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F e a t u r e A r t i c l e
CRIMINAL REHABILITATION—CATHOLIC STYLE
By RUSSELL FORD
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This Rock
Volume 5, Number 2
 February 1994 
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IF you want to know how to rehabilitate prisoners,
ignore the experts on the outside. Listen instead to me. I'm a real
expert, and I'm on the inside--because I'm a convict. I'm also
a convert. While on this side of the bars I converted to Catholicism
from agnosticism. Perhaps it seems bold to proclaim myself an expert
in the field of criminal rehabilitation, but I have
credentials the big shots can't claim to have.
As a zealous catechumen in 1988, at the insistent urging of our chaplain,
I began teaching the catechism to any prisoner who would
remain still long enough to listen. Since then I've taught the Catholic
faith to over two hundred prisoners, and I have been privileged to
be used by the Holy Spirit as an instrument to aid the conversion
of nearly a hundred of them.
Most of those converts are back on the streets. With
the exception of a very few, they are living the faith in their communities.
They are productive citizens and dependable members of their parishes.
Some of them even teach catechism. Best of all, they are men who have
embraced the beauty of truth, have had their souls cleansed of sin
in the purifying waters of baptism, have tasted the sweetness of Christ's
body, blood, soul, and divinity, and are now motivated to live for
a love of Christ and his Church instead of love for self. Ergo,
I am an expert on how the Holy Spirit uses sanctifying grace to transform
confirmed criminals into aspiring saints.
The only criterion for general judgment in all of Scripture
came directly from the lips of Jesus in the twentyfifth chapter of
Matthew. Jesus said we serve him when we serve the least of his brethren.
Among those he mentioned were prisoners. That's only logical, after
all, since he was himself a death-row convict. We find ourselves obliged
to serve Jesus in the guise of the incarcerated.
I believe that all good Catholics who have given it
thought are interested in carrying the truths of our faith to prisoners,
either actively or in a passive way. It's true that not everyone is
called to serve Christ in the evangelization of prisoners. No matter
how we serve him, the vocational graces for our apostolate must be
present if we're to be effective in service. Regarding the prison
apostolate, I believe graces are offered to many Catholics but many
fail to recognize the graces because the prison apostolate is foreign
to the thought of "freeworlders" or because they timidly
reject graces out of fear.
That free-worlders would have a fear of going into the
bowels of a prison is understandable, and I am the first to empathize
with people who harbor such fears. I was scared out of my wits when
I was incarcerated in 1987. I had the entertainment media image of
what convicts were like. I thought that every man in a prison uniform
would be a Charles Manson or Ted Bundy. I was wrong. Yes, violence
exists in prison, but the Mansons and Bundys, who are few, are segregated
from the general prison population because they are security risks.
I discovered that most prisoners are no different from me. They are
people who live in the midst of chaos and insanity while trying to
find a bit of order and inner peace. It is similar to the free world,
only more intense. In short, there is nothing to fear in working with
prisoners. Another aspect of fear Catholics experience over the idea
of a prison apostolate is that they have no idea how to go about evangelizing
convicts. I shall relate the most productive activity of i>our
apostolate. It's my hope that the reader will see himself carrying
out similar activities in a local prison.
To begin, it's vital to remember that the evangelist
can't convert anyone. Only the Holy Spirit can effect a conversion,
but he has willed to make evangelism a cooperative effort. It's the
task of the Catholic evangelist to present the truth in its entirety
and without compromise. It's the Holy Spirit's job to take it from
there. In many cases the evangelist will never see the result of his
efforts, but God persists in using the truths the evangelist teaches;
eventually the soul either accepts or rejects actual graces offered
for conversion.
As my confessor frequently reminds me, prayer is the
key to success. When I say "success" I do not refer to numbers
of conversions, but to the evangelist's personal growth in sanctity.
If an apostle does not pray daily while working, he will lose his
own soul. But numbers are important too.
Many times over the years I've heard people say, "I'm
not interested in numbers, but in teaching the truth and following
the lead of the Holy Spirit." I'm all for following the Holy
Spirit, but this is one lay evangelist who gets just a bit ticked
when such a statement is made about numbers. This attitude is so much
baloney you can top it with mustard and eat it for lunch. The person
who holds to it thinks Catholic truth lacks credibility, or he believes
he is being noble in some misguided way.
Although the evangelist must let the Holy Spirit worry
about who gets converted, he must convey the catechesis to as many
prisoners as possible. Numbers are important because each
number is a person (quite literally in prison!).
Each time the Church has gone into a new mission field,
it has begun its work by meeting the temporal needs of those to be
evangelized. The greatest temporal need prisoners have is to go free,
but prison authorities get upset with those who aid convicts in escape
plots, so sights have to be set lower.
The chow hall in most prisons is a chamber of horrors.
When convicts assign a name such as "blowed-up chicken"
to their entrees, you're left with a good indication that taste buds
and digestive systems are well abused. It's safe to assume you won't
go wrong in meeting the temporal need of chronic hunger. Most prisons
will allow a lay evangelist to bring in cookies, doughnuts, or cakes,
provided they are in factory-sealed containers. Once word gets around
that the nice, softheaded Catholic freeworlder puts on a bit of a
feed, he'll have a roomful of students.
We serve cookies purchased from the prison canteen,
and often a $1.75 investment has made a class standing-room only.
Here in Alabama prisoners receive a monthly gratuity of only one dollar,
so most can't afford dietary supplements from the canteen. Canteen
items ordinarily will not attract convicts who have financial support
from home, but it goes a long way with the rest of the fellows.
It fascinates me how many people criticize this practice.
They claim it's hypocritical for prisoners to show up just for the
snacks. That may be, but I prefer to refrain from judging these poor
fellows. Besides, I wouldn't care if the convicts think we're handing
out pardons, so long as they attend the classes. The prison evangelist's
job is to share the faith and plant the seeds for the Holy Spirit.
This method allows for that. Let critics be critical. When one of
these hungry fellows receives the sacraments of initiation, the holy
angels rattle the very foundations of heaven with their shouts of
rejoicing.
Do you worry about lecturing before a crowd of criminals?
Don't. We have that covered. Fr. Robert J. Fox, founder of the Fatima
Family Apostolate (P. O. Box 158, Alexandria, SD 57311), has produced
catechetical videos that were recorded before a live audience. The
series, called "Sharing the Faith," consists of 26 half-hour
lessons covering the twelve articles of the Apostles' Creed, divine
grace, the sacraments, and Catholic morality. As a teaching aid Fr.
Fox wrote a book called The Catholic Faith.
The chapters match the video lessons, but the written material goes
to greater depth. At the end of each chapter are discussion questions
their answers.
The most important reason for using the video series
is the age of the prisoners. When convicts begin to call this 36-year-old
instructor "Pops," it's clear they're youthful. This
age group is television-intoxicated. They do not read, and if I stood
before them to do what Fr. Fox does on video, they'd fall asleep--but
they keep their eyes glued to him on a television.
Most prisoners are only marginally educated, especially in state prisons.
The lower the educational level (here in Alabama the
average level is grade five), the greater the need to make learning
fun. It's for that reason we make a game out of every lesson, and
we stretch things out. For our group, each one of Fr. Fox's 30-minute
lessons takes 90 minutes.
We always start with an opening prayer that begins and
ends with the sign of the cross. I stress the sign of the cross because
of its evangelistic value. New students will not participate in this
sacramental because they feel awkward or are of Fundamentalist backgrounds;
still, they're attracted by a sense of the sacred. (Besides, it's
a wise idea to introduce students to authentic religious habits from
the beginning.) After the opening prayer two team captains are chosen.
They in turn divide the class in two by choosing teams. As you'll
see, competition is used as a teaching tool.
Next we offer pencils and paper to anyone who wishes
to take notes during the video, explaining that the winning team members
will receive prizes at the end of class. Then off go the lights, and
on goes the video. When the video ends we take a short break. The
prisoners get up to stretch their legs and get their cookies (and
coffee when I can afford it). Then it's game time.
Ours is a cross between College Bowl and Family Feud.
I ask a question from Fr. Fox's book. The first member of the first
team has fifteen seconds to answer the question. If he answers correctly,
a point is scored, and I move on to the next fellow on the same team
with another question. If he answers correctly within the same time,
another point is scored, and I move on to the third convict. After
that convict answers, I go to the second team. If any prisoner fails
to answer his question within the allotted time, or if his answer
is wrong, we automatically switch to the other team. The second fellow
who gets a shot at a missed question has only five seconds to answer.
If he answers correctly, we go on to one of his teammates. If he fails,
a third chance is not given. We read the answer and go to the next
question.
Prisoners live under stress that freeworlders can't
understand. We require a productive outlet for this stress, and our
little game provides that. Not only do the men become intensely involved
in the competition, but they also get loud and cut a lot of jokes
with one another. This helps to develop something that is foreign
to a prison environment: a sense of family unity. Our Catholic community--which
includes Catholics, catechumens, inquirers, and some who will never
convert but feel comfortable with us--is known throughout the
entire institution as a family. This also serves as a big draw.
During the contest there are frequent interruptions
for questions. Experience has taught me that a student's question
takes priority over all else. The answer to that one question may
be the decisive factor for the student's conversion. Of course, this
also means that the teacher quickly learns to become a good apologist
and a good student. (The teacher always learns more than the students.)
After the questions from the book have been exhausted
and the contest finished, we tally the score and announce the winner.
Each member of the winning team is given a prize, usually a snack
cake from the canteen. We close with a group prayer, usually the Our
Father (it seems to impress new students), and we conclude with the
sign of the cross.
Is there notable fruit generated from this sort of apostolate?
There is the positive benefit to society of the reduction of crime,
but it is the spiritual aspect that excites me. I could relate dozens
of stories about the spiritual fruits, but I will relate here the
one that most touched my heart.
One day a group of my brothers came to me to ask if
I would help them prepare for an act of total consecration to the
Immaculate Heart of Mary. Recently I had undertaken this consecration
myself, but they had no way of knowing that, so I knew it was Mother
who had called them to her Heart. I jumped at the privilege to help.
For our preparation we chose the 33-day format given by Louis Marie
de Montfort. Looking at the calendar, I realized that we could work
things out so that the consecration could be made as a group in public
when Archbishop Oscar H. Lipscomb was scheduled to be here for confirmations.
The only time we could all get together for our group
preparation was at 6:30 in the morning on the recreation yard, so
that's what we did for 33 consecutive days. Murderers, rapists, burglars,
drug dealers, and arsonists; these men sacrificed daily to meet for
the Mother of God. Each day they withstood cold, wind, rain, and ridicule
to prepare their hearts and souls for a total consecration to the
Mother of the Perfect Prisoner.
The big day came. Just before the apostolic blessing
at the close of Mass, Archbishop Lipscomb allowed the public consecration.
We filed past a borrowed statue of our Lady, each man stopping to
bow in her honor, and lined up before the altar and then knelt. Since
I led the consecration prayers, I couldn't see what was going on around
me. I was told later that the Archbishop and the priests who accompanied
him appeared to be fighting emotion during the ceremony. After all,
before them knelt thirteen hardened criminals, converts all, who had
become innocent little children at the feet of their Mother.
Russell Ford is incarcerated in Alabama. He
recommends a lay-run prison apostolate called Prisoners of the Perfect
Prisoner National Network (P. O. Box 672, LaFayette, AL 36862), which
offers a comprehensive Prison Apostolate Manual to
anyone who requests it. Its program is based upon the techniques outlined
in this article.
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