Free on the Inside

Brother Victor died last Tuesday night, apparently after suffering a seizure. He was a gentle, somewhat quiet man who had been at the Fully Alive Bible Study at the Auburn Correctional Facility as long as I have been attending. The thing I most remember about him was his faithful service as the person who got water in a pitcher and poured it for each guest and man in the chapel. It was a much needed relief in the often hot, humid worship space. The heat in the chapel during the summer has been nearly unbearable at times - and even occasionally in winter, extraordinarily overheated and warm.

What a sad place to end your life – in prison. Yet what a joyous welcome Victor must have had coming into the presence of Jesus our Savior and friend!

I often think of the distribution of water as one of the ways the men can minister to us, rather than always being on the receiving end of our presence for prayer, praise and study. Sometimes we've seen a more mature Christian man directing a newer one in this act of service.

So last night and this evening, when I have another scrapbook project I want to be working on, I'm creating a scrapbooked scripture card to add to my collection that sits beside my prayer chair.  I've used songs and pictures and occassional stories to illustrate the meaning certain scripture has for me.  Interestingly, several have been created in response to experiences worshiping and studying with the men in the prison chapel.  It's holy ground for me, and I've learned so much from these incarcerated men, about how they have found freedom on the inside with Jesus Christ.

The scripture I'm using is Matthew 25:37&40.  There's lots of good stuff in that chapter but these verses speak to me of Victor's service -

"Lord, when did we see you...thirsty and give you something to drink?"  The King will reply, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of hte least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."

Zinnias

Zinnias are a blessing that keep turning up in my life. My most profound memory of them is years ago, the first time I served on a team to lead a three day retreat inside the prison. One of the guys, Ronald, reached over and gently touched the scarlet zinnia in the vase at the table. He looked at me and asked, “Are these real?” I wondered how long it had been since this man, incarcerate within high stone walls, had seen a fresh flower. We just held the retreat again a couple weeks ago, and another man seemed especially appreciative of the flowers. For years, a farmer friend of one of our team members has grown fields of zinnias and offers us all we want for the retreat. A bit of sacrificial love, shown to prisoners he’ll never meet.
Last summer, while helping to build a house in the Dominican Republic for a family, I saw some beautiful tropical flowers, but was most amazed at the zinnias growing near “our” house – along a rusting barbed wire fence. In a haunting way, they were beautiful with the shadow of barbed wire against the stucco house, .

Early this spring when I decided to start some seeds indoors for my garden – something I had never done before – among the seeds I chose were zinnias. Much to my amazement, they sprouted and I transplanted the plants near the fronts of two of the raised beds. They’ve done extraordinarily well – I’ve cut numerous bunches, which only encourages branching and more flowers. I expect to have zinnias until the frost unless the deer eat them.  Some of the plants are protected with a chicken wire cage, but the other bunch, in front of the tomatoes which have grown over my head against the back fence, are not covered.  I guess if I had a choice I'd tell the deer to eat those zinnias and leave my veggies alone!

My mother-in-law (see the “Gordon, Stop the Car!” entry on 6/21/10) has been painting flowers for weeks, in preparation for a sale at church. We made packaged sets of flower notecards, and my brother-in-law matted some of the paintings for sale. Paul helped set up a canopy tent and sat with her during the sale, which was quite successful. Apparently she’s turning in more than $200 to support her church. I bought one of her paintings – of zinnias!

Choosing an Outfit

A recent blessing was pulling clothes out of my closet, searching for just the right combination for a Christmas outfit.  I was looking for exactly the right mix of clothes that would be a) warm enough, b) not too warm, c) festive, d) comfortable, and d) modest.  I settled on a nearly floor length black skirt and a red jacket over a sleeveless black top.  I'm going to wear a locket with enameled red and green designs that I remember my father-in-law giving to my mother-in-law the year our daughter was born - inside is a sweet picture of our one month old daughter dressed in her first red Christmas dress. Barbara gave the locket to me a few years ago, thinking I might enjoy it.  When I told my coworker about my outfit to wear to the prison for our Christmas celebration next week, we both chuckled.  Who would have thought I'd so carefully pick clothing to wear inside a prison!?!

But seriously - we're going to set aside our typical Bible Study, and celebrate Christmas with the guys.  The volunteers are going to dress up - like we would for Christmas Eve services (no jeans and T-shirts on this night!)  Paul's even searching for just the right Christmas necktie.  We'll be celebrating Holy Commuion, served by our volunteer who was ordained as an Elder in the United Methodist Church this year, and is no longer restricted as to where she can serve Communion.  She's bringing a service of lessons and carols, so we'll read the Christmas story from the Scriptures and sing Christmas carols.  I have some mini candycanes to distribute along with a poem about the symbolism behind the colors and the stripes. 

 Our preparations for celebrating Christmas in the prison make me examine my preparations for celebrating the holy day in my own family.  Will I make careful choices about what to wear, what to eat, what to do?  Those choices determine the blessings I'll receive for Christmas this year.

This Little Light of Mine

I’ve been blessed these last two years to regularly go into the Auburn Correctional Facility most Tuesday nights to help with a Bible Study called Fully Alive. I serve with a great group of volunteers and during this time I’ve come to realize that this ministry is not at all about what we do for the guys, but everything about what we do with them. I generally take my guitar and help to lead the music during our opening praise and worship time. Often I select a song based on what had been shared in our opening prayers. These guys live at a raw level and their prayers are unlike what I hear at my church on the outside! They pray for themselves, for one another, and for their families on the outside – not many mention friends, who’ve largely deserted them. If we ask for prayers for a family or church member, they’re sure to ask the outcome a few weeks later. Frequently one or two of the men will ask to share a song and it is such a privilege to worship with them – the others listen attentively and respectfully, often beating in time to the music on their knee or the pews.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve been there – the last time was during a four day revival planned by the Protestant Chaplain. Volunteers were invited to attend each night, and Paul and I went on Sunday and heard a powerful message from a young man who just so happens to be the RA for Jason’s dorm at Wells College! Wow! On Tuesday, most of our regular volunteers were there, and two of us exchanged amused looks while the director of the inmate’s choir led the song, “This Little Light of Mine.” The choir uses that typical Black "call and repeat" style of music and while I don’t pretend to be able to do it myself – too much WASP in me – I do enjoy it. This time, Chris called out verses for the church to sing – replacing “Walk it around the neighborhood,” with “All around the yard, I'm going to let it shine!” and “In the mess hall, I'm going to let it shine!” While it struck me in a very funny way, at the same time, it was a strong witness to me.

The guys realize, on a very elementary level, that God has called them to a purpose even while living in a very dark place like a maximum security prison. Do I realize my calling on the same level as they do? It’s easy to be a Christian while doing good works like visiting prisoners. But do I let my light shine at my place of employment? Within my circle of friends and family? At my church? While out and about in my community?Certainly not as much as I could, not as consistently as I should.

Paul attended the closing night of the revival and I was surprised when he arrived home early. They had been told there was a disturbance going on in the yard, and the volunteers were hustled out through the chaplain’s office and back entrance instead of the typical walk through the side of the yard. The next day I had an email from the chaplain saying that due to extreme violence in the yard, the prison was in lock down and programs were cancelled for a week, not to resume until after the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. My heart sank. We’d miss Bible Study with the guys the next week. They’d be in their cells 24/7, eating bag meals, and not participating in any programs or work. The COs would likely be searching cells for weapons, and tensions on all sides would be high. I wonder how sanity can be maintained in that atmosphere whether one is an inmate or a guard? I also thanked God that “our” guys had been safely inside the chapel during the disturbance, not out in the yard, where it’s all too easy to pulled into the violence. 

So my blessing is being able to serve with these guys and learning with them how to let my light shine.

Matthew 5:16 “In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your father in heaven.”