I spent another Monday evening this week in a place filled with many who are spiritually dead. These spirits of the walking wounded live in the county jail. This week was no different, a bit of a struggle getting there, but I’m always rewarded with the sweet spirit of redemption in progress, as I teach and am taught. 
We talked about the “simple” beauty all around us. Some of the guys are even coming to the realization that so few inmates arrive at. That this time of incarceration can provide the pivotal spiritual awakening that they’ve needed for so very long. One in particular gives me great hope. He’s been completing his assignments, takes notes in class, and finally volunteers to say a prayer. The prayer. Simple. Direct. Humble. Tearful. Desperate. Seeking. Childlike. Thank you dear God. Thanks for bringing me here. 

Most of these guys I’ll see again as they come and go. Many of them have been in and out as long as I’ve been coming in as a volunteer. A couple of them I first met 15 years ago at the state prison when I was on the other side of the bars living with them. Each time they come back they’ve shrunk to new lows. Physically and spiritually frail from the ravages of drugs and life on the wrong team. Slowly they come to life as they clean up. A light returns to their eyes. They invite Christ back in and they think clearly and see the very distinct difference in the two potential paths that start at the gates of free agency. One leads to happiness, but requires a type of effort most of them have never been adequately trained in. The other leads to instant gratification and eventually death. This second path, if they’re lucky, loops around to the county jail again.

In the middle of the meeting a voice comes over the intercom, “hey John, roll up and come to booking, you’re out of here.” He’s been in for over 6 months, and now with no warning he’s out. He’s the one that I mentioned that I have hope for. He’s found something different this time and he knows it. The peace and faith he’s found behind the bars will now be tested. When will I see him again and where? 

It’s easy to get frustrated with these guys. It’s natural I believe to become jaded and dismiss any potential hope you have for redemption. I’ve been let down about 90% of the time. I confess that sometimes I just want to bag it, quit coming, it’s not really making a difference anyway. I’ve heard their promises over and over. “This time is different, I’m not coming back. My kids need me, my lady needs me.”   “If I go on another run I’ll die. I’ve found God this time, I put that on my skin, I’m done.” Yea,yea,yea. It’s easy to doubt and feel tempted to write them off.

However, the truth is, even if none of them ever make that permanent change, I still find value in going. They don’t realize how much they help and inspire me. They and this place are continual reminders of two important thoughts for me. Number one, I’m reminded weekly of where I never want to live again, physically and spiritually incarcerated as a result of sin.  Secondly, I find the spirit of the divine behind those walls of cement and steel. 

 We are all prisoners convicted by sin. Every single one of us. Our only hope for release is the redeeming sacrifice of the gate keeper. The sins of my inmate brothers are certainly more visible, but mine are just as damning (I recall something about a “mote and a beam”) We are all totally dependent on a God who thank goodness never ever quits coming around.  If God is going to continue showing up, well, then I guess I better follow his lead…………..See you next Monday guys.