It’s not often that we think of prisons as holy spaces, but I’m struck by the number of persons on the holier side of history who have spent years of their lives in chains or behind bars. In the Hebrew Bible there were people like Joseph, Jeremiah, Daniel and others, and in the New Testament, there were John the Baptist and many of Jesus’s disciples, most notably Paul, who wrote many of his letters from there. And throughout the centuries there have been countless numbers of people in prisons for their faith, like John Bunyan, John Huss, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Alexandr Solzhenitsyn, Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King, and many others. All of which has led people of faith to take a special interest in all who are imprisoned. While many in our prisons and penitentiaries today are of course guilty of crimes of all kinds, their cells nevertheless become places of suffering, isolation and extreme emotional stress that should concern all of us.
What should be our response when in our land of the free we have an astonishing 2.3 million people behind bars, the largest number of people in prison of any country in the world, including China.
In the Hebrew Bible there is a model for a safe place for offenders known as cities of refuge. They were ordinary cities in every respect except in these cities people could find refuge who felt they were in danger of being lynched for a crime, as an act of revenge, if they believed they were innocent, or had unintentionally harmed or killed someone. There they were offered sanctuary in communities where they could live responsible and more or less normal lives. My dream would be to have every community, every congregation, become a kind of city of refuge, not for coddling wrongdoers, but for mentoring them, holding them accountable, and helping them to become responsible and productive fellow citizens.
Thanks, Harvey, for reminding us of cities of refuge extending to radical hospitality rooted in scripture and tradition, which is our story—delivered from isolation and bondage, sought out in loneliness and need, and receiving comfort and care through inclusion in the church. In EXCLUSION AND EMBRACE, Miroslav Volf reflected on this practice theologically in the Balkans as "God's reception of hostile humanity into divine communion is model for how human beings should relate to the other." - Your Kingdom come . . .
ReplyDeleteAs a Christian worker/volunteer at Augusta Correctional Center, I see genuine believers living and serving others in prison. These are the truly "reformed" - the supposed goal of any correctional facility. But as is well known by Christians of some years, we struggle against the flesh, the world, and the devil. We stumble and fall, and if we then look to the greatest giver of grace we are helped to our feet again.
ReplyDeleteWell, I too want to see ex-offenders cared for in a Christian-based program in which material provision and regular mentorship combine to ensure the development of a productive citizen. Ex-offenders probably struggle even more with their old nature than those of us who have never lived a criminal lifestyle. The Church would certainly be the "light and salt" if engaged in this kind of ministry. I believe Harrisonburg would be an ideal place due to the availability of jobs and large number of local churches from which to recruit mentors and other resources.
If interested, please contact Jon 209-0046. I'd gladly work with Harvey and others to launch this kind ministry.