Struggle

At our last meeting, Jim made the statement, "as soon as I hear a man say he is struggling, I know he hasn't gotten to the point that AA calls accepting one can only survive with the help of one's higher power." That brings a light to bear on what I see as a conflict. We talk a lot about an inmate (or civilian) reaching a point where he sees that he cannot go on any longer in the self-centeredness that results in criminal behavior. Yes, he must surrender to the knowledge that he is helpless alone, but there still remains a lot of work to be done, a lot of deeply embedded mental process and attitude and behavior to un-habituate, to coin a word. And that is a struggle. So the man has to relax and surrender to that knowledge, but at the same time, he must be vigilant and ready to labor to change himself.
I don't think it wise to leave the AA statement as the statement for our group. So why did I?

Sitting with Scripture

I send out a 25 word prayer every Monday for church secretaries to use for the bulletin each prepares for Sunday. Today, I sat with the Gospel in which Jesus says not to divorce (Mark 10:11). I sat with that reading for quite a while. My discussion group had just this week discussed the progress of the Episcopal Church's attitude and canons toward divorce over the last 100 years.* In my own nuclear family, my baby sister is twice divorced (his infidelity for #1 and his drug use for #2) and my brother just told us that his wife of 35 years divorced him and he did not contest it. Divorce is, for me, a painful subject, as it marks the end of a blessing, officially recognizes a failure.

What can I say? Jesus says not to divorce. It is clear and concise. And yet I work with men who are abusive and who have been and should be removed from their wives' lives. I deal with men who are not recovering from their addictions; to me they seem incapable of being of one flesh with anyone else. Yet my church says they must be bound into one flesh with their wives for all of life. (Not all of these men of whom I speak are in prison.) Was Jesus wrong? How can I, a mere individual decide what is right? Why did the church's attitude toward divorce evolve with no big hullabaloo? How am I expected to behave towards these men? How does what I know about them inform my opinions about divorce? How would I preach on October 4?

I finally grew as I sat with this scripture to understand that I am not called to decide. After all, what difference does my opinion make when it comes to talking to the men about their own behaviors, their addictions, their own excuse making? Aren't I getting distracted from ministering to them by making judgments? Yesterday's Gospel was "If thy foot causes thee to stumble, cut it off ...better to enter heaven lame than go to hell."

My prayer was for the perpetrators as well as victims of domestic violence. I was able to write a prayer without judging. But it took a lot of work. And I have not decided whether to grasp the tiger's tail or to wuss out and preach about "Let the little children come unto me. (Mark 10:14). I guess I'll have to sit with that reading some more.




*(according to my memory of Episcopal Church USA history)Prior to 1808, followed the English Church Law; 1808 no remarriage after a divorce; 1877 exception for the 'innocent party' if divorce is for adultery or for any reason after the death of the divorced spouse; 1904 added civil annulment ; 1931 allowed bishops to make annulments; 1973 allowed remarriage after any divorce at the discretion of the priest with permission of the bishop. As recently as 1975, priests who got divorced were asked to leave parochial ministry.

ministry or mission?

I was challenged last week by an acquaintance who asked me how I was carrying the Word to those in prison. I was not very eloquent, stumbling as I tried to explain that I am moved to offer a presence, reflective listening and comradeship to those in prison; to talk about how the Spirit is working in my life to bring me to them as a friend, not as a preacher or prophet. I must have sounded judgmental as I replied, because he became dismissive of my reasons and efficacy.

It hurt, as I am still struggling with my own self-esteem issues. Jim wisely has reminded me that it is instructive and inspirational to allow the inmates to watch and participate in my journey, as long as the group sessions do not become therapy for me instead of them. We are trying to teach, show and model behavior so that they can leave the behaviors and attitudes and habits of thought that got them here and pick up less destructive and hurtful ways for use when they are released.

But am I also supposed to bring them to Christ? Am I different from the chaplain who sits with the sick and dying to bring God's comfort to them? No one has ever called me to task for not trying to convert souls in the hospital. No one challenges the "Doctors Without Borders" staff to count the souls they have saved. Why is the prison minister expected to do more? Be different?

I read C.S.Lewis' Mere Christianity again this weekend. He was a great explainer, avoiding the pitfalls of instruction and instead having a beneficial conversation. His opinions are strong, leaning far left at times, far right at others, but very persuasive. I am glad I referred the men to the first chapter, in which he talks about innate knowledge of right and wrong. (Later, he claims that innate knowledge is the only proof we have of God's existence.) But that awareness of right and wrong echoes throughout my relationship with the inmates. We joke that a lot of what got them into trouble, "seemed like a good idea at the time." But they all agree that a sane person (and there are some sociopaths in the general population) really does know right from wrong. It is the problem of painting oneself into a corner so that all the choices that seem available are wrong that they wrestle with. Or loss of self control. The prison system offers them anger management and Alcohol and Addiction therapy. That is part of the correctional process, I think. We seem to be alone in discussing choices and the habit of doing right. On a par, as equals in the discussion. It sometimes seems like the 'victim of circumstances' argument versus the 'sinners seeking redemption' that echoes through all of Lewis' work.

I pray "Holy Spirit, may the words from my mouth and the thoughts from my heart be acceptable to you. (GWT©)" And then I add, "and when they aren't please help me."

Pitfalls

Jim started the discussion today by asking what a soon-to-be-paroled inmate was doing to keep from re offending or getting a violation. "I am just following my plan," he said. He has laid out his plan: AA, NA, avoiding friends and family who are using, obeying the rules and "just plodding ahead." Jim said that was a 'pat' answer. Somehow, we moved into what upsets us, and he mentioned his son. The conversation moved from the inmate to Jim. The group used all of our tools to help him go through the steps to analyze why he continued to enable his son's immaturity. (I won't go into details except that he had mentioned to me that his son got a parking ticket while driving Jim's car.) We talked at length with him, and he even got a little uncomfortable, which he has told me is a sign of new territory. One of the things Jim said was that he knows where his pitfalls are, but with his son, he steps into them anyway. That resonated with me. I suppose Jim and I are not alone; we all mostly know where our pitfalls are. At any rate, Jim got some good advice from one of the men, to decide within himself to give his son the financial help he asks for BEFORE he asks. Then it is a gift, and the anger, guilt and resentment don't attach. (Good advice, but hard to execute.) We eventually got back to the inmate in question, but he stayed with his stolid answers. In all, it was a solid meeting.

We look forward to the return of "Doc" who is in cubicle detention, leaving only for meals and worship for taking a swing at a dorm-mate's lamp which was keeping him awake. He could have gone to the box, but since he had been provoked, and since he hit the lamp, not the offensive inmate, he stayed out. We also hope to see another man who had to take an ACT course, which prevents him from coming to our group.

Outside in the yard, there is a beautiful perfectly formed conical maple tree. As we talked, I could see a group of 5 men gather under the tree, talking animatedly. It was an idyllic summer scene, save for the razor wire I was looking through. After the meeting I said as much to one of the men. He looked at me and said, "After a while, you stop seeing the razor wire and start seeing the summer."

Why is it so hard?

It took me 40 years to come to the point of wanting to visit and work with prisoners enough to actually do it. During that time, there were plenty of opportunities, albeit no one invited me. What was my hesitation? What blocked me from the call? Part of it was that I was full of my own problems. But I still am plagued by those issues. Part was the attitude of, "Let someone else do it." Part was the problem of out of sight out of mind. And then there was the inertia; maybe if I waited long enough there wouldn't be any need to do it. When I started, it was one invitation that did it, but it was also that I had become the person who could accept that invitation. Now that I am indeed making visits to the jails and the prisons, now that I am lending strength to families as the visit, and acting as a sounding post for those released to parole or probation, I can't understand what took me so long. I have met some wonderful volunteers, some who have been making weekly visits for as much as 40 years, some who make one visit a month. I have met some fascinating people in the system, too.

As we were discussing the A.A. principle that a person will not begin to change until their situation becomes too painful to NOT change, one of the inmates at Groveland said, "When I first was sentenced, I spent 10 years as the same person I had been when I committed my crime. I went to church and took all the courses they required because I knew it would go into my Parole file. In the yard I was the guy nobody messed with. And I went to "the Box" several times. But I didn't start to change inside until I got to the point that it was too much work to stay the biggest and baddest guy in the barracks. Something had to change. And it wasn't gonna be the prison system. That left it up to me." We went on to talk about how the "lifers" watch the newcomers, some "lifers" step forward to help them, others to recruit them into the prison lifestyle. Others still stand off and let it be. I began to think not only of that microcosm, but also about my own behaviors and attitudes. Don't we "lifers" fall into those three categories? Some of us are involved in the culture in which we find ourselves; we work, we strive to succeed and we teach others, our children and those we influence how to do the same. Some of us are rescuer types, striving to make the world a better place as we decide better, heroes or lawmen. Others are content to stand off to the side, allowing others the freedom to act, ready to guide if asked, but not volunteering.

Community

I wonder about how it feels to be cut off from your usual circle. The fence not only keeps the prisoner in, but slices across the relationships he has had his entire life. Friday a prisoner told me: My family told me not to bother them or expect anything from them during prison or after. How did that hit him? How did it effect his actions? I asked them how they keep from becoming negative and pessimistic. They all answered about using the time in prison to work on themselves, except for him. He talked about drifting, about wondering what was to become of him. He has turned to religion, but has become a follower of a charismatic preacher, who does not ask questions but gives answers.

I think that that is what Prison Ministry is starting to become for me, a forum to ask questions and sincerely and openly listen to the answers; to reflect the answers back and to reflect on them. And that is also beginning to be my reward, as well. In asking the questions, I open my self to be asked. In listening to the answers, I am given other ears to listen. And in reflecting, I see the waves and peeled silver of the mirror which is myself that I hold up to them.

What is success?

I am competitive. I want to be successful. Prison ministry resists giving me a feeling of success, of "winning." I need a new parameter. I need to describe my reasons for doing this in terms that don't require a measurement.
Last Monday I was in North Carolina. I missed my visit to the Wyoming NY State Facility even while I was visiting my father in his retirement community. I began to compare the visit I was doing to the prison visit I was missing. Perhaps that is the beginning of my new approach to valuing the visits I make.