“I have never been prouder to be a Southern Baptist.”
Words in response to a particular action of the Southern Baptist Convention,
or the Louisiana Baptist Convention? No. They are the words of a prison chaplain
who has watched in amazement as volunteers from Louisiana Baptist churches have
opened their lives, pocketbooks and time cards among the inmates of Louisiana
State Prison at Angola.
Words in response to a particular action of the Southern Baptist Convention,
or the Louisiana Baptist Convention? No. They are the words of a prison chaplain
who has watched in amazement as volunteers from Louisiana Baptist churches have
opened their lives, pocketbooks and time cards among the inmates of Louisiana
State Prison at Angola.
Part of the purpose of our penal system is to remove from society people who
have committed crimes. The Louisiana penal system does that well when it sends
men to Angola. Angola is about as far from the rest of society as it could possibly
be in our state. The vast prison ground is at the end of the road, figuratively
and literally. State Highway 66 goes east off Highway 61 just south of Saint
Francisville and dead-ends 20 miles later right in the middle of a giant bend
in the Mississippi River that forms the borders for much of Angola.
“Out of sight, out of mind” befits this place. Angola and the people
there are easy to forget. No one drives by this prison colony – no one.
And the only words from Angola come when something powerfully negative –
like an execution or prison riots – happens.
But the 5,100 inmates are not “out of mind” for many men who find
their ways over the isolated highway to the prison gate and enter to serve.
These volunteers travel there most weeks of the year. They pay to go. Not only
do they pay their travel for the 100-plus miles round-trip, but they usually
provide refreshments for the workshops they lead and sometime workbooks for
the inmates. These man who were primarily laymen lead a vast array of workshops
and seminars that help the inmates develop a healthier relationship with God
and others.
But Southern Baptist involvement in Angola ministries, as remarkable as they
are, does not stop there. One wonders what the reaction of most visitors to
the prison must be when they see the sign “New Orleans Baptist Theological
Seminary” attached to a building right in the middle of the prison, surrounded
by chain-link and razor wire. It is no joke: It is a legitimate on-site campus
of the Southern Baptist seminary located in our state. The extension is there
to provide accredited bachelors degrees in Christian ministry to its totally
inmate student body. Do not think this is a “dumbed down” version
of a degree. The curriculum is the same as required in New Orleans, with some
of the same teachers, with the same high standards – and the students
minds are as sharp as the razor wire around the building.
Why? Why do they volunteer? They give many reasons for going the first time.
But they all seem to say after that, they keep coming back because of the great
love they develop for the inmates, and because going there is certainly one
of the most rewarding endeavors of their lives.
The results of these long-term ministries are hard to gauge with scientific
exactness. Some insiders will point to the marked decrease in inmate suicides,
assaults, murders and riots since the programs have been provided. Others will
point to an overall improvement of inmate and employee morale. One inmate said,
“We are having a real revival right here in Angola. People are getting
saved and serving the Lord.”
Angola is still a prison that houses inmates judged to be the most dangerous
men in the state. They are not here because they talked during church choir
practice. Their offenses are grave. There is a sizable group of men awaiting
their appointment with the executioner. A prison guard was murdered by inmates
last year.
But there is a difference in the hearts and lives of a growing number of inmates.
As the article beginning on Page Five reports, for an increasing number of inmates,
there is hope. Some of the inmates say there is a revival sweeping Angola.
Editors do not have many opportunities to get out into the field to gather
material for features. But when T.W. Terral, director of missions for Judson
Association, told me about what Judson Association and other Louisiana Baptists
were doing to minister in Angola, it was obviously the kind of story I wanted
to do. Thankfully, I was able to do it.
The experience reminds me that inmates are human beings. Some have made mistakes,
others purposefully did terrible things to other people. But they are human
beings created in the image of God. Being among them shatters stereotypes of
what it means to be a prisoner. I could not help but think that except for some
very narrow turns and scrapes, except for meeting the right person at the right
time, most of us could be there with them. As the great 19th-century English
pulpiteer Charles Haddon Spurgeon is reported to have said as he watched a man
walking to the gallows, “There but by the grace of God go I.”
While stories of church fights and argumentative business meetings make the
rounds, and you are embarrassed they were done in the name of Baptists, remember
there is something better for which to be known. Participating in ministries
like those going on in Angola could help us all say, “”I have never
been prouder to be a Southern Baptist.”