“When I was in prison, you visited me”. Matt. 25.43.

As I entered the corrections forensic facility on Easter Sunday, I was startled by a huge (to me, anyway!) young Croatian Catholic man calling out:

“Thank the Lord – the Church has remembered me!” 

This underlined for me the importance of following my call to serve as a chaplain to all prison inmates, be they Lutheran, other Christians or non-believers. 

For just over 11 years I had the privilege and blessing serving as a Lutheran Prison Chaplain. Prison chaplains work ecumenically – representing their denominations but serving people of all denominations within the confines, regimes and structures of correctional facilities. Some denominations prioritise chaplaincy programs and seek to provide professional pastoral care through their designated chaplains. During my time, I received many requests for – and agreed to have – students on placement from other denominations accompany me in some custodial settings (maximum security is not appropriate). It was imperative to consider the impact upon a student in this unique setting while simultaneously attending to the needs of the inmates. Sadly, not being ordained, I never received such a request from the seminary/ALC regarding a field placement for any of their pastoral students. Prison chaplaincy has at times been given to retired pastors with no previous prison experience, formal training in the field, or even CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) training. Yet it is one of the most challenging ‘fields of harvest’.

Many people probably perceive the prison environment as scary. It certainly is. The very nature of a correctional institution makes it a difficult space to navigate, and often has within its walls derisive attitudes towards Christianity on the part of both staff and inmates. It is paramount that a chaplain not only engages with and provides pastoral care to the inmates, but also correctional staff. Everybody benefits when a respectful and multi-disciplinary approach can be achieved. 

On many occasions, I would be asked, “aren’t you scared?”. Very rarely. My attitude was that God was always with me, even when witnessing violence. Prayer prior to entering a facility was essential. It was about handling unforeseen incidents as they arose, and above all, thinking on my feet. I do my work – God does His.

After entering through the security of correctional facilities, I would hear the buzzer and the unlocking of thick steel doors, and my world changed. 

I needed to adjust to an environment which is often confrontational, adversarial, and profoundly disempowering. Prisoners are subjected to strict regimes in each unique facility. As with many institutions, there is a distinct culture in each. That of an ultra-maximum-security facility differs from that of a women’s prison, which in turn is very different from that housing sex offenders. A correctional facility demonstrates an extreme “power imbalance”, especially between custodial officers and prisoners. Literature, research, and personal experience within Australia and overseas testifies to the phenomenon of the “power of the keys” (not to be confused with the Office of the Keys!): when staff are provided with what is considered the necessary equipment to do their job, such as handcuffs, batons and so on, in order to restrain a non-compliant prisoner, a ‘them and us’ mentality can easily come into play. Thankfully, there are officers who are kind and respectfully engage with the inmates, and this consequently changes the dynamics to mutual appreciation of each other’s circumstances.

Many Lutheran families, who have had no previous contact with the criminal justice system, are (understandably) completely overwhelmed by the traumatic circumstances they and their loved one are facing when the latter is apprehended, charged and taken into custody. Many cups of coffee have been consumed while supporting families of prisoners in nearby cafes. Explaining the reality and the daunting processes involved for their loved one with compassion and sensitivity can be excruciating. This includes the procedures during custodial, court and sentencing processes, as well as dealing with the prison system itself and the associated feelings of shame and stigma. I found that sadly, many Lutheran families were so ashamed that they chose not to disclose their ordeal to their pastor and absented themselves from worship services.

Following one Sunday evening chapel Service, a female prisoner who was serving a mandatory life sentence for murder was keen to discuss the possibility of forgiveness from God. She admitted to committing an horrendous crime. For this service I focussed on 1 John 1.8-9. I found these texts were congruent and worked harmoniously with the principles of restorative justice processes. She was having difficulty accepting that she could be forgiven. Eventually this “lapsed” Catholic asserted that she was better off trying to get her head around forgiveness and believing in God, and at the end of the day, if there was no God, it wouldn’t do any harm believing. 

There were humorous times as well. It was common when leaving a facility that an individual would say, “good-bye, see you next week, I’ll be here, I’m not going anywhere for a while!”

My role sometimes included playing the piano or organ for chapel: ‘Amazing Grace’ was a much-loved choice, but sometimes I found I was about a half a line behind the enthusiastic singing!

The women sang beautifully in the women’s prison. In another evening service, the women began to sing and a nearby resident decided to play her own music very loudly. One of the women (a dear Lutheran), belted into the adjoining wall and yelled, “Shut up, we are trying to have f_____ Church!” The loud music stopped: mission accomplished! I continued playing and we proceeded as usual!!! A beautiful service with communion. 

Tattoos are plentiful within the prison system. I actually have a tatt on my forearm applied years ago by a friend’s now deceased son, who was a Finks bikie. It depicts a cross intertwined with a Luther rose – a constant reminder for me that ‘It is by God’s grace that I am saved through faith in Christ Jesus’. At one time, I was preparing the elements for communion especially for four Lutheran guys upon request and my sleeve crept up and a glimpse of my tatt was exposed. The guys were intrigued that the chappy had a tatt. It transpired that none of these guys had a tattoo!!

I always carried a few relevant tracts from the Lutheran Laypersons League inside my little Bible in the various facilities: Some male prisoners, however, thought that Lutheran Laypersons was a Christian brothel!!!!

I was truly blessed by God throughout my prison chaplaincy, with its inviting challenges and opportunities. I was fortunate to attend an International Prison Chaplains Association’s conference in Canada in 2005 and presented a seminar on caring for forensic Inmates. Not only was this a valuable and educational experience shared with chaplains from all parts of the world, but I was also thrilled that an ordained Lutheran woman, Rev. Birgitta Winberg, from Sweden, was elected President of International Prison Chaplains’ Association.

I loved my prisoners with their idiosyncratic attitudes and behaviours. Their values were interesting! I met some delightful people – good people who made bad choices, as well as some of the truly scariest people who refused to accept responsibility for the harm they had caused. I often heard “my crime isn’t as bad as yours.” When taken into custody initially, everyone considers themselves innocent, or that it’s someone else’s fault. It is imperative for the chaplain to walk on the journey with a prisoner from apprehension through to sentencing, as each phase contains a different dynamic.

On reflection, my calling into prison chaplaincy was a quiet evolution. I had completed criminal justice studies as part of my B. Soc. Sci. and this led to my working as a community corrections officer supervising parolees and persons on community service orders. This was followed by a period at a non-government agency supporting and advocating on behalf of prisoners’ families, including in the courts, and mostly allied to child protection issues. After being introduced to a Uniting Church female chaplain, (who was in the most senior position of Principal Chaplain of Correctional Services at that time), she told me she was hoping to appoint more chaplains and a Lutheran female chaplain would be ideal. She emphasised that this position was a specific calling with a requirement of undertaking clinical pastoral education studies. 

This was the beginning of my journey as a prison chaplain. I feel truly blessed to have been given this call, and at least initially, able to fulfil it. However, I was unable to be considered for the key role of principal chaplain following the retirement of the previous principal chaplain (Uniting Church), as the position required that incumbent be ordained, and the LCA/NZ does not ordain women. There are so many women in our church with a call to serve in many different places – not just the pastoral ministry of a congregation – and who have been and are continuing to be blocked because they cannot be ordained.

The continued undervaluing and failure on behalf of some to accord mutual respect and dignity to women, and the work they undertake within the LCA/NZ is a monstrous indictment on the current church. The core values and ‘construct’ of the church desperately need to shift from fruitless arguments about ‘right theology’ to a full embracing of the values and love from our Saviour.

Or the harvest may die before we get to it.