Dispatch from Prison Ministry: on Life Sentences

skypennscaveIt’s hard for me to think about being anywhere for more than a few years.

Do you like staying in one spot? Or do you like the idea of finding a new place to live, or at least getting away for a vacation destination?

When I was growing up we moved about every 3-4 years.

Then, for about 7 years we lived in a rural area just outside Murrysville, PA (east of Pittsburgh). Though I lived the same house that whole time, my parents marriage blew apart and my dad got his own place. At that point I was sort of “moving” every other weekend when I went to see him.

Then at 16, I began to bounce around again. Two years living with my dad and his wife, then college (continual moving every few months), then a newlywed apartment, and then our first home purchased. But, since 2001 Tim and I have lived in one spot and raised two children.

They can’t possibly appreciate the stability this has given them, but I’m happy it’s worked out this way for them. I didn’t think we’d settle down here in the boonies or for this long. There isn’t much civilization…not even a Starbucks closer than 27.7 miles away. (Yes, I just checked.)

I’ve been itchy to go and find some new place to live for about a decade.

That’s one reason the concept of a life sentence is so hard to really grasp. It’s a revolting thought.

More than a few of the men I work with in prison ministry will die in jail. Some of them have 30, 40, and 50 year + sentences. A few have a official life or life + sentences.

This situation can make incarcerated men (and women) do crazy, bitter things. “What do I have to lose?” they think.

Penitentiaries are for inmates who commit violent crimes or for inmates who hurt or kill other inmates. They are places where the most violent, disturbed, and sick criminals go.

Where I minister is not a penitentiary. It’s a prison. Most of the inmates are “non violent” offenders. Some of them have done violent things, but they got away with them and were imprisoned for other sorts of crimes. Many have had drug addictions or they did gang or drug-related crime, like stealing, scamming, or running money or drugs for dealer higher- on the food chain. They don’t tend rapists and killers, etc.

Some of the guys did do awful things, but they behaved themselves for 10-20 years and got moved into the prison setting as a reward.

These men understand the privilege it is to be there, and they don’t want to be sent back to the pen.

Still, many struggle with lack of purpose, regret, sadness, boredom, dealing annoying or difficult cell mates, and missing family and friends.

Some lifers find it hard to stay positive. Not surprising, of course.

But here’s the real miracle:

Some lifers try to make the world a better place–their small world. They are (mostly) peaceful and transformed.

Really, you meet all types in prison. You see every mood and attitude. You see all levels of education. All colors of skin. All kinds of hair dos. All shapes and sizes. All economic and social class backgrounds…from guys who lived on the streets to ivy league college graduates, the prison has them.

But the thing that really makes the biggest impact for me lately is getting to know the guys that are grateful and joyful even though they know and everyone else knows they will die behind bars. They will never be freed no matter what good they do or how changed they become. They try to be good and do good because it’s the right thing, not because their situation will improve.

I find that inspirational.

This means that in prison ministry you get the chance to question your own (sometimes) poor attitudes because you can see people in these “lifer situations” go out of their way to be kind, thoughtful, and pleasant; or helpful, generous, and happy.

You ask yourself:

“What’s so bad about my life, really?”

You find some inspiration to say:

“I have my freedom, and for that I should and will be grateful.”

No, not everything is just how we want it to be, but we can take a lesson from these sorts of prisoners.

Besides, our attitudes can be a prison, can’t they?

We may have our freedom, but we may chose a cell of our own making.

Essay on Youth

Some of my thoughts on youth, now that it’s in the rear view mirror.

Youth: a chronic condition that ends in time.

CC file found here
teen star (CC file found here)

The stage of Youth: A time characterized by excitement, worry, hope, fear, misplaced confidence, and options (plenty of which are set to expire).

Nothing breathes fresh air into a situation like an eager youth ready to learn, try, fail, and keep trying. It inspires the younger ones and rallies the older ones.

Nothing is more endearing than a youth who prizes earlier generations and lacks the blinding hubris typical to the stage of the development.

and to the god of our age….Youth, Oh the beauty of it. Personified, Venus, her name. (Youthful Beauty…or what nearly every commercial directed at females is about.)

Like a baby unblemished and without scars, youth displays itself on the young like a pillar of potential, a stack of dreams and promises, shinning and magnificent, and frozen for just that moment in time. Though what youth feels this truly? Youth is a self-deluding time: The stage seems expansive when you are in it, and experience can’t bear this out differently because of the great lack of it.

Sustaining this impossibility of sustained youth, this age of supposed perfection becomes the futile and bitter plight for too many. And the fight for it is nonsensical.

Youth is a stage to be enjoyed and then left behind like outgrown clothes, once pristine, but all-too-soon ill-fitting and inappropriate for the rest of the voyage. Ballet slippers are shed for work boots.

How true that Youthful beauty is but one kind. Though who knows this?

By being convinced that beauty has a pinnacle (age 21?) too may rue the loss of this exterior sort of it–never realizing the false conception is not based on much more than societal conventions and symmetry…but it sells a lot of face cream, doesn’t it?

Yes, the flower of spring is glorious (youth indeed), but the whole plant, or tree, is the greater thing. An oak, a tower in homage to resilience, humanity in the full, of which youthful can never assail, let alone master.

The joy and glory of youth is the promise of accomplishment. Like graduation ceremonies and semi-finals matches.

Though what youth sees it this way?

And what about the resentment of youth by the no longer young?
Maybe it stems from the regret of the energy and options lost. The verve the youths possess can seem enviable. Though they (youth) don’t know it, their blatant inexperience and lack of wisdom, from the outside, seems pitiful, just like the weakness and lethargy of advanced years seem like that to the youth.

“What a young fool,” says the man.

“What a tired and bitter old man,” says the youth.

Both under-estimated.

And back to confidence.

Youthful confidence rests in that accomplishments are assured with effort and willingness. (Though it seems different to them sometimes. For them, confidence may rest mainly in feeling the power of mind and body so fully.)

This confidence is often shattered or dismantled within a decade because of the slings and arrows of life. But occasionally not, and never for the narcissist.

Sickness, financial strain, mishaps, circumstances, failure, and the most debilitating – early success – strip out the potency of youthful confidence. With persistence and determination this is replaced by the better things:

  • stability of character
  • the resolution of will 
  • fortitude of spirit

But, best of all: the of acquisition compassion necessary for the species to survive, or even–sometimes– thrive.

(Oh, that it is empathic compassion, not pity, is the impetus for acts of goodness.)

And what of maturity of the youth? 

A mature youth is only mature compared to his peers or the fools of older generations.

And for good reason. Maturity is a gift, not a certainty. It comes through time, but also by Grace, just as youth and health come. Though who knows this?

A “mature youth” is usually an oxymoronic attribute, as genuine maturity involves accumulating wisdom.

Maturity and wisdom come through testing and testing by the passage of time well-lived and the battles of life well-tested.

Youthful maturity is then only the bud of it which, if it is there at all, is necessarily nestled in humility (knowing well, or in some good manner, the terrible disadvantage of inexperience).

In the end, the unknown exists for all, but the degrees and varieties of it change as time passes and aging happens. Both exciting and terrifying–needing courage and inner strength.

It goes in stages from

“What will I become?”

to

“What will become of me, and us all?”

 

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