headlines. Instead of being the lone perpetrator, he said he was the lookout. He recalled only seeing the bodies of Rev. Dobson and Judy Elliott one time, when he went in to steal some items out of the church. Steven said that he didn’t even know that Dobson had died until he saw it on the news. Such a story is a far cry from the ruthless barbarism described in the press. With regard to the numerous incidences in jail, Steven described himself as someone desperately trying to resist the oppression and injustice that surrounded him. He said that Jonathan Holden committed suicide, and that he had nothing to do with it.

So, what’s the truth?  I still don’t know. I’m not sure anybody does. I’m suspicious of the headlines, but unaware of the location of the irrefutable evidence necessary to prove them wrong. It’s here that most people get lost. We demand answers at the expense of what we know to be most true: love.

Just like I do with all the people on death row that I work with, I fought very hard to try and save the mortal life of Steven Nelson. The greatest enemy I faced was First Baptist Church of Arlington, Rev Dobson’s former employer. A body of followers of Jesus were the biggest supporters of Steven’s execution.

You do not have to look too far into scripture to figure out why the death penalty is an apostasy of the highest order. Jesus commands in Mark 12:31: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” You can’t love your neighbour and kill them at the same time. Jesus only attended one execution besides his own, in John 8:1-11 - and he placed his very body between the woman accused of adultery and her executioners. If the stones had started flying, Jesus was prepared to die with her.

The lines that Jesus uttered have rung down through the ages: “Let the one who is without sin throw the first stone.” I read this passage as the State of Texas executed Steven. While it didn’t stop the executioners, it did register resistance. In an age of indifference, Jesus makes it clear that our call is to be human amid horror.

You do not have to look too far into scripture to figure out why the death penalty is an apostasy of the highest order

If being fully human (and as such fully divine) is the measure of what it means to follow Jesus, Steven far outpaced those who wanted him dead. Matthew 25:36 makes it clear that Jesus is incarnate in our prisons far more than he is incarnate in our churches.

I don’t know that I can say it any better than I did to the Texas Observer right before Steven was executed: “The question is not about the perpetrator. It’s about us. Are we righteous enough to kill someone? Are we righteous enough to judge someone in that way? I knew that his case involved killing a pastor. And I also knew that this was going to be a circumstance where the church was going to advocate for him to be executed. And…to me, it’s like taking a big s*** on the face of Jesus to advocate for someone to be killed.”

March 1, 2025

The Only Eyewitness Narrative of the Execution of Steven Nelson

Opening the door, I stepped out of the car.

The cement seemed to grab my feet. I didn’t want to go in, but I knew what was required of me. The guard in charge of both my safety and compliance met me there. I recognized her. I just couldn’t place her. We walked through the metal detectors. I got felt up. Then, it dawned on me. She was the same guard who’d accompanied me the last time. Eventually, I was led to a small room to wait. Of course, we engaged in a variety of small talk. It’s always so strange to keep the conversation going when one knows that murder is so close. I tried not to step out of line. Slowly, I started to get sick. Eventually, she let me go to the bathroom. It seemed that as soon as I got the door open, I heaved towards the toilet. I puked my guts out. I don’t know if it was nerves or what. I just know that it seemed I was baring my soul to the toilet. When I walked back out, I knew I was leaving something there both literally and figuratively. I was not ok.

It wasn’t long before Steven asked for me to come back. Walking the halls, everyone stared. They all knew what I was there for. As soon as Steven saw me, he smiled and said, “Hell yeah.” Immediately, I was put at ease. He always seemed to know what to say. We sat down together. There was a tight grate between us. Steven was very nervous and jumping around everywhere. “I refuse to assist in my own execution.” Immediately, I knew he’d been resisting the entire time. Slowly, things settled down. Drawing close, I asked, “Are you still afraid?” He replied, “In and out.” Drawing closer, I expressed with all of the emotion that I could muster, “Love is in you. Love has redeemed you. You are forgiven.” Furthermore, I assured him that love is the greatest resistance of all. The entirety of his being changed. In those opening minutes, peace found both of us.

In the ensuing moments, Steven wanted to know about Noa. I assured him that she was fine and loved him very much. “Take care of Noa.” He wanted to make sure that I heard him. “You are responsible for Noa.” “Understood,” I replied. Leaning in, he asked me to touch his finger. The grate was pinhole size. I put my finger to the grate and pressed as hard as I could. Finally, I touched his finger. It was the first time he’d touched someone he loved from the outside in over a decade. When I pulled my finger back, I felt the pain. Blood had collected on my fingertip. I’d pressed the grate so hard that my finger was bleeding. I didn’t care. I would have pressed harder if I could. When it came time to finish the visit, I reminded him that he would see me in the chamber. “I always knew that I would.”

It’s strange to wait for an execution. One second, you think you’re ready. The next second, you know you’re not. Back and forth. Over and over. Everywhere again and again. Then, the door opens, and the world stops. Your stomach hits the floor. “Dr. Hood?” The guard summoned me back. I picked up my stomach. Quickly, I regained my composure. I stood up and moved toward the door. It was time.

The halls looked different this time. It seemed like every side was about to collapse on top of me. Time grew slower and faster at the same time. I had trouble concentrating. I couldn’t figure out what was taking so long. Nerves were palpable. Then, I realized. True to his word, Steven was not going quietly.

When I finally got into the chamber, Steven looked up and said, “Good evening, Jeff.” He always knew how to put someone he loved at ease. Then again, he also knew how to stir folk up. Though the execution team wanted total silence, Steven just kept on talking. I oscillated between trying not to get kicked out of the chamber and doing my best to respond to what he had to say. I kept telling him that I love him. Then came a point, where Steven said, “You don’t have to keep saying it. I know. I love you too.” He motioned for me to lean in. “Take care of Noa. You’re the only family she’s got now.” I kept saying “I will” over and over. While we were talking, I looked down and noticed bandages on his arms. Immediately, I figured that these were the result of his resistance. He saw me looking. “I wasn’t going to make it easy on them.” When he looked up at my face, he knew what I was thinking. “You didn’t fail, Jeff. You did more for me than I ever could have imagined possible. You’re the best damn spiritual advisor ever.” The execution started.

From that moment on, Steven turned his head to Noa and kept telling here he loved her over and over. It was really beautiful. Then, I placed my hand on his head. He continued talking to Noa. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” In the midst of it all, I read John 8. Growing louder and louder, I arrived at the pivotal words, “Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone.” Everything was inflamed. When he finished his final words of love to Noa, I could tell that the poison was already starting to flow. The colors of the rainbow started to flow through his face. I kept making the sign of the cross over and over. Then, his face turned white. Through it all, Steven kept saying, “Love. Love Love.” Then, it was over. In every direction, I made the sign of the cross. I wanted love to be the last thing that everyone in that chamber remembered. Before I left, I looked at Noa and told her I loved her. The huge door to the chamber opened and I went through. Then, the night swallowed me whole.

Eventually, I made it to the small chapel where Steven’s body was taken. We went inside. As Noa and I stood over Steven’s body, we held hands and prayed. I repeated the same words over and over, “God, thank you for Steven. God, thank you for Steven. God, thank you for Steven.”