Here's a video of the sermon starting after the Scripture reading from the Classical Worship Service at Christ Presbyterian Church in Madison.
This month, we have been revisiting the adventures of the early followers of Jesus as they began to define what it would mean to live out the way of Jesus for them as individuals and for the them as a group that would become what we now call the church.
We heard about Peter and the Gentile Cornelius as the welcome widened beyond the confines of Judaism.
We heard about Stephen preaching the message of Jesus only to wind up getting martyred as a young man named Saul stood by. We now know Saul as Paul, one of the great interpreters of that message of Jesus.
We ran alongside the carriage of the nameless Ethiopian eunuch who Pastor Jessica named Baruch and watched the diversity of the early Christian community expand.
And we witnessed the conflicts at the Council of Jerusalem and learned that the challenges of change are nothing new – and that churches can work their way through them with the Spirit of God in their midst.
Today, we will go with Paul and his companion Silas to the city of Philippi, meeting a businesswomen named Lydia and other women at the river, freeing another woman from exploitation, winding up in jail only to have an earthquake set them free so they could return to Lydia’s home before going on with their adventures.
There were about 15 prisoners who were part of a restorative justice program and five us who were there for that morning’s session on masculinity.
We knew we could leave at the end of the day. They knew they could not. There would be no earthquakes that would shake the prison off its foundation like happened to Paul and Silas in that story we heard today.
There’s a song by Beyonce with these words:
Freedom, freedom, I can't move
Freedom, cut me loose
Singin', freedom, freedom
Where are you?
For these men, there is not freedom that will get them from behind these walls anytime soon. They search for ways to have the kind of interior freedom to sustain them behind bars.
This is the oldest prison in the state. The part of the building completed in 1854, built with prison labor, still stands. Of the 900 or so inmates here, about 60 percent have a mental health diagnosis. Some 92 percent are here because they were convicted of a violent offense. One fifth of them will be here for the rest of their lives. Thirty-five percent are white and they range in age from 18 to 79 years old.
Those are the numbers. But the guys sitting in this circle are not numbers, even though they each have a prison number, of course. They are men with names like Eric and Michael, like Antonio and Jason.
About half the guys in this group are becoming peer counselors – trained to help other inmates at challenging moments. The restorative justice program is designed to help them come to terms with the impact their crimes had on their victims and then to find that sense of inner freedom to move forward with their lives.
It’s not easy. As one man wrote after the session I was at, “It seems like we only get seen as objects, not humans who made mistakes, so thank you for coming.”
One of the most stunning moments of self-reflection came from an older man in the group who regretted not only his own crime, but the fact that he had led other young men to commit murders.
Later, he wrote: “I was once a facilitator of this toxic manhood model. It was how I related to being a fully-formed man. But in reality, I was nowhere near being fully-formed. The cycle must be broken, but it begins with information, insight and knowledge.”
The earthquake in his life came not from the ground shaking that opened the prison doors but from a slow interior shifting of awareness, to a sense that he could find freedom in embracing a different view of life and then reaching out to others in their struggles. That freedom was, in Beyonce’s words, cutting him loose to be himself.
Let’s go back to that story from the 16th chapter of Acts for a moment. It starts out in such a peaceful way – prayers by the river, a baptism of new followers of the way of Jesus, an extension of hospitality to Paul and Silas. I’d surely like to be part of that scene. I’ll bet you would too.
But as with real life, all does not stay peaceful. Paul and Silas encounter a woman who was being exploited by her owners – she was held as a slave – to make money for them. Paul freed her from that exploitation which ruined their scam and that’s what got him and Silas thrown in jail.
I was there five years ago as part of a small group from Domestic Abuse Intervention Services – DAIS – to receive a check from the inmates.
Jerome Flowers – at the time the Dean of Students at La Follette High School, and I were both volunteers in a men-as-allies program. Faye Zemel is the Director of Prevention and Systems Advocacy at DAIS.
We thought this was going to be a pretty routine event. Were we ever wrong.
The men at Fox Lake had a tradition of raising money for good causes. It’s not like they have a lot of money. In 2017 when this happened, prison wages ranged from a low of 8 cents an hour to a high of $1.50 an hour, with the average around 30 cents an hour. Yet through food fundraisers and outright donations, they had raised $1,000 for DAIS.
Keep in mind that many of these men grew up in homes where domestic violence swirled around them. Others may have been batterers themselves. This was sensitive territory.
What happened when we arrived at Fox Lake was extraordinary. It represented one way these guys found a sense of redemption and freedom even in the midst of imprisonment.
About 200 of the 1,000 men at the prison were in the gym when we arrived.
Military veterans formed an elaborate and disciplined honor guard to present the colors. Two men sang a jaw-dropping version of the National Anthem. Native American drummers played and chanted “Women’s Healing Song.”
A prison rock band concluded the afternoon with a poignant original composition called “Don’t supposed to be this way,” mourning the pain of domestic violence. “Love can never be the same,” they sang of the broken hearts.
Faye said afterwards, “When we talk about stopping abuse, we have to stop the cycle of violence. That’s what these men are working toward.” They were not letting the fact that they were behind bars limit their opportunity to seek new forms of freedom for themselves or for others.
Of course for the women or men trapped in a violent relationship, finding the path to freedom is not easy.
I should note here that talking about domestic violence can bring up some bad memories for some people. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 1 in 4 women and 1 in 7 men will experience physical violence by an intimate partner at some point during their lifetimes.
The odds are good that this has been a part of the lives of some people gathered here or who are with us online this morning. Please be aware of your own feelings around this and if you need to talk with someone after the service, please pull aside Pastor Jessica or Pastor Sharol or me.
When Paul said to the demons within and around her, “I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her,” he offered a model of what we as church can do when those among us are trapped and exploited, abused and hurt by the relationships in their lives.
We also need to be aware of what we as church ought not do.
I have known women who were told by their pastor to just submit to their husbands.
I have known women who were told that their marriage vows were forever so even though their husbands were beating them up, they should not leave.
I have known women who have been told that they should just forgive their abuser the way Jesus forgave those who crucified him.
All of those are incredibly dangerous distortions of what I understand our role as followers of Jesus to be. And when we fail to walk in that way of Jesus, the consequences can be deadly.
Let me just touch for a moment on those aspects of Christianity that sometimes get turned against people trapped in violent relationships.
One has to do with Biblical texts about the man being the head of the family. In our time, many of us see marriage as a much richer experience when partners relate to each other as equals, even if they take on different roles and tasks within a marriage.
Yes, I know that there are words in two of the letters attributed to Paul about wives being subject to their husbands. Guys who like to exert power over their wives love that verse. But nowhere do those texts give a man the right to physically impose his will on or to abuse his wife. It’s good to remember the rest of the words of Paul in the Letter to the Colossians, “Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them.” (Col 3:19)
Another has to do with the commitments made in marriage. I think we all share a common belief that the commitments we make to one another in marriage are sacred and not to be taken lightly. In some churches and for some individuals, those commitments can become handcuffs preventing escape from abuse, whether emotional or physical.
The core idea when we talk about this ought to be “God wants everyone to be safe.” Staying in a marriage when your life is threatened or your body abused ignores the reality of a commitment that is already shattered.
And then there is forgiveness. I see forgiveness as one of the central concepts of Christianity. It’s anything but a simple concept. It's not like flipping a switch. It’s not ignoring the harm that is being done to you. It is not a free ticket for an abuser. Nor is it something we ought to be imposing on victims as if somehow that will make them worthy in God’s eyes.
Closely related to that is the idea of reconciliation. Can’t they just work it out so they can be a couple again? Too many pastors counsel couples to stay together and work things out, but that will not work for the victim unless and until the abuser gets treatment, maybe not even then.
The survivor may have escaped from an abusive, threatening relationship, but her life has been totally upended. And along with the fear of the abuser and the anger at what has happened, there is also deep grief at the loss of what should have been.
As a community, we have some experience in helping people navigate grief. Let’s not lose sight of that.
Let me add just a few specific notes.
One is that if you know someone in violent relationship, offer them support but let them make their own decisions about the best way to deal with it. One of the riskiest times for someone in a violent relationship is when they try to leave.
That leads to the second note. DAIS has a 24-hour help line (608-251-4445) and a text option (608-420-4638). If you are wondering what you can do, call them. If someone you know is feeling trapped, urge them to call. And if danger is imminent, of course, urge them to call 9-1-1.
Notice how we began today with the stories of men in prison – some of them there because of violence they inflicted on others. The men in these groups are trying to free themselves from the demons of their past and create a better life for themselves and for those who love them.
So many people can feel imprisoned – sometimes literally, but also by whatever circumstances are trapping us on any given day.
“How much longer ‘til we sing a new song?”
asks a song from a project known as the Common Hymnal.
“A song of freedom now, a song to overcome.”
Paul and Silas made it out of their imprisonment. The woman who had been a slave was now free.
Our story ends with Paul and Silas going back to Lydia’s home, “encouraging the brothers and sisters there.” With freedom comes the chance to widen the circle.
With freedom comes the awareness of familiar words from South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who knew something about the costs of imprisonment and oppression and the hope that can carry us through it all.
Goodness is stronger than evil, he wrote.
Love is stronger than hate;
Light in stronger than darkness;
Life is stronger than death.
Victory is ours, victory is ours
Through Him who loved us.
Amen.
