Led by Spirit, volunteers bring Christ behind bars

After signing our names in the register, we proceeded through a series of gates, each one closing behind us before the next one opened, for security purposes. We headed inward, which actually brought us to the bus to transport us to the retreat location at the facility.

Tall, chain-link fences with barbed wire stretching across their tops surrounded us, leaving no doubt that this is a place where people are trapped, confined, imprisoned.

We reached our destination, where we would spend the next 12 hours praying, socializing, eating, perhaps even shedding tears with the residents and one another. The team members began transforming the spacious room into a temporary retreat center -- a candle and a picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus were placed on a makeshift altar...banners depicting a piece of wheat or the phrase "God = freedom" were hung on the wall behind the altar...and REC booklets were spread out on the tables at which the residents sat.

With the REC team members set to go, nearly 50 inmates, dressed in olive pants and various t-shirts or sweatshirts, made their way into the room that would serve as an oasis from their prison cells, if only for a few hours. Those who recognize REC team members from previous retreats got reacquainted with them, while newcomers were made to feel welcome.

Once everyone settled down, with REC team members seated among inmates at the tables, Tom O'Connor, the lay director for the weekend and a parishioner of St. Matthew's Church in Voorheesville, introduced himself and set the tone for the retreat.

"This weekend, you and I are going to surrender to a Higher Power: the love of Jesus Christ," he said. "We are all imprisoned by one thing or another. No one is completely free. But this weekend, we will be encountering Jesus Christ, who can break our chains and make us completely free."

After the inmates introduced themselves, saying something as simple as, "My name is A.Z. This is my first REC. I'm glad to be here," they and the REC team members stood and delivered a rousing rendition of the hymn "Here I Am, Lord," with guitarist Tom Amato, a parishioner of St. Brigid's Church in Watervliet, providing musical accompaniment.

The inmates then selected names for their tables, such as "Brothers In Christ," "Bad Boyz Looking," "The Five Believers" or "God's Finest," each expressing their faith and hope as they sought Christ during the retreat.

Next came the Bible enthronement, during which team member Don Gager, a parishioner of St. Patrick's Church in Ravena, carried the Bible and three inmates carried two candles and a crucifix in a procession around the room to the altar. That was followed by the first of several talks by team members and inmates.

Al Angelino, a team member and a parishioner of Immaculate Conception Church in Glenville, presented the Word of God talk, during which he told the story of Moses discovering God in the burning bush and leading the Israelites from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land. He also told about the centurion at Jesus' crucifixion who came to the realization that "truly, this man was the Son of God."

Each inmate was given a Bible in English or Spanish, and asked to read various Scripture passages by the following day as an overnight assignment.

The theme of the next talk -- and the entire first day of the retreat, for that matter -- was "Dying and Changing," given by team member Joaquin Bermudez, a parishioner of St. John's/St. Ann's Church in Albany. Referring to John 12:24 ("Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains a single grain of wheat"), he challenged the inmates to reform their ways and begin fresh.

"Unless we die to ourselves and make the decision to change, we remain the same person. We remain the same man that brought us here in the first place," he said. "It is up to you to change and start a new life. Today. Here. Now."

After the Dying and Changing talk, the inmates discussed what they heard, and a spokesman from each table shared with the group what his tablemates learned. They made the connection between themselves and the grain of wheat; and they realized that without letting themselves die to an extent, they would not find new life in Christ.

Next, team member Walt Forney, a parishioner of Corpus Christi Church in Ushers, led the group in the Serenity Prayer and talked about ideals and Christian maturity. As a child, Mr. Forney's hero was the Lone Ranger, and he wanted to be just like the masked man when he grew up. During his adolescence, he discovered another type of hero in priests, whom he admired for having the power to celebrate Mass and for wearing special vestments.

Mr. Forney decided to enter the seminary, but he left after three years. Afterward, he viewed money and material possessions as ideals, but he was feeling stunted in his Christian growth and did not know how to move past this stage of his life. So, he joined the Navy and spent 28 years in the service. It wasn't until he attended a Cursillo retreat in 1982, however, that his perception of God changed from one of a powerful enforcer who held him accountable for his actions to a loving friend that gave him a tap on the shoulder once in a while and reminded him of the right thing to do.

He also shared with the group some turning points in his life: finding out as a 10-year-old that his father had spent two years in jail, being told by his father not to stop believing in God when he considered not going to church anymore, and losing his best friend and fellow REC team member, Guy Morone, to cancer last year.

Mr. Forney emphasized that "our ideal is our reality. If we choose to become a servant of God, then we will be like Jesus. If our ideals are out of line and out of tune with what God wants for us, we need to examine them often. We need to talk to God daily."

Lastly, he asked the inmates to ponder three questions: who is your hero? why? can you grow in Christian maturity in prison? After closing with the Serenity Prayer, Mr. Forney received hugs from several of his fellow team members, and the inmates got busy drawing posters to illustrate his talk on ideals and Christian maturity.

Many residents show their artistic flair in creating their posters, which typically depict roads or stairways leading toward heaven and hell, or list such good things in life as God, peace, love and commitment -- juxtaposed with drug paraphernalia, dead-end streets and gravestones.

After singing a spirited version of "I Can See Clearly Now," the residents listened as Deacon Owen South, from St. Agnes/St. Patrick/St. Marie's parish in Cohoes, spoke about death and resurrection. As a teenager, he cut school for four months, had a brush with the law and was on probation. After failed attempts as a telegram delivery boy and a dairy farm worker, he joined the Marines.

While in the service, Mr. South received a letter from his mother containing religious items, including a holy card depicting St. Jude, patron of hopeless cases. Although some of his fellow servicemen ridiculed him, Mr. South was touched by his mother's faith -- and his own faith was changed forever. After meeting his future wife, he left the military, graduated from the College of Forestry in Syracuse and went into teaching.

He also told the story of St. Francis of Assisi, a rich playboy who turned his life around and founded an order of men who took vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Finally, he reminded them of the two criminals who were crucified alongside Jesus, and how one asked Jesus to remember him when He entered into His kingdom. Jesus replied, "Today, you will be with me in Paradise."

Next, the first talk by an inmate was given. Chris DiGiorgio delivered the Prodigal Son talk, in which an inmate compares his plight to that of the title character in the parable. As team members later would say, it was the best talk of its kind that they had ever heard.

Chris, 25, first read the parable to the residents and team members, and then told his own story. He grew up in Long Beach -- his accent is still quite noticeable -- and was very close to his family. Football was his forte, and he played well enough in high school to earn an athletic scholarship to college.

But school and sports gradually lost their luster, and Chris decided, "I can go out on the street and do what I gotta do."

That attitude soon landed him in the middle of a fight, which would cost him his freedom for the next eight years. When his family came to visit him in prison, it was the first time he experienced forgiveness for what he had done. Nevertheless, he was filled with rage and bitterness, and he sought revenge against the people who were partly responsible for his imprisonment.

On one occasion, he almost got into another fight in prison, but he backed off after someone told him the hate he was feeling toward others must have come from hating himself.

As time passed, Chris began attending Mass again. He had fallen away from the Church; but once he started going more regularly, he felt better about himself. "I started saying the Our Father," he recalled. "But I wouldn't sing -- too many people watching."

Chris gradually came to realize that by losing touch with his faith for so long, he never had sought God's forgiveness for his crime. After rediscovering the Lord in Mass and Scripture, however, Chris accepted the notion that his sin could be forgiven. "Christ erases it. He's waiting for you to come back," he said.

This first talk of the day by a fellow inmate prompted the most applause by the residents, and the team members were equally impressed. Mr. O'Connor remarked that he hasn't heard a better Prodigal Son talk in his life, a sentiment echoed by several team members.

At this point during the retreat, the residents and team members had got to know one another well enough that they not only sing the hymn "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus," but also decide to form a Conga line and follow each other in a celebratory dance.

Once everybody returned to their seats, inmate Scott Moore rose to give the metanoia talk. "Metanoia" is a Greek word that means "change of heart"; although this talk is similar to the Prodigal Son talk, the focus is not on forgiveness but on repentance. As Scott speaks, it is readily apparent that he has, indeed, undergone a metanoia in his life.

Today, he is an elder in the Protestant Church and has considered becoming a minister. It wasn't long ago, however, that Scott, 23, wanted nothing to do with God or religion and worshipped such false gods as alcohol, drugs and worldly possessions.

Growing up just outside Rochester, Scott heard more than his share of shouting matches between his parents; his mother gave birth to Scott when she was 17, and his father was an alcoholic. They divorced when Scott was just two. With such a dysfunctional family background, "my heart was cold, and I was soon laying the foundation for the walls that would set me apart from the world," he admitted.

When Scott was 11, his mother remarried, but he didn't like her new husband. Although he moved in with them, he drifted farther apart from his mother and stepfather. Lying and stealing became routine; fortunately for him, it was his mother and not the police who usually caught him in the act.

After Scott's mother kicked him out of the house, he moved in with his father, who continued to drink. His father eventually moved in with a woman, and Scott lived with them until she kicked him out. He then moved in with his grandparents, and that's when his drinking and marijuana smoking began to overpower him.

Despite his family problems, addictions and criminal activity, Scott somehow managed to excel in high school and at work. He served as vice-president of the student body and as editor of the school newspaper, magazine and yearbook.

In October 1992, Scott's world came crashing down. He was arrested on charges of burglary and assault. Although he worked out a deal with authorities that enabled him to earn his high school diploma, he was going to jail.

Just before he turned himself in to begin serving his sentence, he was hanging out with a beautiful girl named Debbie, who was a devout Christian. As they talked, Debbie told Scott that Jesus loved him. Those words remained with Scott as he started paying his debt to society, and his metanoia was underway.

Scott's parents and grandparents used to be the only people who meant anything to him, but that's changed ever since he began living a Christian life.

"Because I decided to follow Christ, I now have a connection that's worldwide," he said. He assists with religious services at Greene Correctional Facility and hopes to pursue ministry upon his release from prison. In addition, he looks forward to being reunited his five-year-old daughter, Stephanie. Although Scott's metanoia took place over several years, it's never too late for residents to encounter Christ, he told them.

"Change can't happen tomorrow. It can't happen overnight. It can start today," he says. "It is only by God's grace that I will be going home in four months."

His words touched the residents in the same way Chris' Prodigal Son talk had, and they clapped and cheered when Scott wrapped up his talk.

Another hymn, "Be Not Afraid," provided an interlude between the Metanoia talk and the Forgiveness talk, given by team member Jerry Van Alstine, a parishioner of St. Patrick's Church in Ravena. He begins by discussing sin and how he has sinned in his life. As a teenager, Mr. Van Alstine thought he was smarter than his parents, particularly his father, who never went to college and worked as a foreman at a paper mill. Although he didn't follow in his father's footsteps, choosing to attend college rather than work at the mill, he came to respect his father and realized how wrong he had been in his opinion of his parents.

"If anyone thinks he is not a sinner, his sins are so big and powerful he is beyond being honest with himself. Please be honest with yourself," he said.

Mr. Van Alstine then spoke about forgiveness and the importance of both seeking and granting it. Such forgiveness has been essential in making his marriage work, he explained, and the inmates need to forgive and be forgiven if they are to know Christ.

"We can continue to live in our sinfulness and fear, or we can accept forgiveness and learn to live in the freedom of God's love," he stated.

That led to an explanation of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, which the inmates soon will have an opportunity to receive. Reconciliation means "to restore to friendship," and Mr. Van Alstine noted that by receiving the sacrament, "we make peace with God, we make peace with ourselves, we make peace with each other."

He reassured the inmates that it doesn't matter how long it's been since they last received Reconciliation. "God doesn't keep score. God simply calls us to receive His love and His friendship," he said.

After John Estades, a team member, former inmate and a parishioner of St. Peter's Church in Troy, offered some additional words of encouragement, the Service of Ashes began.

Deacon South reiterated what was said during the Forgiveness talk and invited the inmates to reflect quietly about their biggest obstacles to accepting God's grace and changing their lives. He then asked each inmate to write his personal obstacle on a slip of paper and place it into a receptacle, where all the slips were burned as a sign of God's forgiveness. The ashes, which were mixed with ashes from Ash Wednesday, were then placed onto the inmates' foreheads in the shape of a cross.

It was then time for the inmates to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation, if they wanted to. They were encouraged to speak to one of the priests regardless of their religious affiliation and whether or not they wanted to receive the sacrament formally. Among the priests on hand were Rev. Edward Pratt, pastor of Corpus Christi Church in Ushers; Rev. Arthur Toole, pastor of St. Matthew's Church in Voorheesville; Rev. Frank O'Connor, administrator of St. Patrick's Church in Albany; and Rev. Joseph Romano, chaplain of Greene Correctional Facility.

One by one, the inmates sat down with the priest of their choice and experienced forgiveness on a personal level. With Mr. Amato strumming gentle music on his guitar, tranquility filled the room, and there was a sense that these residents were encountering Christ through their conversations with the priests and their quiet reflection afterward.

Upon completion of the Reconciliation, the Paschal Service began. The ashes were wiped away from the inmates' foreheads, and each inmate received a candle that he lit from the Christ candle, which had been lit at the beginning of the day. Deacon South then led the inmates in the renewal of their baptismal vows, and they seemed to respond in one common voice to the questions he posed:

"Do you reject Satan?"

"I do."

"And all his works?"

"I do."

"And all his empty promises?"

"I do."

Holy water was sprinkled on the inmates, who then proceeded to the front to receive white stoles with the Chi Ro sign, the first letters of the name of Christ in Greek. As a stole was placed on an inmate, the words, "On this day you have been freed from your sins. May you be clothed in the glory of the Lord," were recited over him.

One talk remained. Team member Rich Polsinello, a parishioner of Corpus Christi Church in Ushers, gave the Palanca talk, telling the inmates: "It's hard for you to imagine, but there are people praying for you outside these walls." These people also have written palanca letters (palanca is a Spanish word meaning "lever") that the inmates soon will receive as a way of lifting their spirits and providing a boost of support.

Mr. Polsinello continued with his emotional talk, discussing the pain of dealing with the loss of his friend and fellow REC team member, Guy Morone, to cancer, and his separation and reconciliation with his wife of 30 years. During those times, he experienced the power of palanca, just as the inmates were about to experience it.

"I tell you my story because people I didn't know were praying for me, just as people are praying for you this weekend," he said.

With that, the inmates received their palanca letters in colorfully decorated bags. The day wrapped up with the inmates and team members breaking into song once again, singing such tunes as "Alabare," "Joy Is the Flag," "This Little Light of Mine" and "Lean On Me."

The day's events had come to an end, but there was more in store the following day: more talks, more Scripture, more residents encountering Christ. For now, the residents headed to their dormitories for the night, and the REC team members departed for a nearby motel.

One inmate said of the first day of the retreat: "To me, REC is about being with God all day, forgetting about prison."

He summed up my own thoughts quite nicely. It didn't seem as though I'd spent the past 12 hours in prison. I was with a group of men who had sacrificed their time to bring Christ's love to others who so desperately were seeking Him out. It was a retreat similar to ones I've attended or heard about from others. The retreatants just happened to be prisoners.

As Mr. O'Connor pointed out when the day began, though,

"we are all imprisoned by one thing or another. No one is completely free."

It's true. We may not be confined by prison bars or barbed wire fences, but each of us is held back by something that keeps us from being the person God wants us to be.

(06-11-98) [[In-content Ad]]