An Inconvienent Reminder

It was dark and cold when we left the prison that night. As always, several of the inmates helped us with our gear. We came to a gate, and one of them said, “I can’t go beyond that line. You’ll have to take it from there.” We thanked him for his assistance, loaded the bus and went home.

The reason I remember that incident is that his picture appeared in the Knoxville News Sentinel about two weeks later. According to the article, he was serving a minimum of twenty-five years for murder. I remember feeling unnerved.

As I’ve thought about that incident, I’ve wondered why I was unnerved. Was I merely being a prig, smug in my own moral superiority? Was I irrationally afraid that he would do something to me? Perhaps, but I suspect that it was something deeper.

Inmates have one big advantage over me. I get to hide my wretchedness  – to an extent. I’m a father and husband, I have a respectable job, and from external appearances, I’m living the American dream. House, two cars, bank account, etc. I’ve only had one traffic ticket in my life.

Contrast that with an inmate. His entire existence screams at him that he’s done something that merits punishments measured in years. The bed he sleeps in, the food he eats, the place he lives, even down to the TDOC (Tennessee Department Of Corrections) written all over his clothing broadcast his state to the whole world. His advantage? He has a much harder time denying that he desperately needs someone to remake him from the inside out.

Don’t we counter with, “Surely I’m not that bad”? The problem is that, Jesus would disagree. Ever look at a Playboy? According to Jesus, you’re an adulterer. Ever loaf on the job? You’re a thief. Ever mutter “God!” when you hit yourself with a hammer? You’re a blasphemer. Work too much, eat too much, love the world too much? You’re an idolater. The list goes on.

With respect to the inmate above, ever gossiped or slandered someone? You guessed it – you’re a murderer. That also means that I am all of those things I listed and worse. I only covered half of the Ten Commandments.

The inmate, by his very existence, reminded me that, perhaps, we’re more alike than I dare to admit.

That’s the bad news. The good news is that the gospel cries out that no man is beyond the reach of God’s grace. The temptation exists for us to believe that we have sinned too many times or too heinously. Jesus tells us that we’ve broken all the commandments many times in many heinous ways, and yet can still be adopted as God’s sons.

It’s a message not only for anyone who’s killed a man, it’s for all of us who’ve wanted to.

I Know I’ve Been Changed

She began the solo deep in her range.  Closing my eyes in anticipation of the beautiful interplay between the men’s ensemble and this talented vocalist, I sat listening to the sweet strains of I Know I’ve Been Changed.  This is my favorite song of this year’s program; I know each entrance, each crescendo, as the spiritual swells to its celebration of a life changed.  But today there’s something new!

My ears strain to pick it up, but it’s there; the rich bass sound accompanying our female soloist.  It’s almost imperceptible, but it’s there joining in worship with her soulful offering.  The voices are not coming from our men.  I open my eyes and directly across from me a small group of the men with whom we’ve come to share, are softly singing along.  They sing every word of the song of praise for a life transformed.

This traditional spiritual which, on its own, inspires thankful, loving worship, is elevated to new heights by the addition of those who know they have much for which to be thankful.  Performers and audience members come together in praise of a loving God, a God who reaches into broken lives and transforms them for His glory.  The simple act of these men joining in on this day unites us all as a body of believers.

As the song crescendos to its powerful climax with men and soloist proclaiming the joyous news that “My Jesus in Heaven done changed my name!” hearts soar.  The gospel song winds down in dramatic fashion with the ensemble singing a dominant seventh followed by a diminished chord, to end on a simple minor chord.  The soloist’s authoritative voice stands out against this complex backdrop as if to emphasize the significance of each life redeemed.

The piece, just a few minutes in length, has set a tone for the rest of the afternoon.  We continue our worship united by THE JOY OF THOSE WHO KNOW THEY’VE BEEN CHANGED.

Written based on our visit to Knox County Jail 5/4/2013.

 

Blessings Return Tenfold

“Wait and hope for and expect the Lord; be brave and of good courage and let your heart be stout and enduring. Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord.” Psalm 27:14

I’ve often heard that when volunteering to help others, the blessings return tenfold to the giver. That is what happens with each and every KnoxCAM performance. The profound spiritual lesson that I learn from inmates and down-on-their-luck citizens reminds me that God lives with us in the moment, wherever that may be.
We can’t expect that things will always turn out how we desire; the stories of the men and women for whom KnoxCAM performs are a testament to that truth. Yet, I am always amazed at their sense of contentment for where they are in life. When I look out upon the audience, I am humbled by the serenity in the faces of the prisoners and homeless. With their eyes closed and perhaps swaying to a song, their countenances reflect God’s spirit of true freedom in their lives.
These prisoners we visit have learned how to trust God in the smallest moments. They seem to see more clearly, that God is still present and working through them even as their basic freedoms have been taken away.
I find myself quite lacking when it comes to being brave and having courage. I am thankful that as a member of KnoxCAM, I can learn from the men and women who view our performances, to trust Jesus and hope in Him in new ways.
A friend who died of cancer used to say, “I hope you can get what I’ve got, without getting what I’ve got.” A stark reminder that, even in the face of certain death, there is the certainty of eternal life as a believer in Jesus.
As I watch the grateful and contented faces of Christ’s followers in the audience at each KnoxCAM performance, I imagine they would say,
“I hope you can be where I am, without being where I am!”