It’s 11 o’clock at night in central Alabama, and Prison Fellowship staff have just returned to the hotel after an invigorating day of interaction with inmates, the PF donors who make our ministry possible, and the PF volunteers who carry it out. What a blessed experience! At Maxwell Prison, Chuck Colson preached to a packed chapel near the place he slept as a prisoner, and enthusiastic inmates gave him a standing ovation. But first, back to the beginning.
My plane descended into Birmingham from the north. As the city came into view, I saw snaking brown waterways, thick stands of woodland, and patches of exposed earth the color of burnished copper. Amidst the lush natural setting were golf courses, cozy suburban homes, and traditional churches. From the air, Birmingham projected an aura of modest well-being.
I couldn’t see anything resembling a prison.
Prisons are often hard to spot. As Chuck Colson likes to say, “Prisons are the tombs of our society.” As home to the most marginalized and feared among us, prisons are often far out of sight, and those who inhabit them are far out of mind.
Drawing Close to the Heart of God
But prisoners are close to the heart of God, and they’re also close to the hearts of Prison Fellowship donors.
After landing in Birmingham, I connected with Rich Westfall, Prison Fellowship’s talented and meticulous videographer. Together we drove to Montgomery’s Capital City Club for a gathering of Prison Fellowship donors, many of whom had traveled long distances to participate in this weekend’s prison visits. Afterwards, Chuck Colson would go directly to Maxwell Prison for a poignant homecoming.
At the reception, Colson recalled the night a fellow prisoner approached him in the Maxwell dayroom and said, “Big shots like you get out of prison and forget little guys like us!”
Those words haunted Colson after his release, and eventually led to the founding of Prison Fellowship. His passion for the ministry has not waned in the intervening decades.
As Colson prepared to return to Maxwell Prison, he said that he felt no apprehension—just gratitude and excitement for the assurance that the men now incarcerated at Maxwell have the same hope for the future that he did.
Before he left, the donors and staff gathered around Colson to lay hands on him and commission his return to Maxwell.
Chuck Preaches at Maxwell
Unfortunately, Prison Fellowship was not allowed to operate any recording devices on the campus of Maxwell Air Force Base, where Maxwell Prison is located. However, I was permitted to tag along with a notebook and a pen to record the historic visit.
Chuck, PF staff, and volunteers were ushered into a chapel filled to capacity with Maxwell inmates. To commemorate Good Friday, one inmate named Mike played a song that he had written on guitar. An inmate choir belted out hymns in tight, joyful harmony. And longtime chaplain Carlton Fisher introduced Chuck as the primary speaker.
The inmates gave him a standing ovation, but Chuck was quick to downplay any difference between the men and himself, drawing on their common experiences to share the Gospel.
“In prison, you begin to feel you’re not worth anything, but that’s not true!” he said, pacing the aisle in his shirtsleeves and tie. “God can reach down and change you. That’s the power of the resurrection.”
He also pointed out the similarities between prisoners and the thief on the cross, who Jesus forgave and promised a place in Paradise.
“Some church people tell me they don’t want to go into prison because it’s full of thieves and sinners,” said Chuck. “I ask them if they want to go to heaven, because the person standing next to Jesus there will be a thief.”
Chuck challenged the inmates to take the Gospel personally if they had never done so.
As the service closed, the inmates formed a circle, joined hands, and sang an a capella chorus of “Amazing Grace.”
“Tonight was great,” reflected an inmate named Fredel, who has been incarcerated for the last 22 years. “My excitement comes from watching a high-powered individual humble himself and come back in here.”
“When you’re locked up, it’s good to hear someone speak the truth,” added Larry, another inmate. “I was so happy to hear someone doing something good after prison. It’s so easy to give up. This encourages me that God can use the bad for good, just like he did through the thief on the cross. I can be the father, husband, and man God intends me to be.”
“I was thrilled to back,” said Chuck, though weary from a long day of travel and speaking. “It was a great night.”