The Spirituality of Prison (And/or Toddler parenting)

Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured.

Hebrews 13:3

"About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them."

Acts 16:25

I've been thinking quite a bit about imprisonment lately. Part of it is the social statement just approved at the ELCA Churchwide Assembly, which is a great and timely piece on a Christian model of restorative justice. I've definitely been thinking about Attorney General Eric Holder's move to eliminate mandatory minimum sentences for low-level, non-violent drug crimes, which have contributed to the United States' truly horrendous prison overcrowding problems. But the biggest piece, I think, is that imprisonment was an everyday reality for the first generation of Christians, and it had a deep influence on their spirituality.

The word "prison" occurs 81 times in the New Testament. The first few reference the imprisonment of John the Baptist, there are few passion accounts referring to Jesus himself as a prisoner, but the vast, vast majority of them refer to the imprisonment of Christian believers. It wasn't a remote possibility, but an assumption, that at some point a Christian believer would get thrown into prison.

What I take from this, aside from once again being reminded of the "cushy Christianity" that we've gotten way too used to over the last few hundred years, is that Christians were constantly aware and praying in solidarity for those in prison. I think we could stand to regain some of that: That's why I'm so proud of Salem's partnership with St. Dysmas, a Lutheran congregation worshiping in Maryland correctional institutions. Solidarity with prisoners is a mark of Christian faith.

But another piece that may be more or less relatable at our own point in history, is that with solidarity came with preparation: to quote the TV theme, "Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?" Jesus briefs his disciples on what to do and say in the event of their arrest, trial and imprisonment (namely: don't over think it; the Holy Spirit will take care of it), and sure enough, they find themselves having to remember his words within a few weeks after his death and resurrection. And what they end up doing is interesting.

Acts 16 talks about Silas and Paul singing hymns to God while in prison, and getting the attention of the other prisoners. In addition, a good number of Paul's letters are written from prison. The time where physical freedom is curtailed becomes the time to reflect on the spiritual freedom you have all the time. You go into an empty room, you can't leave, and the spirituality you bring with you depends on where your heart and mind has been up to this point.

Let me clarify: It is my sincere hope and prayer that no one reading this will ever have to deal with being literally imprisoned, least of all unjustly. But we do have our piddly, minor little hassles that make us feel less free than we'd like. The cashier's line at the grocery store. The traffic jam. A doctor's or mechanic's waiting room. Or perhaps, as this somewhat ridiculous blog post suggests, the overall experience of parenting a toddler. In those short moments of captivity, those empty cells of our lives, what do we bring with us? How much of what's important to you do you know by heart? Bible verses? poetry? Prayers? Song lyrics? If you had to write a letter from here, to whom would it be addressed, and what would you have to say?

For Laura and me, the most common "prison" like experience is laying with Soren at bedtime, captive to his restlessness, waiting for his little eyes, to close, his breathing to deepen, and "grown-up time" to begin. And as with many of those other "mini-prisons", it's easy to get bent out of shape if I dwell on the lack of freedom, the injustice, the precious minutes of evening that are being taken from me. But what I've started to do instead is to run a Bible verse in my mind--word by word, as slowly as possible--and do a mental Bible study. Later on, I might post one I worked on yesterday.

Freedom--physical or spiritual--is not a given for all God's children, and it ought not be taken for granted. Let's use ours to the fullest.