Posts Tagged ‘prison ministry’

Much convincing and prodding

September 6, 2010

My quiet time each morning is from 6:45 a.m. to about 7:30 a.m. Lately I have been spending the time with the daily Lectionary readings and one of Thomas Merton’s books: Thoughts in Solitude. The book’s chapters are short, and one or two at a time usually does it.

Today is Labor Day.This morning as I sat down I was wondering why I was thinking about going down to the prison to visit the men in solitary. I wondered why I was going down there when I could/should be relaxing on the patio and enjoying the beautiful weather. Going down there at all usually requires much convincing and prodding on my part. After a few minutes, something inside me said, “Do your readings.”

In Merton was this quote on page 103: “Whatever may be our vocation we are called to be witnesses and ministers of the Divine Mercy.” There it was. A clear and unequivocal statement of why I felt the pull to drive 1 hour and 20 minutes south to stand in a noisy wing trying to listen to some offenders through solid steel doors.

I went. It was good.

It’s going to be warm this weekend

July 2, 2010

July 2, 2010

Our first weekend in Saint Louis was the weekend of July 4th. We had been married a week … a new life in a newly adopted city … and everything was fun, new, fresh, and filled with excitement and anticipation.

Saint Louis gave us a warm welcome. In fact, every 4th of July in Saint Louis is either hot and muggy or hot, muggy and rainy. Quite a shock, actually, for two people from the land of the people with “blond hair and blue ears,” (a comment made by Lou Holtz when he left Arkansas in 1984 to coach at Minnesota).

The 4th was on a Saturday in 1964, and the go-to fireworks display in those days was at Francis Field on the campus of Washington University, one of the venues for the 1904 Olympics. Riverfront displays would have to wait until after the Arch was completed in October of the following year.

That first year for us was also the bi-centennial celebration for the City of Saint Louis, and a special flag was flying from poles everywhere.

In addition to a new life and a new city, the Monday following that first weekend was to be my first day at work and the start of my professional career. Lots of change at one time: the two of us had graduated from college, gotten married, and moved away from home (the first time for both of us) over a period of a little more than 3 weeks. And then the need to get to work to earn a living. An adventure? You bet!

So, here I sit many years later, on the other side of both of our careers, and well into our retirement years. And it’s going to be warm this weekend … very warm.

I’ve been reading the writings of Thomas Merton off and on over the past few years. James Finley’s book, Merton’s Palace of Nowhere, has been a useful guide, and I just finished my second reading.

There is a quote from Merton on page 144 of Finley’s book that spoke to me this morning:

There is only one problem on which all my existence, my peace, my happiness depend: to discover myself in discovering God. If I find Him I will find myself and if I find my true self I will find Him.

“My existence, my peace, my happiness,” I get that. All the living and loving since that 4th of July weekend many years ago has been the beginning of molding and drawing forth a self I was not seeking, nor could I have imagined.

Career ups and downs, family joys and sorrows, reading , learning, exploring, engaging, have helped me understand the importance of others and the seeming insignificance of what Finley calls the ego-self.

He says, with a quote from Merton, that the ego-self’s “existence has meaning in so far as it does not become fixated or centered upon itself as ultimate, learns to function not as its own center but ‘from God’ and ‘for others.’”

I’m not so sure I would understand what that means if I had stayed within my comfort zone over the last 20 years. Encountering people in areas outside of my comfort zone has exposed me to many circumstances of great deprivation, discouragement, loneliness, poverty, psychological dysfunction, addiction, obsession, feelings of abandonment and despair. What can one do in such situations but grow in awareness and sensitivity of the lives of others?

There are times when my only reaction, my only response, has been to simply listen. I am either employing good pastoral technique, or I am struck dumb in the face of such hopeless situations. It is difficult to discern which in any given moment.

Retirement presents, to me, a clear choice between simply keeping busy and having something to do, something that can contribute to continued growth in myself as well as in those whom I encounter.

I am grateful I am able to choose the latter. It seems to me that making that retirement choice, or even realizing that there is a choice to be made, is the work of God’s grace … allowing the Other to help me see things differently.

Being comfortable and playing in leisure when so many are truly suffering all day and everyday doesn’t mesh with my understanding of what we are called to do in this life. That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy fishing, a good book or movie, stretching out and listening to music, going for an early morning run, enjoying a meal out with friends. But keeping things in perspective and maintaining a balance are important to me.

That’s what I’m thinking about as we enter this weekend of celebration and remembrance. I just put our flag out by the front door where it is blowing in today’s warm Saint Louis breeze. The red, white, and blue against the trees and sky is a thing of beauty and hope.

A little fresh air and sunshine will be nice

May 14, 2010

Short visits to the prison are better than no visits. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Today, I needed to see three people (offenders in solitary)  for sure, and I needed to inform one other offender about future communion service plans. All of that was accomplished, and I returned home.

I should be up to full speed in another couple of weeks. Until then, a triage approach to my visits to those in solitary will have to suffice.

This weekend should see and end to the rain, and, hopefully, will present an opportunity for some leisure time outside. A little fresh air and sunshine will be nice … unless a “to do” list is being generated elsewhere, of course.

I can’t help but wonder

May 12, 2010

My Room 101 in hell will resemble a before-dinner reception at an out-of-town business conference.  There are few things I dread more than walking into a room full of strangers for drinks, hors d’oeuvres, and small talk. Am I an introvert? You bet!

Naturally, I can’t help but wonder how or why I ever got started in prison ministry. Walking into a solitary confinement wing of 30-36 men, each one out of sight behind a solid steel door with a tiny window, has never been easy.

As I approach each door, I don’t know what to expect: what does he look like, where is he  from, how long has he been in prison, why is he  in solitary confinement. That I am extending myself beyond my comfort zone is an understatment.

It’s even worse when I haven’t gone to the prison for an extended period of time. When I went down yesterday, it had been 5 weeks. The longer I am away, the more detached I feel … almost to the point where I feel I don’t belong, that I don’t fit in. I experience a slight disorientation. Anxiety and discomfort begin to surface as I enter the prison.

On the other hand, setting foot in those housing units got me back into the game. Once I got going, was standing at the first cell door, became engaged in the first conversation, things smoothed out.

During an extended absence, I miss doing the work. I miss the ministry. I miss connecting with the men.

I’m glad to be back although the summer schedule does get a little fragmented and there will be more gaps in my visiting. When I’m not going to the prison on a regular basis, something is missing in my life.

I find little joy in just keeping busy; I need something to do, something that makes a difference in my life and the lives of others.

One offender said that he had never thanked me for the bookmark with the prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola. I’m guessing I gave that to him a year ago. That’s why I go, to bring my presence or anything else to help add a little meaning to a pretty bleak existence.

Yes, it is easy to become distracted

May 2, 2010

In this morning’s New York Times is an article by Nicholas Kristof which is one of the more thoughtful reflections on the Catholic Church today I have ever read. He speaks so well about the true church, the people, and the relentless efforts by many day after day to fulfill our baptismal obligations, to care for the poor and others in need, to love one another.

Yes, it is easy to become distracted by the betrayal we have been (and continue to be?) subjected to by the clerical hierarchy of the church. But the people I minister to, men in maximum security prisons, aren’t concerned with what goes on in diocesan offices or in the Vatican. If the pope and all the bishops were to drop dead, their lives wouldn’t change; their hunger and need for encouragement, support, and spiritual sustenance wouldn’t be diminished.

When I am standing at a cell door, the temporal presence of the Roman Catholic Church exists in only two people: me and the man on the other side of the door. Building the kingdom, proclaiming the good news, is  a “now” phenomenon taking place at the micro level in millions of instances every second of the day all over the world. What the pope or bishops think or declare about anything isn’t really part of the picture. It seems that the work of the church goes on in spite of them rather than because of them.

That’s an unfair statement. The deposit of faith has been developed, clarified, and passed down throughout the centuries by the same type of people who seem so out of touch today. But what they do and what they teach are two separate things. Once the sheep learned to read, things began to unravel.

The gospel message began to be seen more clearly as getting lost in all the pomp, rituals, as well continued bogus claims about the origins of some of our sacraments. Elaborate schemes to maintain any and all vestiges of power while suppressing  prophetic voices questioning the mythology, are becoming more and more visible and, naturally, more repulsive.

Going through the Vatican museum a couple of weeks ago, I noticed my pace quickening as the reality of that whole farce sank in further and further. How did such a  self-serving charade ever get started? Certainly not from the gospels, the teachings and practices of Jesus.

We humans seem to be unimaginative when it comes to conferring importance on things or people we hold dear. Sacred objects need to be gold. Monuments to saints – even those dedicated to living with and for the poor – are soaring, domed, cavernous structures filled with marble masterpieces, vast frescoes and mosaics, and paintings by the masters. All priceless stuff.

Leadership of our faith tradition are given a hierarchical structure, titles, positions of power, fine places to live. Then, of course, they develop their own laws, norms of behavior, rules of obedience and secrecy, and declarations of infallibility  to keep those under their spiritual care out of the sanctuaries and where they belong.

Read the Kristof article if you can find the time.

Goodness among the distastefulness

March 22, 2010

Over this past weekend we watched “Longford” starring Jim Broadbent as Frank Pakenham, the 7th Earl of Longford. Lord Longford spent several decades trying to secure the release of Myra Hindley, one of the two notorious serial killers convicted of  the Moors Murders in the mid 60s.

I haven’t seen Broadbent in any movie where he wasn’t superb. This portrayal was particularly riveting. The movie’s content, based on true events, was completely unknown to us.

On the surface, Lord Longford appears to have been obsessed, driven, and easily taken for a fool in his quest for the parole of Ms Hindley. Upon further reflection, however, it would seem he was merely acting on his moral convictions as we are all called to do.

His unconditional willingness to engage, embrace, and forgive those on the fringe of society, even those who have done great evil, and to find some goodness in everyone, was a strong expression of his Christian faith. The fact that this appears to be foolish behavior is, perhaps, a commentary on our secular culture’s frequent indifference toward and avoidance of those who are down-trodden, society’s throwaways.

He goes back to the cause for Hindley’s release again and again following instances of personal abuse, derision, and deception. Hopes rise, are dashed, and rise again. I don’t know what he was feeling in those moments, but I have a pretty good idea.

When I began my prison ministry, I was told my role was to be a non-judgmental, non-critical, loving presence. That presents a never-ending challenge. I’m not always that successful in any given moment, some of the men I see are quite distasteful and unlikeable, but I do keep going back to the same people. And I have found over the weeks, months, and years, that any distaste and dislike can – with persistence and repetition – gradually transform into the beginnings of affection, affection in brotherhood and solidarity with a child of God.

It is liking them in their unlikableness, finding a fragment of goodness among the distastefulness. Of course, it’s also realizing/remembering that my finding someone to be unlikable doesn’t mean they aren’t likable. My perceptions are usually what need the work rather than anything to be done by an offender or by anyone else. Trying to recast someone as I would like them to be is always a hopeless adventure no matter how great the temptation.

I do recommend the movie, especially for those involved in prison ministry.