Monday, December 21, 2009
Just One Sermon
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
What I Learned In Prison - Part 2
The Chaplain's voice over the prison PA system did the same thing. Being summoned to the Chaplain's office often meant there was bad news to be delivered. The Chaplain would be called by an inmate's family to inform him of a death or other news of an emergency nature. I took the information down, called the inmate, and shared that piece of news with them.
I learned quickly that many families of inmates do not accept calls from them because of the high cost of "collect" calls. Families would block their numbers. The only way some inmates communicated, when they did communicate, was through visits or letters. It was not unusual for inmates to go months at a time without hearing from their family.
But when the bad news came I was able to be helpful to them. I'd use my office phone so they could call their families and get the news "first hand." In a minimum custody facility I also had the ability to make it possible for the inmate to attend the funeral of close family members (typically only spouse, parents or children). They would be transported to the funeral, wear "street clothes," sit with their families, and then return at the conclusion of the service. (Although more than once I heard that the transporting officers let them stay for the meal at the church if there was one!) The family paid $50 to the State of NC for this service.
These emergency calls seemed to run hot and cold. I went weeks at a time without getting one, but when they came - they usually came all at once and I was filling out an ABUNDANCE of paperwork for each temporary release. But I could tell it meant a great deal for the inmate to be able to attend these funerals. And when circumstances prevented them from attending they at least had a good long conversation, courtesy of North Carolina, with their loved ones.
It had been one of those busy times of relaying bad news, grief counseling, and seeing if they could be released for the service when the phone rang. The woman on the other end told me her name and that her brother was an inmate, and that she had news for him. He was a new father! Finally some good news to share! I got all the news and pertinent information. I asked the baby's name, how big he was, how he was doing, everything I could think to relay to the inmate.
So I was excited to call the inmate to the office. I didn't know him, and when he came in he had that look of 'impending doom' on his face that I was going to ruin his day. But I said, "This is a good call for you." I told him, "your sister called and wanted to tell you that you're a brand new daddy." I told him everything I learned, the name, weight, good condition, etc. The man just sat there with what could only be described as a 'blank' look on his face. After I was done sharing what I thought was pretty good news, giving him something to look forward to, etc. he looked at me and asked, "Chaplain, did my sister tell you who the baby's mother was?"
I was stunned. I had to process that question for a minute! Then I was irritated. "I thought you would know that!" I said.
Nope, no clue. Big question mark written all over "playa's" face
I was to learn that all of his children (emphasis on ALL of his children) were by different women, and that this was the second child born to him while he had been locked up.
Whether he ever chose to find out who the mother of his child was remains a mystery to me. Whether his son will ever know his dad and have a positive relationship with him seems doubtful at best. Will that son grow up in his father's footprints and one day be locked up himself? It does seem a continuing cycle.
Family values are far more than a campaign slogan, or a talking point for community organizers. I was reminded in that situation what an awesome responsibility - and privilege - it is to be a parent. It is easy to pro-create, but the task of parenting and raising a child is demanding. Churches need to emphasize the qualities and characteristics of a Godly mom and dad. We need to model those qualities to young men and women who will learn much about the mechanics of sex, but little about the responsibilities that come with it.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Who's Afraid of the "B" Word?
Monday, September 14, 2009
What I Learned in Prison - Part 1
Situated outside of Columbia, NC is Tyrrell Prison Work Farm, a minimum custody facility. It houses many offenders. Most of them are young men who have drug offenses, usually selling them. There are also some non-violent offenders there. They committed crimes like check forgery, credit card fraud, and similar offenses. Yet there were also MANY older men who had been locked up a long time who have just worked through the prison levels from maximum, to medium, to minimum security. These have committed serious and violent crimes. Many had life sentences given to them. Through time served and good behavior they worked their way up to minimum custody to finish their sentences.
Prison was indeed the last place in my life I would have imagined finding myself. The chain of events that led me there for 15 months was something I’d never desire to go through again. It was far from the ‘hard time’ of a close-custody facility, but it was still prison. And it was inside the gates and razor wire over the course of many days, weeks, and months that I learned numerous lessons about my faith and what a Christian lifestyle really looked like.
Right now many of you are shocked and thinking, “I didn’t know Yager went to prison! Just what did he really do?” Put your minds at ease! I went to prison for 15 months, but each day I got to go home! I was employed by the NC Department of Correction, put there by God, not by the legal system. Although, I can think of a handful of people that would have liked me to have been permanently incarcerated there!! But I digress. For 15 months I had the unique opportunity to be a Clinical Chaplain, and was blessed to be able to minister to men (and occasionally their families) who had experienced far worse things than I ever have, or ever hope to experience.
My new-found congregation had as many 570 members. The numbers shifted from week to week, but that was the average. They all wore the same green jumpsuit every day, whether it was to church, to work, or to eat. Church services were held each Sunday night for about 90 minutes. An outside group called “Yokefellows” came each week for peer counseling; and I even taught a mid-week Bible study. Once a year we even had what could only be called a Revival with services each night for a week. One of the maintenance crew had built a baptistry for us where I immersed many men into Christ for the forgiveness of their sins and the gift of the Holy Spirit. We had an inmate choir complete with a praise band. Plenty of stories could be told about that group, sometimes referred to as “the Christian mafia” by the staff!
I always smile to think that I went from upstanding, clean-cut {for the most part!} Bible College students with a bright future to murderers, rapists, child molesters, and more drug dealers than I could count. The first inmate who greeted me each morning as I came to work is serving life for burglary and rape. The second one I usually passed each morning is doing life for 2nd degree murder. I had a Chaplain’s Clerk, now released, doing 6 years for 2nd degree rape. Fortunately for me, he was one of the most ‘respected’ inmates there, and one of the biggest. His nickname was “truck.” That pretty much sums up his size!
The first week or two that I passed under the razor wire, and through the various gates were very intimidating. Every prison movie I ever saw came to mind as I passed through the yard filled with many more inmates than Officers. After that I just viewed it as going to work, and hardly noticed the ‘prison’ aspect. Well, that’s mostly true. There was one day I was near-by where a fight broke out and ended up getting in the cross-fire of pepper-spray. This vividly reminded me I wasn’t in the local church building any more. I did have the officers who wrote the report include, “The Chaplain was inadvertently sprayed in the fight, but took it like a man!”
You’ll hear people often scoff that “everyone gets religion in prison.” But such is not the case. Many inmates chose not to attend the various services we offered, or attend the peer counseling groups, etc. It is also true that some may have attended just as a diversion from a very routine schedule. Some, I’m sure, abandoned their faith as soon as they were released. They may be like the inmate who told me he had been locked up ’27 times.’ And that guy was younger than me. But I’d like to believe that some who found Christ in prison took their faith beyond their sentence and incarceration and have experienced new lives outside the prison fence. I’m reminded that I know many people who have never been arrested who once claimed a relationship with Jesus, but for whatever reason do not desire to have one with Him any longer. I’ve seen countless kids at camp or youth groups have conversion experiences who are no longer in the Church. The same thing holds true for both those in and out of prison. Sometimes long-term faithfulness isn’t part of their plans.
One of the first lessons I’ll share from my prison experience is how when the masks, or veneers, or facades are removed, there is both a realness and a realization of who you are, and where you stand in life, and before Almighty God. There is a perception among many that every inmate claims they weren’t guilty. They were set-up. They were “victims” of false identification; police corruption; or for some other reason they didn’t deserve to be locked up. Ask some law enforcement officers some time how many of the people they arrest claim to be innocent.
This is one thing that truly surprised me and it blew away that preconceived idea: I only met one person among the hundreds that came in and out of that unit while I was there who said, “I didn’t do it.” The majority readily admitted their guilt to me. It was as if they were seeking someone who would listen. They had been found guilty by the State of NC, and rightly so. They wanted to know, however, if a Higher Authority had anything other than judgment and condemnation for them. It was my opportunity, even privilege, to introduce them to the God of forgiveness and salvation. I couldn’t do anything to shorten their sentence, but since I had them as a ‘captive audience’ {forgive the pun} I did endeavor to share with them the love, mercy, and forgiveness offered by Jesus!
Each week as dozens of men came in and out of my office I heard the confessions of crimes they committed. I could read the chilling reports in their files of what they had done. From gruesome murders that could make even Hollywood squeamish, to unspeakable crimes against small children, these men told me things I wasn’t expecting to hear. My office became a confessional of sorts, and the only absolution I could offer them was the blood of Christ. They still had to do the time, but I wanted them to know there was something better for them, something life-changing. They didn’t deserve it, but then neither did I. Neither do you. That is what God’s grace is all about.
I’ve come to believe that these inmates saw me in a far different light than the Correction Officers who made sure they obeyed the rules, or could write them up, or throw them in the hole (i.e. solitary). They didn’t see me as the police, the prosecutor, or the judge. Most saw the Chaplain as the one person in their world who just might listen to them without more condemnation or judgment. I think they had plenty of that already. They saw the Chaplain as God’s representative, the Lord’s servant, who just might have a kind word, or be able to present some better options for them.
Being a Chaplain in prison taught me that I had previously been too quick to judge and pronounce sentence. I was good at labeling sin, and proclaiming what was right, and what was wrong. Maybe I had even become too good at that. I previously had no use for those who committed these heinous and wicked crimes. Yet I was now reminded that these offenders were also sinners who could be forgiven. These were indeed the very lost that Jesus came to seek and save (see Mk. 10:45). Too many are quick to judge, but slow to reach out to the ones who stand condemned.
So many examples from Scripture come to mind. Perhaps none so compelling as that woman caught in the very act of adultery. The guilt of her sin, specifically condemned in the Ten Commandments, was never in doubt. It was never even debated what she deserved. But what she found from the Savior Jesus was far different than what everyone else was prepared to do to her. She found in Christ a voice of forgiveness not another joining in the shouts of condemnation. His admonition to “sin no more” said all that was needed about her guilt. His offer of pardon to her tells the story of God’s grace and mercy: “Neither do I condemn you” (See Jn. 8:3-11)
People can get accusations, gossip, judgment, and condemnation anywhere. But God’s servant must be a voice of hope carrying a message of forgiveness through the blood of Jesus. This doesn’t mean that we cannot stand opposed to violent behavior and even agree with strong punishments for the convicted criminal. But in the spirit of, “there but for the grace of God go I” we offer God’s plan of forgiveness, reconciliation, and redemption. I want to be a Christian who can see beyond guilt and short-comings. I like so well the words of the hymn, “Seeking the Lost” that say:
“Thus would I go on missions of mercy, following Christ from day unto day; Cheering the faint and raising the fallen, pointing the lost to Jesus the Way” (William A. Ogden, 1886).
Hear again the words of the writer of Hebrews, “Remember the prisoners, as though in prison with them….” (Heb. 13:3). Who do you know that has been judged, condemned, and thrown away by the world, and maybe even by Christians? They still need to hear about the love and forgiveness offered by Christ. Become a Chaplain to them!
“C’mon, Murphy. Let’s go outside!”
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
When Did Worship Become a Spectator Sport?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Keep That Dog On The Chain!

What has happened to the great cartoons? I can't find Bugs Bunny anywhere these days, and I have a LOT of channels!! One of my favorite Warner Bros. cartoons was, and is, Foghorn Leghorn - the Southern Gentleman rooster! The plot never varied too much. He would aggravate the dog, the dog would chase him, and then dog would get his neck snapped back when the rope to which he was tied reached the limit. Occasionally he would also get hit upside the head with a 2x4. Oh, they don't write entertainment like that anymore! But before the cartoon would end, invariably Foghorn Leghorn would end up inside the dog's range and he would get tore up. He was safe, until he got too close to trouble.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Come As You Are... But Leave Different!
I confess I like going to Church without a jacket and tie. I have even wore blue jeans on several occasions. I guess it is as liberating to me to not wear a suit to church as when women were burning their bras back in the 60's. Come as you are to church is a great idea!