Uncaged Spirit
I didn’t choose to be involved in jail ministry; well
not really. I was kind of abandoned on
the jailhouse steps by a friend of mine.
It was early in my discernment of the diaconate, that an
already-ordained deacon friend of mine shared that if I wanted to see what being
a deacon was all about that I should look into jail ministry. He knew of a new group that was just starting
up a monthly ministry at the Brown County Jail and he invited me to their “organizational”
meeting.
At the meeting I met Ed, who attended the Moravian
Church, and Bob, who was Lutheran, and
Ken, who attended a Pentecostal church.
They all had long histories of prison ministry, while I had never even
been inside one. Ed then shared that this
was a weekly Bible-Study ministry, not monthly.
While that was sinking in, Ed stood up and suddenly announced, “Well let’s
get started.” The organizational meeting
turned into my first experience face-to-face with jail inmates. Afterwards, my “friend” explained that the
next week he was starting a six-week discussion series at his parish, so he
wouldn’t be able to join until after that.
I didn’t have an excuse, so I said that I would be back next week. My deacon friend conveniently forgot about
joining us later on. By then though, I
was hooked, and I continued coming weekly for the next 13 years. There were hundreds of memorable encounters,
but here’s three that stand out.
Hector was in the first discussion group I led. Hector was a prophet in the true sense of the
vocation. A prophet’s main
responsibility is to encourage people to return to God. Hector worked hard to get people to commit to
come to our Bible Studies. And if they
didn’t show up he went out and found them and brought them back. He was a natural leader who the men obviously
respected.
Hector was the son of a preacher, so he knew a lot of
scripture by heart. What’s more is he
understood it, and he was very good at explaining it to others. Hector’s legal case was especially
complicated and it took 13 months to sort through it all. It’s very unusual to have a steady
participant in a county jail environment, because the jail population is so
transitory. Men are constantly being
released, or shifted from jail to prison.
When Hector was finally sentenced to prison and told us that he was
getting shipped out, I was very concerned about what would happen without his
leadership in that pod. To my amazement,
when we returned for our next meeting Jim, someone who had been a very quiet and
unassuming participant for about 4 months, was busy rousting people out of
their bunks or away from the tv. Jim
became very outspoken in the small group discussions, and he had some great
insights into understanding scripture and applying it to the life of a convict
that the other men appreciated and responded to. Just like Elisha for Elijah, God raised up a
new prophet. And while it’s not always
the case, I have been amazed at how many prophets I have seen God raise up over
the years. He does not leave his children orphaned.
Tim was a totally different story. When he started coming to our sessions he had
long hair that he combed over most of his face, and he either sat quietly and either
not participating or he argued. He was a
professed atheist who scoffed at any discussion about forgiveness and
redemption. Tim was very anti-Catholic. He claimed that Catholics aren’t even
Christian. We told him that as long as
he was respectful that he was welcome to keep coming. When we split up into smaller groups Tim
always – always asked to be in my group.
Over the months Tim’s challenges became questions that it was obvious he
really wanted answers to. About halfway
through Tim’s time with us he got his hair cut so that we could see his face
and look into his eyes. A month later he
came with his own Bible. A month later
that Bible was dog-eared from use. A
month later he professed to the group that he now considered himself a
Christian. The next week we found that Tim
had been sentenced and moved out to prison, so I never got to talk with him
again, but I am confident that he went to prison much more prepared to make a real change in his life and much more convinced that he was lovable and that Jesus
was at his side. Jesus seeks out the lost sheep.
Steve was tough guy.
He was a gang member covered with tattoos of skulls and knives dripping
blood. I admit that he intimidated me,
although I did my best not to let him know that. Steve ambushed me one evening. He had been quiet but listening. Finally, he looked at me with piercing eyes and
said, “What do you know about it?”
“About what” I asked? “Have you
ever been in prison?” “No”. “Ever even been arrested?” “No”.
“You’ve had it so easy, what do you know about what our world is
like? I can’t relate to you at
all.” I looked at him for a second, and then
I told him some stories about one of my sons and his struggles with addictions
and his times in jails and prison. “Maybe
I haven’t been there physically”, I told him, “But my heart has been
there.” Steve didn’t answer, but he did
kind of nod his head just a bit. A
couple months later Steve was in my group again. He was not quiet; he was actively engaged in
the discussion. At the end, before we
closed with prayer I always asked if anyone has any special intentions. Steve looked at me with caring eyes and
asked, “How’s your son doing? I want you
to know that I’m praying for him.” With
all of his own needs and tough challenges Steve found the compassion to pray
for my son, a stranger who he never met.
Just when you think that you’re
doing the serving, Jesus shows up and washes your feet, and brings you to
deeper conversion.
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
Photo by John McMahon on Unsplash
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