Peace and harmony behind bars?
It was a
breath of fresh air.
The prison
gates clanked behind me. A Corrections
Officer frisked me. Into another room…more
gates noisily opening and closing. A
remote control unit with an emergency button for me to carry in the event I
felt endangered or threatened. Still one
more gate, and then an escort through the prison yard to another building.
And in that
moment, I escaped from some insanity never experienced before in my eight
decades---
Entire families hardly verbally communicating with
each other anymore---simply texting!
Two factions claiming that scripture is on their
side, and that between contemporary music and traditional church music, only one is
acceptable!
People of alleged integrity claiming that it’s OK
to discontinue healthcare for some segments of our society.
An abrupt reversal in our nation’s care and
concern about immigrants, racism and the environment.
A tacit approval from our nation’s leaders to
denigrate and bad-mouth those with whom we disagree.
30 men
welcomed me into their prison classroom last week, for a book club meeting. There was hugging and
hand-shaking, as old and new friends greeted me. The tone of the meeting was set when an
inmate suggested that he offer an opening prayer.
And then,
behind bars, I had the most amazing experience.
Yes, there was some discussion of my book, the actual reason for the
get-together. But the two-hour session was much bigger than that. Here were 30 men who, according to some
segments of our society, make up the “worst of the worst,” showing dignity and
kindness and respect and consideration to those with varying opinions and
ideas. Here were men who not only wanted
to discuss the lessons and ramifications of the SWEET FREEDOM story, they
wanted to discuss what to do about these concerns and problems. These men behind bars wanted to explore how
to make this a better world!
Can you even
imagine it?
Believe me,
I didn’t need a portable alarm system in my pocket. I needed a magic sponge to absorb the love,
concern, compassion and respect that filled that room. I wanted to take it home with me. I wanted it in my soul to ward off what I
knew I could anticipate when I left the prison grounds and returned to the real
world.
May God keep
the afterglow alive.
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