General Conference opens with hope
Personal ministry makes disciples
UMC formally admits Ivory Coast
Madam President, Mama President
Church retains stance on human sexuality
Pain and protest: A Good News response
Young people: a church to call home
Doubts arise following cellphone gifts
Sometimes a cellphone is just a cellphone
Deeds, not words, make disciples
Former abortion clinic owner shares story
U.S. Christians don’t feel persecution pain
Moved by the “water and the Spirit”
Church key to fighting AIDS crisis
Episcopal address focuses on hope
General Conference tackles global issues
Points of order, points of grace
CONFERENCE COMMENTARY
United Methodist teambuilding: Acevedo
Looking to the future with hope: Hamilton
Priorities transcend differences: McCurry
The dilemma of 3 Simple Rules: Reisman
COLUMNS
Editorial Reflections on the 2008 General Conference
RENEW Women’s Network Aftermath
Culture in View To Be a Friend of Caspian
Next Generation Responding to Speakaphobia
The Great Commission Brokenness
From the Hear Prison Praise
January 12, 2008 turned out to be one of the most wonderful days of my life. When the invitation first came, I was apprehensive. The nod had been given by the chaplain and wardens of a maximum security facility for women in our state for me to offer a five session seminar on my book, More. I couldn’t have imagined how magnificently God would display his splendor. It wasn’t about my teaching ability and it wasn’t about how the prisoners responded. His presence permeated the place. It was about Jesus Christ. We all went away saying, “We have seen remarkable things today.”
We entered the first metal detector and the first set of sliding bars. As we continued across the yard, I remembered my question to the regulars in this ministry: “What is the heart need among the inmates?” They all replied: “Hope.” So, as we entered our first time together in the Word, I assured the prisoners: “God is the source of hope, so, to receive more hope, we must know more of him.”
We began in Isaiah 61:1-3. The questions a journalist would ask—who, what, how, why, and when—became our focus. Six different types of people emerged in the beginning lines of the Scripture. The poor. The brokenhearted. The captive. The prisoner. The mourners. And, those who grieve. Each individual identified which of those types of people was most like their own life. The inmates saw themselves in many of the categories and we all agreed that there are many on the outside that are in more bondage than they are.
The what God did for the people on the pages of Isaiah’s book was not only informative, but transforming and hope–full. He preached good news to the poor. He bound up, or bandaged, the brokenhearted. He gave the captives freedom and released the prisoners from darkness. He comforted those who mourned and offered provision for those who grieved.
God then addressed how he would accomplish his desire and purpose in each life. It was to come through some magnificent exchanges. Beauty for ashes. Gladness for mourning. Praise instead of grief. Ashes are what are left over after something has been burned up. Mourning is a dark night of heaviness, pushing one’s head down and causing the shoulders to sag. And, a despairing heart eats at the soul, inviting hopelessness. But God wants to offer beauty, joy, and praise in their place.
To be sure we all got it, God offered pictures of each exchange. The three highlighted are a crown, oil, and a garment. A crown is for a king and signifies authority and favor. Oil oozes. When it flows, it permeates; it doesn’t just touch the surface. A garment can be put on—or off—easily. So the crown of beauty turns us commoners into subjects of the King, even amidst the ashes of our lives. It’s a true Cinderella story. The oil of joy was meant to permeate us, causing the grip of mourning to slip right off of us. And the garment of praise was intended to be put on to refashion despair.
Then, it occurred to me. What God was offering us was himself! The crown is for the King of Kings. Jesus. The oil is a known symbol in scripture for the Holy Spirit. And, God the Father clothes us with robes of righteousness fulfilling his longing to cover us. Hope came as God offered himself to us.
The why and the when concluded the study with applause for the Most High. We were to be “oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor” (Isaiah 61:3). Even in prison. And, it was to happen in “the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God” (vs. 2).
What then occurred inside that prison was remarkable. The gospel choir began to sing; first, “I’ll Fly Away,” and then “Holy Spirit Rain Down.” In the middle of the second song, God did just that. He came down. He stooped. He met us. Workers and inmates alike found themselves on their knees, unable to stand, hands raised, tears streaming down their faces.
Some cried quietly. Some wailed. It was easy to love one another. I held a woman in my arms for a long time who had murdered her mother. Some confessed. Some testified. Teenagers. Grandmothers. Convicted felons all in prison garb and all reaching to the Savior who reached to them first. Jesus revealed himself to one of them for the first time. Twenty recommitted their lives.
This same hope is offered to you and me. Perhaps you are the one who is poor or brokenhearted or held captive or mourning and grieving. God wants to speak his word into your heart. He longs to bandage your wounds, to set you free, to comfort and to provide for you. Come to him. “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:13).
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