… You visited me: the call to prison ministry

WHEN I WAS a newly ordained pastor in 1966, I heard a speech by a federal judge that significantly shaped my life and ministry. The judge said that he kept in contact with every person he sentenced to prison. His rationale for writing or visiting inmates was simple: he didn't want his only impact on an individual to be the act of denying his or her freedom.

This highly regarded jurist then said, "Pastors should be as familiar with the inside of the local jails and prisons as they are the local hospitals." He observed that most people who are hospitalized have a strong support system and are surrounded by people devoted to their healing and well-being. By contrast, people housed in jails and prisons receive minimal support, and the people around them are mostly committed to confining and punishing them.

Though as a pastor I had visited hospitals almost daily, I had never been inside a jail. Within a few weeks of hearing that judge's challenge, I made my first visit to the county jail. I reluctantly and anxiously entered a world often hidden from and ignored by congregations and pastors. There I met more than law enforcement officers and inmates. I met the One who said, "I was in prison and you visited me."

The incarcerated are among the fastest-growing populations in the U.S. Approximately 4,500 are added to the prison population each month. According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics for 2004, there are more than 2.2 million inmates in the nation's jails. The 2004 figures reflect a record 32-year continuous rise in the number of inmates. The U.S. incarceration rate of 724 per 100,000 residents is the highest in the world. The rate of incarceration has quintupled since 1971. Prisons and jails are grossly overcrowded, with no relief in sight.

Prison ministries are usually relegated to specialized groups such as Prison Fellowship or Kairos. Inmates are seldom on the regular visitation schedules of pastors. Government-funded prison chaplains are relied upon to provide pastoral care and religious services to inmates. Very few local jails have chaplains. While many dedicated chaplains serve in prisons, they are often seen as hired hands of the department of corrections, and they often lack the trust of inmates.

For pastors, finding the time to add prisoners to the list of those to be visited is a challenge. Personal fear and lack of confidence in relating to the criminal-justice system creates understandable hesitation and resistance. Entering the unfamiliar world of inmates entails moving outside comfort zones, and those who desire to do so will receive little encouragement.

Hostility and prejudice toward the incarcerated are impediments to ministry. The criminal justice system is dominated by notions of retribution, vengeance, punishment and isolation. The core values of the Christian gospel--forgiveness, compassion, redemption, reconciliation, restorative justice--run counter to prevailing sentiments in the justice system.

Pastors and congregations engaged in prison ministry often meet bureaucratic resistance. Prison staffs are overworked, underpaid and undervalued, and they work in a high-stress environment. They are among those who need the ministry of the church. Building trust among the staff is essential for access and effectiveness in any prison ministry.

Though the obstacles are formidable, the potential benefits to pastors and congregations are substantial. And much is at stake: faithfulness to Christ's mandate and mission, renewal of the church's witness and ministry, the theological integrity of the church's proclamation, the spiritual vitality of pastors, and the well-being of more than 2 million inmates and their families.

Prisons and jails present in microcosm the challenges confronting the church and the world--racial polarization, economic disparity and poverty, terror and violence, drug and alcohol abuse, personal and family brokenness, isolation and loneliness, anger and meaninglessness and guilt. Behind the walls of every prison and jail are fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, friends and neighbors--all persons made in the divine image who, like the rest of us, have distorted that image and who long for love, reconciliation and purpose. Ministry in such contexts of intense needs and opportunities can energize and shape ministry in the broader society where the same realities exist in less concentrated form.

Inmates and their families have shaped my own experience and understanding of the gospel. During my first jail visit a young man asked to speak with me privately. Ed was a muscular man whose arms were covered with tattoos. On his left arm was inscribed Born to Lose, and on his other arm, Born to Raise Hell. He immediately blurted out, "How do I get God in my life?"

"Why," I asked, "do you want God in your life? What difference do you think that would make?"

For the next several minutes he shared his life's story of abuse, foster homes, repeated incarcerations for drunkenness, theft and larceny. He then added sorrowfully, "I've obviously made a mess of my life. I want to amount to something. I've hurt a lot of people and I ain't worth shit."