Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Christmas in Prison

This past Sunday, the volunteer who came in to preach in our chapel service asked me before service started, "So, how do guys in prison celebrate Christmas?" Perhaps too quickly, I replied, "We don't like to think about Christmas, or any holiday." 

The bitter truth is that every day throughout the year it is difficult to be away from family, but on holidays it is especially difficult. For me, even Christmas songs and movies I used to love have become something I avoid because they are a painful reminder of better times with my kids. They are also a reminder of my failures as a father, husband, and son. 


There are no decorated Christmas trees or lights in prison, no caroling or spiced cider, no festive gifts, and definitely no Christmas cheer. No matter how prisoners choose to celebrate (or not) the holidays though, be it a special cook-up, calls home, or a precious visit from a loved one sacrificing their own celebrations, this time of year can still hold joy and hope for those who choose to find these gifts. 


For some prisoners, it's another holiday away from family, but also one closer to going home. For others, it might be simply the end of a touch year with hope for something positive in the New Year.

My choice is to embrace the memories of better times with my kids, even through the pain of broken relationships, for the joy these memories hold and for the hope they give me for future memories of holidays with those I love.


May your holidays be filled with beautiful memories made with your loved ones. Merry Christmas!"

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Michigan Penitentiary

Prisons are sometimes referred to as penitentiaries, but I always wondered why. I recently finished reading Restoring Justice by Daniel Van Ness and Karen Strong where they explained the history of the use of the word penitentiary. Apparently, reformers in Philadelphia in the late 1700s decided that the cruelty of contemporary punishments and jails required a change. Modeling imprisonment after the use of confinement in monasteries for penitence and reflection, in this newly devised role of imprisonment prisoners were given a bible and time to contemplate it in isolated cells.

Today's "penitentiary" is a far cry from that designed by these Philadelphia reformers. Perhaps the most significant difference is the purpose for imprisonment today versus the purpose of more than 200 years ago. Imprisonment today is retributive in focus rather than restorative in focus. Even the use of the term "reformatory" is laugh-worthy considering the nearly 50% re-offense rate for Michigan prisoners.

To be fair, the Michigan Department of Corrections is making isolated attempts to change criminal thinking patterns with the use of Violence Prevention Programs (VPP) and other similarly designed therapies. However, Michigan has a long way to go to truly begin reforming criminal thinking.

Those who commit crimes hold the sole responsibility of changing, reforming, and repenting of their crimes. They must want these changes for true reform to occur. The MDOC, the judge, and the prosecutor cannot change a person's heart, but the State has a duty to the public to create conditions which support and encourage a penitent heart.

Friday, December 11, 2015

Servility of the Spirit

In her classic book, The Fountainhead, author Ayn Rand asked, "If physical slavery is repulsive, how much more repulsive is the concept of servility of the spirit?"

At first this question resonated with me because I believe both physical slavery and the breaking of someone's spirit to be repulsive. However, armed with the knowledge that Ayn Rand was an atheist, I began to think deeply about her question and ask myself what servility of the spirit really means.

The bible says in Romans 6:16 that "to whom you yield yourselves slaves to obey, you are that one's slaves whom you obey." 

That means that to whomever, or whatever, we surrender or cease resisting we become the slave of that person or thing.

Prisoners, with all of their talk of bravado and hatred of authority, are still choosing to yield themselves as slaves. This slavery might be to an addiction, the incessant chase of money, or to the control of their own passions and anger. Whatever their chosen master, prisoners have obeyed to the harm of another.

Prisoners are not alone in their surrender to slavery though. Millions of the law-abiding public have likewise chosen to yield to the brutal masters of addiction, anger, uncontrolled passions, or to a host of other tyrants. Whether this obedience results in breaking the law or not, every cruel master creates chaos and leaves destruction in its wake. 

We all choose to serve something or someone. If that someone is self we might just discover what a cruel and destructive master we can be. Instead of serving ourselves maybe we should take the advice of Paul and, "through love serve one another." (Galatians 5:13)

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

A Visit Most Dear


** I recently asked another inmate who is involved in our college-prep program here at LCF to write a guest post. He graciously agreed and below is his post:

I recently received a visit from a man named Bernie, an unremarkable event except that he is the father of a murdered son and I am 20 years into a life sentence for first-degree murder. We were brought together by a common pursuit of victim-offender mediation in which my attempts to obtain a mediation agency-sponsored reconciliation conference were repeatedly denied by MDOC administrators, as were Bernie's. 

During our visit, Bernie spoke of how he had forgiven his offender early on and had been wanting to personally extend him forgiveness for many years. I, in turn, relayed how it took me much longer to realize my moral obligation to provide my victim's family with a personal apology but had also been seeking such an opportunity for a number of years. Bernie and I also exchanged testimonials of how our mutual Christian faith--his of longstanding and mine of more recent origin--had both compelled and enabled us to seek reconciliation with our counterparts. We further compared the long-term effects murder had had on us. Amazingly, Bernie spoke only of how he and his family had been able to put their tremendous loss behind them and were doing well. I described how I have been able to find a sense of purpose in this dismal place through teaching math classes to fellow prisoners seeking college enrollment and by assisting them in discovering the many benefits of restorative justice practices. 


Our visit was very cordial, extremely therapeutic, and completely devoid of any fear or hostility. It ended too soon with multiple handshakes, plans for a sequel, and a request for Bernie to become my mentor--a request he readily granted. 


None of this would have been possible if we had not pursued a personal visit following the MDOC's denial of a formal reconciliation process; none of this would have been remarkable if it had not been me that had taken the life of Bernie's son. 
-- Scott Wynne #247226