I was an obvious target. Or so I thought. The only white guy to go inside the prison in over 3 months. Walking through the large steel gates, I suddenly felt vulnerable. 3200 inmates packed into a prison yard and the only guard I could see was having a smoke in the tower to my left. I had this feeling that if someone wanted to cause trouble or get a reputation, I would be the right target.
Prison chaplains invest their own time to bring love and support to hardened criminals
In reality, no one was all that interested in us. A dozen inmates were shooting a basketball; others were shading under a tree from the 30 degree sun; some were watering a small garden which was planted at the side of the main accommodation building. Most men were minding their own business just killing time. I nodded my “pagi” to a few guys standing beside the pathway, and their initial scowl gave way to a nod and a yellow-toothed grin.
There were two things that surprised me, even shocked me: Firstly, that there were so many men here. That prison facility was made to accommodate 1500 men; 3200 were crammed in here. Some didn’t even have their own bed. 8 men slept in a 4-man room. Their individual faces were lost in the crowd, but each one had a unique story of how they landed in this place. But that wasn’t as shocking as my second surprise…
I was visiting the inside of this prison with a dozen Christian chaplains who run a chapel service and Bible study every single week. These people are salt of the earth – volunteering their own time to help men who were forgotten and disqualified from free society. These chaplains are part of our SGM Lifewords’ work in caring for inmates with the hope of reconciliation and peace. On this particular day, they were going to introduce me to a few inmates who had gained new life since their incarceration. It started with a chapel service where I thought there would be 15-20 gathered, but as we opened the doors to the chapel, my jaw dropped.
Over 250 men were jammed in the pews, and they weren’t just spectators with nothing better to do. These guys were different: arms raised and singing, “puji Tuhan, Yesus Kristus” (praise the Lord Jesus Christ) in a way that I had never seen grown men do before. It honestly took my breath away. These were hardened men with tattoos, scars, and singlets, singing loudly and passionately.
Roni was one of the guys we met (sorry I couldn’t get a photo of Roni because the guards took every single item from us at the prison gate- that’s another story). Roni had served 2 of 8 years for a drug-related offense. Last year, he was given a “You Matter” booklet from the chaplains. He didn’t read it for more than a week, but one evening he was bored and started flicking the pages. He soon sat up a little straighter, thought a little harder until something started to happen inside. He felt something stirring in his chest, and soon he found himself weeping, unaware that the words of this booklet were speaking into his shrunken soul.
“I didn’t know what to think. I knew there was a God but I didn’t really know who He was. Suddenly this little book was telling me that he was the Father who accepts the rebellious son. He was kind and forgiving. He was willing to love even when his son didn’t deserve it. That son is me. In that moment, I felt free like I never have before. And my Christian mate told me that it’s the truth that will set me free.”
When the song struck up again, his arms were higher than all the others. For those two hours, I realised that I had much to learn from these men. These men seemed to understand deep soulful concepts – things like redemption, undeserved love, restoration, grace and mercy. I admit that I often think of these ideas as nice theories… but for these guys, they are life transforming and tangible.
As I return to the prison next week, I look forward to hearing more from Roni and other men who are slowly being rehabilitated and experiencing a second dose of life – on their way to freedom.
Original Article written for Lifewords, at www.australia.sgmlifewords.com where I serve as the National Director in Australia.
