(Originally written for Douglas County Publishing: Pastor's Meditation Feb. 24 issue)
Matthew 25:31-46—Then the King will
say…“Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom
prepared for you…For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was
thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me
in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I
was in prison and you came to visit me…I tell you the truth, whatever you did
for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Then he will say…“Depart from me, you who are
cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat
I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did
not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in
prison, and you did not look after me…I tell you the truth, whatever you did
not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.” Then they will go away to eternal punishment,
but the righteous to eternal life.
(Photo cred: Luigi Caterino "Jail")
In
the last month my wife and I have had the opportunity to join in worship
services at two churches behind bars—Cornerstone at the State Penitentiary and
Living Stone at Mike Durfee State Prison.
As we approached these places, all I saw was fortified walls, tall
fences, barbed wire, and bars on windows.
Scenes from TV shows and movies depicting life on the inside as harsh
and violent played through my mind. For
a few moments, I wondered why I was there.
We hadn’t been
sentenced for crimes, and this does not really seem like the place we want to
be. If the physical appearance wasn’t
enough, we also had to leave our keys, wallets, and cellphones behind. We traded in our driver’s licenses for a
visitor badges and body alarms. It hit me;
I’m getting locked in, too.
To
get to the sanctuary in both places, a short walk is required. At the State Penitentiary “The Hill,” we walked
shoulder-to-shoulder next to inmates, gave a few short greetings, and made our
way to our seats rather quickly to wait for the service to begin. As worship started, we were invited to greet
one another, to shake hands. For the
first time it truly connected that these men, who I had only been considering
criminals, inmates, convicts up to that point, were also believers. They were brothers in Christ! To stand and talk with them and the inmates
in Springfield was just like talking to a churchgoer in Corsica on a Sunday
morning or afternoon. Their stories are
a bit different from most of ours, but nonetheless they have come to know
Christ. They have put their trust in
Jesus and been changed.
I
tell you these experiences not to boast and not to say look at the good work I’m
doing. I share them because these have
led to new conviction from Jesus’ words in Matthew 25. In our lives, we have to choose to go the way
of eternal punishment or the way of eternal life. Receiving Christ gives us great joy to live
our daily lives with our families, our friends, and our community, but it also
transforms us and gives us new responsibilities.
To the hungry,
the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, the imprisoned—we are called to
serve those who might be very different from us. We are called to neighbors who might not be
as well off as we are in terms of finances, possessions, or maturity. We are called to the least of these, but we
should also be willing to learn from them.
My brothers behind bars may be locked up, but they have experienced and
testify to some of the greatest freedom because they have come to know Christ!
Comments
Post a Comment