Just Like Paul and Silas
Jun. 30th, 2010 03:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dedalus_1947“About midnight, while Paul and Silas
were praying and singing hymns to God,
and the other prisoners listened,
there was suddenly such a severe earthquake
that the foundations of the jail shook,
and all the doors flew open,
and the chains of all the imprisoned were pulled loose.”
(Acts 16: 24-27)
As Thomas, the assistant chaplain, and I walked up the ramp to the second floor of the jail, I glanced at the pamphlet we were using that night. It was lesson # 22, in a series called “Finding the Way in Jail”. On the four previous occasions I accompanied Thomas in using these pamphlets with inmates, we had actually covered the material only once – and that was when Justin, a fellow volunteer, led the session (see Abandon All Hope). Thomas never seemed to consider the contents of these pamphlets as the primary mission of the prayer groups he led. He used them as prompts or openers for wide-ranging, group discussions. As Thomas went to speak to the guard on duty about releasing the inmates to join us, I placed a pamphlet on each plastic chair. The title of this lesson was called, Facing Our Fears.
“I wonder if we’ll actually read this tonight?” I muttered softly. I hadn’t reviewed the pamphlet myself, so I didn’t know what fears would be covered. “I bet we never read it,” I concluded.
Only 10 men appeared at the entrance to the outdoor dayroom. Thomas liked using the second floor patio because of the fresh air and the open sky that was visible through the steel enforced, chain-linked covering. However tonight, the outside temperature was gradually dropping, and I feared it would be too cold. I’d brought a sweater for warmth, but the inmates only wore their thin, pajama-like tunics. Thomas insisted it would be fine, and he assured me that the men preferred being outside in the fresh air than in an enclosed room. This would be the smallest and most diverse group I’d worked with: 1 Asian, 1 African-American, 1 Anglo-American, 1 South American, and 6 Mexican-Americans. Three of them had been in the session from the week before, when we discussed Mother’s Day and Juan sang his hip-hop composition (see Can You See My Eyes). Thomas began the session with his standard introduction and a question.
“Why don’t you tell us your name and your astrological sign?” he asked that evening.
Once each man responded, Thomas opened with a prayer and then asked if anyone wanted to add his own prayer or a personal intention. Each person did, and we went around the circle again. This time the men beseeched God to protect and watch over their wives, girlfriends, and children. They prayed that their next court appearance would be better than the last, and they thanked God for helping them get through one more day. Just when I thought Thomas would actually pick up the pamphlet and ask someone to begin reading, he took another detour.
“When we were here last week,” he said, “we talked about our mothers and Mother’s Day. I was wondering how your weekends went? Did you see your mothers? Did they visit?”
Nelson, the young, Guatemalan inmate serving 4 to 6 years for DUI-manslaughter spoke up immediately. I remembered him from last week, because of his tragic and compelling story.
“My mother came to visit me on Saturday and Sunday,” he began. “She’s great. She works hard and is always positive about life. She worked to send all of her children to college, except for me. I’m the youngest of six children, and I was the most stubborn. I didn’t finish the university. I worked all my life and I dropped out of school with a year left for my degree. I thought it was better to make money than getting a college education, and my mother accepted that. She was always forgiving and positive about everything. She still tells me I’m going to get out of jail soon. She tells me that every time I see her. It makes me mad, you know, because she’s not being realistic. She doesn’t mean I’ll be out in 4 to 6 years – she really believes I could get out tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day. Her optimism drives me crazy,” he stated emphatically, “it makes no sense!” Suddenly his comments about his mother stopped, and he went off in a completely new direction.
“I know I did wrong,” he said, bitterly. “I’m paying the price for taking a man’s life. I know this is God’s will. I think He wants me to learn something, or see something, from all this. I know my wife needs to be more independent and learn to manage without me. I’m just having trouble accepting it, you know? I get sad when I think of my little daughter, and then I get mad because I won’t see her grow up. I can’t believe this is all happening to me. I just made ONE mistake! I never believed I was really going to jail for ONE mistake – just ONE. I had no prior record or arrests. I had a good job, a house, and a wife and three kids. I never thought they’d send me to prison. I spent everything I owned on lawyers. I hired three of them until I found one that was any good. The first one got the charges reduced to 15 years, the second one to 10 years, and the last lawyer finally got them down to second-degree manslaughter with 4 to 6 years”.
“That’s not bad, bro,” one of the new guys said, enthusiastically, trying to cheer him up. “With good time, you’ll be walking out of here in 3 to 4 years”.
“I know, I know,” Nelson said, impatiently. “I know I can do the time. I just wish I knew what happened. You see I don’t remember anything about the accident. I remember arguing with my wife, going to the bar, having two drinks, and meeting a girl. That’s all. I blacked out after that”.
Nelson then told a tortured tale of denial, based on police and medical reports, prosecution photographs, physical evidence, and witness statements. He had awakened the next morning in a hospital bed with bruises on his chest, and some soreness in his legs. The police told him that he had been in a head-on collision with another vehicle, while driving the wrong way in the carpool lane of a freeway at 4 o’clock in the morning. A drug test revealed that he had a .19 alcohol level, or the equivalent of 10 drinks, with traces of cocaine and marijuana in his system. He was shown a gory picture of the driver of the other vehicle, who died from head and body trauma, and he was informed that two passengers, the mother and sister of the deceased, had also suffered injuries. However, despite all this compelling evidence against him, he was more interested in discussing the anomalies and discrepancies he found with these events. Where did the drugs come from? How could he have consumed so much? His home was only four blocks from the bar, so why was he on the freeway, heading in the opposite direction? How could he have survived a head-on collision, supposedly traveling at 100 mph, and suffered no physical injuries?
“I can’t believe I did it!” he resumed. “I just wish I knew what happened. Maybe then I could believe it was my fault, and accept the price I’m paying for ONE mistake”. He shook his head in bewilderment and remained silent. He had spoken for a long time, and, except for one encouraging comment, no one said a word. I was speechless, trying to reconcile his contradictory statements. Was he questioning or accepting his guilt and responsibility in this matter? Did he drive the car, while under the influence of drugs, or was he a victim of a police conspiracy? Thankfully, Thomas broke the silence by picking up a loose strand in Nelson’s monologue.
“I know what it feels like to blackout from drinking,” Thomas said, quietly. “I never knew what I’d done or where I’d been. You know, I mentioned last week that I’m in Alcoholics Anonymous. I’ve been sober now for 5 years. I didn’t know why I drank so much. At first I drank to feel comfortable in social situations, and to fit in with my friends who drank. Then I started drinking by myself. The trouble was I didn’t have just a few drinks to feel good - I drank a whole bottle, until I passed out. I’d drink one of those half gallon bottles you buy at Costco, and then I’d wake up on the floor, or in a bed, never knowing how I got there. I had to call people on the phone the next day to find out what I had done. I’d always start off by apologizing for what I might have said and done, and then I’d ask them where I left my car, what I said, and what I’d done? I finally came to the point that I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a helpless drunk. ‘What are you doing to yourself?’ I screamed at the mirror. ‘You can’t live this way! This is not a life! You need help!’ That’s when I joined AA and I’ve been sober for five years. I had to admit that I was an addict, who needed help. Yet even though I’m sober, it’s still tough. I can only handle one day at a time. I work at getting through one day, and that’s good. I get through another one, and that’s good, but I can only do it with the help of God and my friends. The only friends I have now I met at AA meetings. Once I stopped drinking, my former friends didn’t want me around. It seemed the only people who accepted me for myself were other alcoholics. In fact that’s how I came to volunteer at the jail. I met Gavin, the Chaplain, in my AA group. Once we got to know each other, he suggested I come to visit and work with the inmates. He thought I might be helpful. Although I have to tell you, I learn more from you, your stories, and your advice to one another, than anything I could say”.
Thomas paused, as though giving his words a chance to sink in. For a moment I thought he was going to segue to the pamphlet on Facing Our Fears, when one of the young, Mexican-American inmates, named Edgar, raised his hand to speak.
“Can I give testimony right now?” he asked, when Thomas recognized him.
“Sure, go ahead,” Thomas replied.
“Well,” Edgar began, “I was thinking about what you and Nelson said. You saw yourself in the mirror as a drunk and an addict, and Nelson can’t remember what he did, so he can’t accept his sentence. That reminded me of what happened to me, and how I found God. You see I used to gangbang a lot. I thought I was really tough and really bad. I was hard, you know? I didn’t care about nothing, and nothing affected me. When people told me to do something, I would always do the opposite. I drove my mother and father crazy. They loved me, you know, but I didn’t respect them, and never did what they said. Well, one Sunday I decided to go to church. My parents were really shocked, but it wasn’t like I didn’t like church or God, you know? I just didn’t like being told when I had to go. When I walked into the church, I felt really strange, you know. I mean, I was dressed like I always dress, but people were looking at me funny. They thought I looked like a gangster. I felt really self-conscious about my pants, my shirt, and my tattoos, but I just let it pass. I stayed in that church anyway. There was this preacher there, and man, he was really on fire, you know. He was calling out to the people, challenging them. It was like he was talking right to you. I mean he wasn’t talking to me. He didn’t know me, but he was looking in my direction. I thought he was looking right into me and that he knew what I was thinking.
‘Don’t look away!’ the preacher cried. ‘Yeah, you, I’m talking to you,’ he said, looking right at me. ‘God wants you. He loves you. He is calling you by name. He knows you’re a sinner, and he knows all the evil and violent things you’ve done, but he loves you and forgives you. All you have to do is come forward and accept him’.
“He was talking to everyone, you know, but it was like he was only speaking to me. I wanted to go up there, but I was embarrassed, you know. My clothes, my appearance – I didn’t want to do it. Then, I don’t know what happened, you know, but I found myself in front of the altar. The preacher was there, along with these two guys by his side. They laid their hands on me and called on the Spirit of God to come down on me. And then I felt it, you know. I felt like everything I had done until that moment didn’t matter. That God loved me, no matter what. I felt powerful with so much love, and I said, ‘Take me Lord. Let your will be done with me, Lord. I’m a sinner, Lord, and I only want your love.’ I was filled with the Spirit. I told Him I was ready to do anything; that I’d accept anything for Him. And man, He let me have it! He didn’t waste any time. Two days after I accepted God, my whole life was turned upside down. It started with a SWAT team showing up at 3 a.m. to search our house for weapons. They had my whole family outside while they searched the house. My father was only wearing a nightshirt and my mother had on a slip. It was freezing at that time of the morning, and we were out there a long time. They didn’t find anything, but the next day I had to talk to detectives who were investigating an armed robbery by two men. They showed me the pictures from the surveillance camera, but I said, ‘No man, that ain’t me! I wasn’t there.’ They turned me loose, but they charged me later with robbery and three counts of street gang activities. It turns out a friend of mine committed the robbery and he found out I was sleeping with his girl friend. I think the girl told him about me, to get even with him, for hitting her. So when he was caught and charged for the robbery, he saw a way of getting back at me. He testified that I was his accomplice. But that wasn’t the only thing they charged me with. They had me for other criminal street gang activities and making threats of physical violence. Man, they even had me on tape! They had bugged a phone conversation I had with friends, where I said I wanted to kill some fellows. I didn’t mean it that way, but I said it, and they had it on tape. They also bugged my cell phone when I admitted doing some other things. My lawyer is still plea-bargaining on the charges so I haven’t been sentenced yet. But you know, I haven’t lost my faith! I still have the Spirit when God touched me, you know. I realized that this was God’s way of getting my attention. I always thought I was too smart and too cool to do serious time in prison. God is showing me the way. I ain’t even mad with the girl who told my friend I slept with her. You know, I did lots of bad things that I was never busted for. This was just God’s plan for me. I just needed to see it. I take it one day at a time, you know, and I pray. There’s a group of guys in the dorm, you know. We get together to pray or read the bible. That really helps me get through the day, and it makes me happy. I know I’ll get out of here someday, and I’ll be ready then. I think I may do some preaching when I get out, you know? Try to help other gang bangers find God, like I did”.
Sunset was falling as Edgar finished speaking, and the automatic lights kicked on. As I’d feared, the outside temperature plummeted, and the inmates started tucking their arms into their t-shirts and blue tunics for warmth, but no one complained. The men who didn’t speak would occasionally look up and follow the flight of birds in the darkening sky. We never got around to reading or discussing the pamphlet, because someone always had something else to say or add to the tales of hope and woe we heard that night. Nelson spoke up again, repeating his frustrations at not knowing the details of his crime and the unfairness of his sentence for ONLY one bad decision. The last person to say something was Miguel, a big, burly fellow who sat next to Edgar and hadn’t said a word all night.
“Do your time, man,” he said, turning to look straight at Nelson in the fading light. “You accepted the plea bargain, so serve the time. Six years is nothing,” he added, harshly. “At least you know you’re getting out. I’m serving three consecutive life sentences for attempted homicide. I didn’t kill anybody, but I was planning to. I’m going to be here for a long, long time. I have a wife and a baby girl at home who I’ll never know,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “At least you’ll see your little girl eventually. You sound mixed up. You went to the bar, you drank, and you blacked out. You’ve got to admit that you fucked up, and let it go, man. God doesn’t hold grudges, and you’ve got to move on. It’s what you do here each day now that counts. Do what Edgar and Thomas said. Take it one day at a time. Get together with friends, support each other, pray, but don’t lose hope. You’ve got to keep the faith, brother. One day you’ll be released and you’ll see your little girl. Your mother’s right when she tells you that. It could be tomorrow, or it could be in four years, but you’re getting out. You just need to wake up man, and realize that you’re free right now. You’re free to make better choices, and to live each day, one day at a time. Be free, brother.”
After services with the inmates, the volunteers and assistant chaplains reassemble with Gavin in the Chaplain’s Office before leaving the jail. Officially it is our “debriefing” of the evening’s activities, and time to say a concluding prayer. I’ve come to believe that it’s really an excuse to come together in a circle, support each other, and reaffirm what we accomplish in this place of confinement. That evening I confessed to being irritated about never getting around to reading the Facing Our Fears pamphlet. Yet I also realized that we accomplished something more than imparting a prescribed lesson, or giving good advice. I didn’t think reading about the fears that inmates face in prison would have been as effective as listening to their own failings and denials. Thomas created a safe and comforting space where inmates could come together to help each other get through one more day, and one more night. We were simply witnesses who got out of the way and let God work through these men. It was as if for a short period of time, under the cool, darkening skies of heaven, they were set free – free to see, free to hear, and free to choose.
God's Grace
Date: 2010-06-30 10:44 pm (UTC)Re: God's Grace
Date: 2010-07-01 06:07 am (UTC)I'll pray for your step-son.
TD
no subject
Date: 2010-07-04 08:18 pm (UTC)TRH
Subtle Suggestions
Date: 2010-07-05 06:52 am (UTC)I love your pointed suggestions about my book. I'm still practicing.
TD