St. Mary’s Jail and Prison Ministry: Update

Contributed by the Rev. Tom English, Deacon

June, 2005

For me the Day of Pentecost came early, or I should say the days of Pentecost came early.  It was about 3 months ago that I began a series of sessions with an unusually insightful and articulate inmate at the Lane County Jail.  His name is Tucker.  He will turn 23 years old on July 24th.  We met for about an hour and a half each week in the Rite of Reconciliation of a Penitent for six weeks as he eloquently poured forth the stories that framed the pictures of his life: stories of childhood poverty, neglect, abuse, abandonment, betrayal and some very bad decisions. But an early childhood also filled with love and laughter and an amazing awareness by a little boy of Jesus Christ.   In those young years he possessed what seems a truly miraculous resilience. Even in the worst of situations, this child, Tucker, desperately looked for a silver lining. Though fearful, he risked everything again and again for the love he craved.  He amazed his family and their friends with his bold statements about God and Jesus.  “Who is this child?” they would exclaim.

Poverty required that his family move often going where the jobs were and sometimes requiring Mom and Dad to split up, leaving Tucker and his siblings to their own devices.   The stories took place in many areas of Oregon over nineteen years: Pleasant Hill, Roseburg, Burns, Pendleton, Afghanistan, Iraq, and Eugene. In Pleasant Hill the family had a large house on a sprawling rural property.  One day, Tucker decided that he and his siblings could live well in the forest, so packing provisions and a big knife they set out in to that wilderness somewhere off Rattlesnake Road to fend for themselves. When Dad returned home and found no one, he panicked.  When he finally found the children he was so grateful he could hardly be too stern. It was in Roseburg that at about age 8, Tucker was abused by a church youth leader and it was in Roseburg that he lost his relationship with Jesus.  It was in Pendleton, where although his school attendance was spotty, a few of his teacher saw through the tough-guy façade recognizing a quick and robust intellect.  Those few encouraged him and he got his GED.  And it was in Pendleton that the trouble intensified and Tucker knew, for his own sake, that he had to get out of town.  He joined the Army and served honorably in both Afghanistan and Iraq.

It was in Eugene, on his return from service that troubles returned. He was diagnosed post traumatic syndrome, but before he could get treatment, he got into trouble with alcohol, a woman and the law.  Tucker and two other young adults engaged is some very emotionally risky sexual behavior.

Each of those sessions of reconciliation ended with the declaration of forgiveness:

“Our Lord Jesus Christ, who offered himself to be sacrificed for us to the Father, forgives your sins by the grace of the Holy Spirit.” (BOCP pg. 448)

And each time Tucker wept. More than once I had to call a “time out” from the stories because we were both just too poured out.  But each time the Holy Spirit renewed us so that healing could begin and we were strengthened to bear the bitter-sweet pain of yet another story on another day and then be healed by it.

  I became very aware that this was not just about another tragic life:  Jesus had walked through the locked doors of our small room at the Lane County Jail.  He breathed on us and we were alight with the Spirit. We were clothed from the power on High. This is about every tragic life.

Tucker insists on his innocence, and although he freely admits to sin and bad behavior for which he asked forgiveness, he is very clear that he didn’t commit the acts for which he was charged.  His lawyer and the District Attorney negotiated a plea bargain—a deal---which provided considerably less time in prison than what he might receive had the case gone to trial.   They were doing their job.  The circumstances of the case were such that going to trial was a high risk.  I was in the courtroom with Tucker on the day he was confronted with the bargain. Pale as a ghost, sick to his stomach, and sobbing he agonized over what to do.  All the smart heads counseled that taking the deal was the practical thing to do.  It presented a favorable calculation of time against the risk of going to trial and serving maybe ten years or more in prison.  But it was not the right thing to do or the just thing to do and Tucker knew it.  We prayed about it and finally moving from what is right to what is practical, he took the deal, but only after the court allowed him to plead “no contest” instead of guilty.

In today’s criminal justice system the ideal of justice has been violated by fear and trivialized by expediency.   The questions today deal with process: did the defendant get his rights, did the process follow the procedures; not does our system change behavior, restore victims or make our communities safer.

The prophet Mica describes the ideal:

“He hath shown thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to

Do Justice,

Love Mercy, and to

Walk numbly with your God.” (Mica 6:8)                 

About two weeks ago Tucker was sent off to Coffee Creek Correctional Facility in Wilsonville for assessment and eventual placement in one of our state facilities for as long as up to 4 years.  At St. Mary’s, we have included Tucker in our Prayers of the People for several months and we will to continue that practice in the future for as long as it takes.  

Last week I received the following letter from Tucker:

Dear Deacon Tom,

I sure do miss seeing you every week; life is lonelier without your presence and encouragement.  The Lord blessed me when he introduced us. 

So many times when we were talking I was convinced that you would stop coming to see me or that you would change your opinion of me--- the stories I shared with you during confession---each time I left the room after us talking I thought that “he won’t be back,” and then when I took “the deal,” I thought for sure that you would write me off.  The truth is, I half wanted you to.  If you had, my beliefs about this world would have been reinforced rather than torn down, and that would have been so much easier.  But every time you came back to talk with to me again, you defeated my defenses and each time it was harder to put them back up.

I had created those walls to keep people out so that they could not hurt me.  But the down side was that those same walls kept me imprisoned.

I am not out of the woods yet and there is still a lot of rebuilding to be done but because you cared and you shared the Holy Spirit in you with me, the hardest part is behind.

You know when I first was put in jail I was going to kill myself.  I had multiple plans to do just that.  The reason wasn’t because of jail itself or even the prospect of 100-300 months looming over my head, all of that I could handle without a care; it was the nature of the charge, it was making me something I wasn’t and hated more than anything.  Had I been facing any other charge, I would have just shrugged it off and continued on my wayward path without a second thought.

But because the charge was so devastating it forced me into solitude, I was able to reflect upon myself for the first time in years.  I cleared out a lot of the false bravado and tough guy mentality but was lacking what I needed to fill the void.

That is where you came in; you showed me the Lord’s love and gave me an ample helping of your own.  I doubted you, but you kept coming even when I let my fears get the best of me and took the deal.  You showed me what the Lord meant by unconditional, and I will always be grateful.  Especially when everything seemed to look so bad, and I was the only one professing my innocence, you believed in me and that will forever stay with me.

Thank you for everything,

Tucker quite rightly credits the Lord and the Holy Spirit for his reconnection to God, but it was St. Mary's Jail/Prison Ministry and the Diocesan Prison Ministry Commission that provided the opportunity for him to hear that "still small voice."  The gift to me continues to be his friendship and his exceptional ability to relate and analyze his spiritual journey in such a way that I am able to clearly discern in him the face in Christ.  An unanticipated gift to Tucker continues to be the rallying of his family in visible and articulate support of him, no matter what.

No inmate and I have seen has been so articulate and so perceptive, but there is the same Christ in all of them! Through Tucker the Holy Spirit has inspired and rekindled my own spirit for a ministry in a place that all too often succumbs to the grey specter that haunts our criminal justice system.  Deep down many feel what some openly say—“that nothing works.”  That despite decades of study and debate, we are no closer to deterrence than we ever were, and/or, that more “humane” forms of treatment are mere masquerades concealing a descent into a Kafkaesque bureaucracy where offenders suffer a slow and silent suffocation of the soul.  Tucker is living proof that even in dark locked spaces Jesus still walks through walls.

There is another version of the Pentecost gospel lesson which comes from the book: The Message: the Bible in Contemporary English which speaks more directly to our responsibilities as a people of shalom and wholeness.  It goes like this:

“Later on that day, the disciples had gathered together, but, fearful of the Jews, had locked all the doors in the house. Jesus entered, stood among them, and said, “Peace to you. Then he showed them his hands and side.

The disciples, seeing the Master with their own eyes, were exuberant. Jesus repeated his greeting: Peace to you.  Just as the Father sent me, I send you.”

Then he took a deep breath and breathed on them.  Receive the Holy Spirit,” he said. “If you forgive someone’s sins, they’re gone for good.  If you don’t forgive sins, what are you going to do with them?”

Indeed what are we going to do with the 600,000 prisoners who leave or jails and prisons each month?

I am proud to say that I have the opportunity to work with dedicated and caring professionals at the jail and in Oregon’s corrections system.  They work hard to resist the cynicism of a broken system and to help offenders develop the knowledge, skills, experience and courage to rejoin their neighbors. The hurdle remains, however, that when they do come home, we all too often, refuse to forgive them.

I expect to stay in contact with Tucker.  If he gets sent off to Eastern Oregon, I have already alerted Father Doug Jerome who will minister to him in person and perhaps include Tucker in his Education for Ministry (EFM) class at Eastern Oregon Correctional Facility.

Tucker and I were able to share Eucharist the day before he left our Jail. I encouraged him not to look back, not to let the label, “felon,” define him, but to move forward, with courage, into that changing and challenging picture of whom our Lord is calling him to be.