Neil Diamond and I Go to Jail

After an early morning drive across most of Virginia, I pulled into a small parking lot shaded by ancient oak trees. Across a two lane street, there stood what appeared to be a church. Massive columns. A steeple. The aged red brick had every indication of being a place of worship. But I knew it was something far different.

I approached slowly. Each step showing the aging bricks were more than meets the eye. If the bars over the door were not a good enough indication, the razorwire left no doubt.

We approached heavy iron gates. Freedom on our side. Something different on the other.

Making my way through security, a series of gates opened letting me into the yard. I was on the inside.

Jail.

Scattered across the yard were men of all shapes and sizes. Some exercising. Some chatting. Others in their own world. Almost to a man, they smiled and nodded as we walked by. With each passing face, I felt more and more comfortable.

We entered another aging building finding a classroom where we were met by a group of men who are involved in a Prison Fellowship program that focuses on Biblically based character development.

There was something heart warming about offenders of all ages walking into the room with Bibles, pencils, highlighters, and notebooks. As they opened the notebooks to their place for this week, I couldn't help but notice the the copious notes the pages contained.

As the speaker began, I almost feel the men soak up every last word. It didn't take long before I realized they were listening for their lives. They knew that every word was insurance against a lifetime behind bars. They admitted they had tried it before. Did their time. Came home different but the world around them was different.

What was different now was most of the men had found Christ.

For nearly three hours, my fellow interns and I listened and interacted with the men. Each side shared what God was doing in their lives. I'm not sure who got the most out of it.

I was proud to be part of Prison Fellowship. I was proud that everyday I work for a cause that fights for these men. I was proud to serve a God who can really change these lives.

After the class, one of the offenders asked the leader if we could join hands and pray. As prayers made their way around the chain, I realized the building surrounded by barbed wire was a place of worship. No one could take that away from these men.

Time to go. We made our way across the yard passing a separate group of men on a prayer walk. As we passed through the gates into freedom, I was overcome by the reality of the fact that I could leave.

In physical terms, I was free. But I knew that inside those men were too.