Monday, September 26, 2022

 The Bungee Cord 9-26-22

Hello,
In one of my churches a man came into my office wondering if we could provide some space for a group that he was leading. He was a state employee who was in charge of helping people who had just been released from prison work their way back into society. His groups were comprised of people who had served their time for various crimes as serious as murder, except no sexual offenders. Why they were left out, I don’t know. Anyway, after listening to the description of his needs, I felt like this would be a great opportunity for us to witness our Christian faith to these ex-prison folk and to provide a Christian witness to our community. So, I showed him a place in our building that had an exterior access, a restroom, and could be closed off from the rest of our building.
I took his request to our church governing board, and the vote was 12-0 (I don’t vote)….to deny his request. Generally, the reason for the denial was that it was seen as too dangerous and some people said that they would be scared to have such a group of folks in our building. I was disappointed.
Just a few weeks later, I was leading a seminar at a regional gathering of the WELCA (Women of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America). The subject of the seminar I forget, but I vividly remember a brief conversation that I had with the national representative of the WELCA who had come from Chicago. She was telling me of her church and the ministries that it had that were trying to reach beyond the walls of the church to the community, and among her list, she was enthusiastic to say was a ministry to ex-cons.
I didn’t get a chance to have her fill in the blanks about this ministry, but it was clear to me that there was something that her church saw in people who had been in prison, that my church didn’t see, and that was that her church saw these ex-cons as family. Maybe some of them were blood relatives, but for those that weren’t they were relatives by Jesus’ blood.
I have dealt with parishoners who have had relatives incarcerated, and when it has been one of their children, the pain of the imprisonment keeps them awake at night. It isn’t that they don’t believe that their child should not be held responsible for the pain that they have brought to others or the community, but like an parent, the isolation, the fear and the negative influence that their child faced in prison were like daggers to their hearts.
I am not an authority on criminal justice, and I know that part of the equation of that justice is remembering the pain that a crime brings to a victim. I also know that when trust is broken, it is very hard to reestablish, especially in families. And yet, I believe that the daggers that strike a parent’s heart of an incarcerated child also reach the heart of God when I hear Jesus say, “I was in prison and you visited me.”
Caring is a risky thing. You can have your heart broken time and time again when you care. But caring is also a priceless thing. When one is cared for and cares about another life comes alive. That is what the cross and resurrection of Jesus is all about, God cares, and God’s care leaves no one out. Not me…not you…no one. The church is at its best when it cares as God cares, after all, the Bible says the church is the body of Christ. So, it you have dug yourself into a deep hole and you find yourself in a real prison, or a prison with invisible bars, know this: God cares, and there is a church who sees you as family. A church whose heart feels the daggers that have pierced your heart, and who is willing to risk caring about you, rebuilding trust with you, and most of all being part of the divine transformation that through you God will bring love and mercy into the world instead of pain and suffering.
Have a great week!
God’s grace and peace, (ggap)
Pastor Jerry Nuernberger
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