'Who you become is more important'

Sitting outside in masked, pandemic style, I recently asked some of my sisters involved in criminal justice ministry to share reflections on their experience.

All had backgrounds in education and administration before they had chosen to work with those transitioning from prison. Accompaniment of those who had been incarcerated was the context of our sharing.

In our faith sharing, we focused more on how this ministry called them to change, rather than on what they had done. This perspective became the focus of our conversation.

School Sister of Notre Dame, Mary Margaret Johanning had once welcomed me to a new ministry by saying:

"Who you become here is more important than what you do here."

Here are a few ideas from the six sisters responding.

Rose (15 years in that ministry) said: "When I listened to stories of the crimes an inmate suffered before committing a crime himself, I began to understand how hurt begets hurt. And I am careful of the hurt I've received, knowing my hurt can beget hurt."

Carleen (17 years) shared: "I wasn't sure my claustrophobia would allow me to visit prisoners. To test my strength, I asked to visit the St. Louis Work House to see if I could handle the clanging of gates and waiting for the next one and being caged in."

Meeting inmates and learning from their hope, she conquered some of her fears and spent 17 years in criminal justice ministry, where she initiated hiring ex-convicts as case workers. When a case worker sat down to interview a new client and the man said, "You don't know what it's like to be leaving prison," the caseworker surprised him by sharing his story.

Geraldine (11 years) told of meeting someone who needed a bus ticket to Columbia, Missouri, and when he received it, his comment was: "I've got to make it right this time."

"Sometimes the simple gift of a backpack, with a toothbrush, and other essential items, valued at $10, was a lifeline for a few days. Knowing that he could find help in the midst of transitioning from prison life meant much."

"It's all about the mission of Jesus," Geraldine said with conviction. "Visit prisoners, clothe the naked and feed the hungry … this is what we do."

In her recognition of hearing loss in herself, she said, "We all have a limited time to carry out the mission of Jesus. So make the most of the time we have by helping others get a second chance at life."

As our faith-sharing continued Elaine (17 years) said she was "awakened" to a whole new world and gave these examples:

• "I didn't know people that didn't eat every day."
• "When taking a woman shopping for kitchen supplies, I suggested a new coffee pot; later I realized the woman didn't have enough money to buy coffee."
• "I kept in touch with this single mom who now has raised two boys and has a full-time job with health benefits."
• "I felt humbled by the woman's patience as I recognized her reality."
• She rejoiced with Ron who has recently been told he will be released from prison after serving 33 years; he had been convicted as a juvenile. His desire to change his life was evident, and she noted he had been in her meditation class for five years.

Millie (6 years) said: "My journey with people in prison began with participation in Residents Encounter Christ retreats for both men and women." Tears accompanied her sharing of memories as she recalled some of her family members who would make racial comments when she was a child. Later she recognized the institutional racism of her small town.

Eventually she became a receptionist at Criminal Justice Ministry, a re-entry nonprofit in St. Louis, and, even though an introvert, learned to accept and trust those she met. As she grew in her respect for others, she felt joy in meeting them. "I often learned from listening to former inmates who would mentor one another. One comment touched me deeply: 'I made up my mind never to go to prison again.' "