is there a place for them

Sunday evening I visited the jail again with another lady, Tammy. We go to have church in an odd shaped, very cold room with any of the women who want to participate.

We arrange the chairs so that the atmosphere is very casual, no podium, just chairs in a circle. Misfits reaching out to misfits. Those who have found a hope trying to share it with those desperate for it.

Jail is where I experience the greatest church services. It is always real in that room. No one is concerned about appearance. No fake smiles. No cliques. Social status does not exist where everyone is dressed alike. With all masks removed, we're free to have church. We ask Him to show up and He does. I sometimes don't even know how to begin. But He equips us with the one thing we need, the Truth.

This past Sunday four women came. They are usually pretty desperate for a change. And just like the parable of the seed that Jesus spoke of, they all take the message differently. Some of them take the words that are spoken just for a short season and then let them go. Some of them don't seem to listen at all, they just want to get out of the living quarters for a while. Some of them want to change, but they are so trapped in bondage to lifestyles and friends who influence them that they go back to their old ways. But every once in a while, someones heart opens and they see their desperate need for a Savior and they long for Him. They see the hope in Him and that is what they run to. This happened last Sunday. The same woman I've seen a few times over the last couple of years...before when the seed of His Word was shared, she was not interested and other times she seemed to not understand. But this night, when confronted with the the message, she realized she needed to know for certain that she was one of His own.

Now everyone knows about jailhouse religion and I think I've actually seen it demonstrated myself. In a courtroom, when someone walks before the judge and proclaims they have started fresh and are now attending church, but I know they've gone back to their old ways. They just think the church word and starting fresh may sound convincing enough to gain some leniency. Thankfully both of the judges I've listened to, pay no heed to that. But sometimes there are those who sincerely seek the Truth and they want to walk with Him. What do they do when they get out of jail?

I have asked this quietly to myself and in prayer over the last couple of years, never pleased with the answer. We invite them to come to church always. Most of them who come only come once and don't return. When I compare and contrast the jail church services with the church on the outside, I think I understand their hesitancy. Is there really a place for them? They are broken, scarred misfits who walk into a foyer where there are no sections for misfits or into a Sunday School class with no section for the broken. I am a broken, scarred misfit myself, but I do not even know how to show them that when I am at church. I have no problem sharing that with them in that odd shaped room in the jail, but at church even I find it hard to be vulnerable enough to let people see the real me...the me who is broken and scarred and certainly does not fit well in many crowds. Instead I find myself struggling to find a spot and opting shamefully for withdrawing quietly into my own well chosen area where I feel safe. How will I reach out to them when they come if I'm not even sure I belong sometimes? I think there are many people in church like that. I know it causes me to appear uncaring and self-absorbed. The ladies in jail interpret it as judgemental and hypocritical. That's why they say they don't want to come. How do we tear down those kind of walls that so many church members, like me, are responsible for putting up?

Their desire to come to church is very real sometimes, but in a church they are seeking a safe place...a house of mercy. A place of acceptance. They have little to offer. They need more than they can give to begin with. They are babies in Christ and probably not ready to serve in many capacities when they first come. We reach out to minister to them, but do we really want them to come and be part of our congregation, can we learn how to open our arms and pull them in? I do not find myself courageous enough to know I can do this. I would love to go to church every Sunday in that odd shaped room. Very little is hidden there. Words are spoken freely. Scars are displayed with no shame because we all have them. Struggles are talked about because each one faces them. People are not afraid to be vulnerable because they know they are accepted. I do not experience freedom of that sort anywhere outside those jail walls and it leaves me wondering if I am mature enough in Him to even be ministering there.

For any one of you who periodically stop by this little blog, please take any time you would usually use to comment and pray for those women in jail. There really are some who want to follow the One who offers truth and life, but they find it so difficult to fit in the church.