There are many ways to get involved in prison ministry, not
all of which require face to face contact with inmates. Correspondence can
encourage and teach and isn’t dependent on proximity to a custodial centre.
Support, both financial and prayer, is vital – prison ministry takes the battle
into Satan’s stronghold, a place where many souls are enslaved, and he doesn’t
want to relinquish them without a fight. Faithful pray-ers are essential.
However, it is a privilege to be able to go into the
prisons and see the difference that hope can make in the lives of those who
feel they’ve been abandoned by God and society, all the time remembering Jesus’
instructions to be “as shrewd as snakes and harmless as doves” (Matt. 10:16).
We approach everyone with the conviction that Jesus can change the hardest
heart and reform the most corrupted life but we know that we live in a fallen
world and not everyone (particularly in prison) has innocent motives. It’s a
long journey from conversion to perfection and old habits can be hard to
discard. We aim to bring the truth and cut through lies, searing through
self-deception, giving the inmates an alternative to the falsehoods they’ve
built their lives upon.
One of the most effective ways of accomplishing this happens
during a Restorative Justice course. In my experience with South Africa’s Hope
Prison Ministry I
have seen eyes opened and lives changed as inmates are confronted with
themselves and their victims. This is an example of how prison ministry can
change lives without preaching. We must be creative and courageous.
At first sight, the requirements of a Restorative Justice
course seem mountainous. Twenty-four inmates need to be selected and organised
to attend sessions for six hours a day, Monday to Saturday, with all the
concomitant arrangements for warders, security and bureaucracy. Six volunteer
facilitators (one for each table of four inmates) with ideally six assistants
are needed, a main session leader and people to organise and bring in lunch
from the outside, as an important part of the course is sharing a non-prison
food meal at the table. The potential for complications and frustration is
immense but with God everything is possible. Exceptions are made to prison
rules, minor miracles occur, the paperwork comes through and on the Monday
morning twenty-four men are sitting four to a table with their facilitators,
wondering what on earth they’ve let themselves in for.
Restorative Justice is a voluntary process. It has to be,
just as Jesus doesn’t force himself upon anyone but stands at the door and
knocks, waiting for us to open it to him. Motives are mixed for attending. Some
participants truly want to change their lives, others see it as a way to get
through the parole board hearing, some think it’ll be an easy place to pass
around contraband or gang-related communications but, whatever reason brings
them initially, no one leaves unaffected.
The first softening comes when inmates who are used so often
to being looked on as dirt, find that they are treated with respect as fellow
humans: a small thing but powerful. They discover that the table they’ll sit at
for the rest of the week is a place of safety where they can realise and share
things they’ve never thought of before. The rules are strict: what’s said at
the table stays at the table, show respect, and that includes showing enough
respect not to lie. If a man isn’t ready to discuss a subject then he should
say so, rather than make something up. If you treat someone as a prisoner or
delinquent the chances are that’s how he’ll behave. Treat him with respect as
someone who is capable of rising to the occasion and he’ll probably try to live
up to expectations. Of course this leaves one open to betrayal and
disappointment but if no one is given a chance then how will change ever occur?
God is love and Jesus the embodiment of that love, but
genuine love does not shy away from hard questions. It’s easy to plaster over
the cracks, to hide the wounds under a bandage without first cleaning them out
but then the wounds fester and when they break open again the effect is many
times worse. Facing up to yourself is an uncomfortable process and we can thank
God for his mercy in not revealing all our deficiencies to us at once. The
first day of Restorative Justice focuses on the men, helping them to realise
that people who’ve been hurt often hurt others in their turn. For some it’s a
revelation. In South Africa the legacy of the evil of apartheid is still very
strong. An old man who’d been in prison for about fifty years, realised for the
first time that his hatred of whites started when he came home from school one
day to find that his family had been forcibly removed from their farm: he’d
never before made the connection. Another man (sentenced for rape) witnessed
the murder of his father by two gangsters when he was six years old. They saw
the little boy watching and called over their girlfriends to help tie him up
and throw him into the lake to drown. He managed to swim to safety but during
Restorative Justice he realised that he’d been taking revenge on women ever
since. Those women who’d tried to drown him were mothers and should have been
protecting him. They didn’t, and in his mind the seeds of hatred and crime were
sown.
There are very few actual psychopaths. Not many children are
born with an inability to feel emotion or connect with others. Not many five
year olds have a desire to grow up to commit crimes and end up in prison.
Something happens. Someone happens. Bad choices are made. Sheep without a
shepherd don’t know which way to go (Matt. 9:36). This does not excuse criminal
acts, nor nullify their devastating effects. We all need to take honest
responsibility for our deeds but sometimes seeing where it all began can be a
help in avoiding continually going down the same path.
Day two focuses on victims. Restorative Justice isn’t
designed to make inmates feel better about themselves by sticking a plaster on
an uncleaned wound. It’s about facing up to what they did, taking
responsibility, washing out the dirt. A universal human characteristic since
the Fall is putting ourselves at the centre of the universe. To a greater or
lesser extent we learn from childhood that the world doesn’t revolve around us
but the tendencies towards self-centred selfishness are always below the
surface. To many criminals, thinking about others doesn’t come easily. What
they want is more important and they don’t often stop to think about the effect
their actions have on other people. Restorative Justice forces them to do that
with victim testimonies, crime scene photos and an explanation of the ripple
effect of crime. Many see themselves as the victim, especially as they’re not
happy at being incarcerated, but when the ripples affecting the real victims
are made clear and include family, friends, neighbours, emergency services,
families of traumatised emergency workers, all the way out to tax-payers, cracks
in the self-centred shell start to appear. “My eyes have been opened,” said one
participant whose community didn’t condemn his criminal activity as long as it
didn’t happen in their area. “I never thought of this before. I didn’t realise
I hurt so many people.”
By this stage a relationship of trust has started to grow
between men and ministry volunteers. When people who have been sitting and
caring stand up to share their experiences of crime, whether that’s rape or
burglary, the impact is strong. Jesus sees us as individually loved people.
It’s easier to gloss over harm committed against someone labelled as from a
different culture, “asking for it” or being “disrespectful”; it’s much harder
if that person has a face and a name and can relate the details of the offence
as if it happened yesterday. One of the most powerful times of the week is
after a rape victim has given her testimony. Many men are incarcerated for rape
but hardly spare a thought for the effect it has on their victim. “She’ll get
over it,” is a common attitude. Hearing from someone they’re growing to respect
about how her life was affected makes them face up to reality. Many will admit
that they pleaded not guilty at their rape trial but know that they did it and
now want to confess and apologise.
Don't copy the behaviour and customs of this world, but
let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think.
(Romans 12:2)
Thinking patterns, errors and attitudes can be set at an
early age, particularly when they conform to the expectations of the world.
Followers of Jesus, whose own minds are being transformed by God, need to
challenge worldly behaviour and customs. The rest of the Restorative Justice week
deals with this, helping the men recognise the thinking errors they fall into,
the ways they deceive themselves, the masks they hide behind. A changed life
needs to be built on new foundations - honesty, integrity, respect, trust – all
of which are required to bring about restoration of life and relationships. We
each need to take responsibility for the mess we make, whether we’re
incarcerated or not, and do what we can to clean it up.
The Saturday is restoration in action. Each man is given the
opportunity to invite a couple of family members. These family members are
given the chance to ask any question, anything they want to know that they’ve
never felt able to ask in the past, and the men are prepared to answer
honestly, no more lies. Many people don’t know if the man actually committed
the crime he was sentenced for. The visitors of one man who’d been sentenced
for rape and had been in prison for eighteen years, confronted him on the
Saturday. “You were in and out of my house,” the husband said. “I treated you
like a brother. Now I have young daughters of my own. I don’t know if I can
trust you; I don’t want you to come near them. You pleaded not guilty but did
you commit the crime?”
The man and his wife had been visiting the prison for the
inmate’s whole sentence. Every time they’d wanted to ask if he was guilty;
every time they’d returned home not having had the courage to ask.
“Yes, I committed the crime.”
The visitor’s wife stepped forward. “Now you have been
honest. You are welcome in my home. On the day of your release there will be a
party waiting for you at our house.”
This is what prison ministry can do, without preaching.
Jesus is the foundation; he is the only true hope for a changed life and the
restoration of our relationships with God and others, in public and in private.
He prepares the way, but he invites his followers to meet with him in all
spheres of life, from government to prison.
There are many opportunities to show Jesus’ love to inmates.
A Christian sacrificing time and effort to teach literacy or life-skills.
Turning up regularly and transferring a skill that could help find an honest
job on the outside. Holiness doesn’t have to be impractical or theoretical.
Jesus was a carpenter. It’s possible that he never talked about God as he
worked but it’s hardly likely. Christians in business can show how it’s
possible to succeed in a way that honours God and doesn’t cut corners.
Prison ministry doesn’t end on the day a man’s released.
Many of those who genuinely desire to leave their lives of crime are drawn back
into criminality and gaol due to lack of support on the outside. Churches need
to look beyond a man’s past and help him become what God knows he can be. Too
often the door is shut and bolted instead. We’re back to “shrewd as snakes and
harmless as doves” – give a man a chance but don’t take stupid risks. Live in
the abundance and abandonment of Jesus’ love, seasoned with the discernment of
the Holy Spirit.
Every prisoner whose life is changed by God’s forgiveness is
one who will break the cycle of crime through the generations. Think of the
difference in communities if youth didn’t join gangs to find the love their own
family denied; if people trusted God to provide instead of stealing what they
wanted; if Jesus’ followers reached out to and discipled the lost. It could
take many years to make a change but it has to start somewhere.
Practical Christianity is about bringing Jesus and healing
into lives that have wrecked communities in the past and have the potential to
continue doing so in the future. It’s about binding up the wounded and
comforting the broken-hearted. It’s learning how to worship from those who
truly know what it means to be forgiven much. It’s pointing the way towards the
One who can set the captives free, even if they’ll still be behind physical
bars for the twenty years left on their sentence.