Finding More Hope in Prison Than Politics

“Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast [rejoice] in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast [rejoice] in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” (Rom. 5:1-5, NRSV)

This passage tells us how God grows his people: on a foundation of grace (1-2) and through a process of suffering which produces perseverance which produces character which produces hope (3-5). I’ve previously written about the endurance part of this process here.

It’s been seven years since I first began to give serious thought to the process of how God grows his people in the way described above: suffering produces perseverance produces character produces hope. The first three I got immediately but why does it stop with hope? Why is that the end-all?  Why not love or faith? And, what exactly is this “hope” that “does not disappoint?”

In meditating on these questions, I’ve long known that the biblical word for hope is not like our word; that is, expressing a faint-hearted belief we have little reason to believe will be fulfilled.  For example: “I hope our politicians on both sides of the aisle will conduct themselves with the dignity that becomes their offices and work together for the good of the American people.”

Yeah. Right.

No, in Scripture, hope is a “positive expectation of a future event” or simply “confident expectation.” Consider this excellent definition by British theologian, Alister McGrath:

“Hope, in its properly Christian sense, means a sure and confident expectation that what has been promised to us will finally blossom in all its wonderful glory.  It is a strong and positive theme, affirming the reliability of God who makes promises to us.”

My thoughts on why hope is the crème de la crème of Christian growth in the passage above coincided with a trip I made to Angola Prison December 2010, and again in April 2011. Angola State Penitentiary is one of the most fascinating places I’ve ever been and it was the highlight of my eleven-year career at National Fatherhood Initiative. One hour northwest of Baton Rouge, two hours northwest of New Orleans, thirty miles from the nearest town, and bordered on three sides by the Mississippi River sits the 18,000-acre Louisiana Penitentiary, the largest maximum-security prison in the United States.

At the time, of the 5,108 inmates incarcerated there, 86% were violent offenders, 90% were serving life sentences, and most were 60 years to life! Even today, Angola remains one of the most feared prisons in the country, and entering its gates often means little more than a prolonged death sentence. In the 1970s, Angola also had the reputation of being America’s bloodiest prison. In God’s providence, a warden by the name of Burl Cain came in 1995. Warden Cain, who served from 1995 until March 2016, was a savvy businessman, a Southern Baptist, and your typical southern gentleman. In demeanor and appearance, he came across a little bit like a country bumpkin. However, like Peter Falk’s character in the old TV show Colombo, he was a lot smarter than he looked!

Under his leadership, an amazing amount of “moral rehabilitation” took place associated with the inward man and Christianity. In fact, I’ve never seen the gospel so beautifully displayed as I did against the backdrop of Angola. You can get a feel for some of what I experienced by watching this five-minute clip from USA Today.

There I experienced unmistakable evidence of men who had been transformed by Christ, men who had a contagious fire and joy and a hope amidst hopelessness. It’s jarring to learn that 75% of the inmates at Angola will die there. In fact, typically after three years at Angola no one comes to see you except maybe a mom or a sister. Moreover, parole is repeatedly denied, and society regularly disappoints, and will not recognize even genuine transformation. So where does the hope come from that “does not disappoint”? For Christians at Angola, it seemed to come from two places:

  • Seeing the Holy Spirit make changes in them that society—despite its ability to disappoint with rejection—could not take away.
  • Seeing God use them in the lives of others. For example, because other wardens in the state wanted their positive influence to spread, some of Angola’s Christian inmates were sent out like missionaries to other prisons in Louisiana! Additionally, many of the fathers found hope in a commitment to change the legacy of their children, regardless of whether they, as an incarcerated father, ever got out or not.

It’s the same for you and me today. Why can we “rejoice in hope”(2)?

  • Like the believers at Angola, something is happening inside us—in the inward man— “our hearts.”
  • We find that our faith is not surface like the foam on the ocean. Whatever is happening goes deep. Christ is inside us and his love is cleaning house.
  • In that transformation, we see unmistakable evidence of God’s love “poured out in our hearts.” This, then, gives assurance of His love—because of what has been “given to us” (Rom 5:5).
  • What’s s more, we “rejoice in hope” as we experience the good works we were “created in Christ Jesus” for (Eph 2:10), which includes bringing God’s peace to others and polishing His image in them.

 

***You can hear the larger context this post is taken from by listening to a recent sermon I did on Rom. 5:1-5. Just go to this link and type in my name.