What is written below are observations from a life-changing visit to the Angola Prison in Louisiana in August of 2006. Angola was once the bloodiest prison in America, if not the world. But through efforts by Warden Burl Cain to bring "moral rehabilitation" to the prison, through the gospel of Christ, there has been a radical turn-around.
During our 2006 trip, here is what we saw and heard:
We saw HOPE from the moment we entered prison grounds. We saw men living out the principle of "forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead," as they pursue God's purpose for their lives and refuse to be hindered by what happened in the past. We saw what the gospel looks like as we observed men sacrificially serving us and each other, WITH JOY. We saw the gospel LIVED as much as we heard the gospel preached.
We saw joy and biblical wisdom flowing from a Death Row inmate named "Shorty," who is the next man scheduled to die by lethal injection. We saw the death chamber where men have been executed while holding the hand of Warden Burl Cain until an angel takes their hand on the other side. We saw a man with a horribly violent past, who recently only knew about hatred and indifference, who has since experienced the reality of Jesus Christ, and who is now one of the humblest and gentlest men of God anyone will ever meet.
We saw the future casket of Reverend Billy Graham, who requested his casket be crafted at Angola by men who have radically experienced the Jesus whom Graham has so faithfully preached. We saw the man who built Graham's casket, who says that Graham "wants a simple casket because he is a simple man who preaches a simple message."
We saw Manny Mill, burning with seraphic zeal, as he preached about an infinitely big God from the Portable Cross pulpit that was constructed by a lifer at Angola. We saw Bishop Tanniehill praying powerfully in the name of Jesus and enjoying a purpose in life that he probably never would have experienced if his path to the Kingdom of God had not gone through Angola.
We saw the wisdom of a Bible college that has equipped hundreds if not thousands of men to serve and minister to their neighbors. We saw the industrious purpose behind the world famous Angola Rodeo that allows prisoners to market their amazing works of art to a public ready to receive them. We saw the humanity of a hospice ministry that allows the men to die in dignity as bearers of the image of God.
We saw the sacrificial giving of men who earn four cents a day as they hand-crafted a beautiful gift for the wife of a man who was responsible for bringing Christian radio to Angola. We heard the same sister in Christ, astounded by their generosity, thanking them for how they give, and give, and give.
We saw that the more radical the love, the more radical the joy. We saw true freedom in men who will spend the rest of their lives behind bars. We saw prisoners as people as we enjoyed chocolate chip cookies with redeemed murderers at 9:30 at night.
Above all, we saw the ABSOLUTE REALITY of Jesus Christ, crucified, risen, and reigning powerfully in the lives, in the hearts, and on the faces of men whose hope, in an otherwise hopeless place, can only be explained by the truth as it is in Jesus.
We saw so much more. But there is a taste. If you doubt the reality of Jesus Christ, I would encourage you to spend a few days in Angola prison. You will see Him there.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Coincidence?
July 16 was my Grandpa Ralph's birthday, and it's also the most significant day in my life. The question: are the events surrounding that date merely a coincidence? Or something more? You decide. But first, some background.
Grandpa Ralph was as close to the ideal grandpa as you can get. He was funny, loved to joke, and took an interest in everything that his grandkids were involved in. We all loved to spend time with both he and Grandma. The memories we have of spending time with him is one of his great legacies to us.
But his faith was his greatest legacy. In the summer of '92, he received the cancer news and realized that his remaining days on earth were few. Although he had lived a full and honorable life, he realized there was Someone missing. He asked the minister "is it true that Jesus Christ can forgive my sins?" The answer, gloriously, was YES, of course. Grandpa humbly turned from his sins to Christ, and was forgiven. Though I may not have admitted it at the time, the obvious change in Grandpa opened my eyes to what real salvation looked like. Within a short time, it was clear that he had new desires and priorities. Jesus was now supreme in his life. As it is written, for Grandpa, "all things had become new."
The real test of faith is how it responds to suffering. Grandpa's faith proved true, "refined in the fire." It was said at his funeral that in the last year of his life, Grandpa endured more trials of faith than many Christians do over the course of a lifetime. A Christian for one year, "he fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith."
Perhaps the greatest evidence of his faith was what he told me while lying in a hospital bed in the summer of '93, only a few weeks before he departed to be with Christ. To the best of my knowledge, these are the last words that Grandpa ever spoke to me (and the best words he ever spoke to me): "don't forget the Lord." Those words were the first seeds that led to my conversion almost exactly four years later. For four more years, I did forget the Lord, and went my own way. But Grandpa's words conquered in the end.
During those next four years, there would be other seeds planted along the way, usually just simple words and kindnesses from His people whom He sent my way. But it all started with Grandpa Ralph, and the undeniable change that Jesus brought to his life. It seems that God wanted to honor Grandpa Ralph's faith and his impact on my life by granting me spiritual new birth on the very day of Grandpa's literal birth. Coincidence, or no? Consider the following:
It was now July 16, 1997. The Lord had been working in my life in major ways during the first six months of the year. He sent His people my way in various ways on the ISU campus. He impressed upon me the nearness of eternity, and the horrible danger I faced if I entered that eternity without a Savior. Then, decisively, He sent me the reality of the Resurrected Christ through my co-worker, Mike (who did not fear death), through the means of "More Than a Carpenter," by Josh McDowell. He opened my eyes to the truth of Jesus Christ, as risen in history beyond dispute, as perhaps best demonstrated by the radical change in the disciples: at first they were sheep scattered, but then lions for the gospel, martyred in death, but none would deny and all confessed "He is risen." The age-old "trilemma" was set before me: was He a liar, a lunatic, or Lord? Jesus claimed to be God, and so He left us no other options. The only reasonable answer to the trilemma: "He is Lord and God!" And I wanted Him in my life, for the first time.
So, with the help of a sinner's prayer in McDowell's book, around 11:00 pm on July 16, 1997, just before going to sleep in my college apartment, I went to God in a silent prayer, trusting that Jesus died for my sins and invited Him in to reign as Lord. That moment seems to be the one of genuine conversion, as things changed immediately. Many of the "old things" that I could not shake in my own power miraculously disappeared without effort. Over the next week, He made "all things new."
About a week later (at a time when I was not usually home), He knocked on my door again, through the means of old student government colleagues at my apartment door, who were sharing Christ. To them, for the first time, I confessed with my mouth "Jesus is Lord." Reconciliation occurrred that same night with one of them, a former adversary, who had dramatically come to Christ six months earlier and was now sharing his faith.
It was the absolute reality of the Risen Christ that God used to bring me to Himself. It was the same Risen Christ who had raised Grandpa Ralph to new life, which was so clear for all to see. So it was, that in literally the last hour of July 16, I embraced by faith the same Jesus whom Grandpa embraced in the last year of his life, on the day of Grandpa's literal birth.
Is this just coincidence? Or my own melodramatic recollection of events? Perhaps melodrama. But not coincidence. It's been said that there are no coincidences, just little miracles in which God remains anonymous. But here, God is not anonymous. He is everywhere, and I think He is honoring Grandpa Ralph's humble and genuine faith, and his willingness to share that faith all the way to the end.
If, as it is written, we "shall know them by their fruits," then we know what kind of follower Grandpa was, because he bore fruit and his fruit remains, even in this very moment. We should never underestimate the power of even a few simple words spoken on behalf of Jesus. Grandpa's was a life not wasted. Perhaps the best way to honor his faith is to live for and speak for the Jesus whom he loved. And the ultimate lesson, as Grandpa said, is simple: "don't forget the Lord."
Grandpa Ralph was as close to the ideal grandpa as you can get. He was funny, loved to joke, and took an interest in everything that his grandkids were involved in. We all loved to spend time with both he and Grandma. The memories we have of spending time with him is one of his great legacies to us.
But his faith was his greatest legacy. In the summer of '92, he received the cancer news and realized that his remaining days on earth were few. Although he had lived a full and honorable life, he realized there was Someone missing. He asked the minister "is it true that Jesus Christ can forgive my sins?" The answer, gloriously, was YES, of course. Grandpa humbly turned from his sins to Christ, and was forgiven. Though I may not have admitted it at the time, the obvious change in Grandpa opened my eyes to what real salvation looked like. Within a short time, it was clear that he had new desires and priorities. Jesus was now supreme in his life. As it is written, for Grandpa, "all things had become new."
The real test of faith is how it responds to suffering. Grandpa's faith proved true, "refined in the fire." It was said at his funeral that in the last year of his life, Grandpa endured more trials of faith than many Christians do over the course of a lifetime. A Christian for one year, "he fought the good fight, finished the race, and kept the faith."
Perhaps the greatest evidence of his faith was what he told me while lying in a hospital bed in the summer of '93, only a few weeks before he departed to be with Christ. To the best of my knowledge, these are the last words that Grandpa ever spoke to me (and the best words he ever spoke to me): "don't forget the Lord." Those words were the first seeds that led to my conversion almost exactly four years later. For four more years, I did forget the Lord, and went my own way. But Grandpa's words conquered in the end.
During those next four years, there would be other seeds planted along the way, usually just simple words and kindnesses from His people whom He sent my way. But it all started with Grandpa Ralph, and the undeniable change that Jesus brought to his life. It seems that God wanted to honor Grandpa Ralph's faith and his impact on my life by granting me spiritual new birth on the very day of Grandpa's literal birth. Coincidence, or no? Consider the following:
It was now July 16, 1997. The Lord had been working in my life in major ways during the first six months of the year. He sent His people my way in various ways on the ISU campus. He impressed upon me the nearness of eternity, and the horrible danger I faced if I entered that eternity without a Savior. Then, decisively, He sent me the reality of the Resurrected Christ through my co-worker, Mike (who did not fear death), through the means of "More Than a Carpenter," by Josh McDowell. He opened my eyes to the truth of Jesus Christ, as risen in history beyond dispute, as perhaps best demonstrated by the radical change in the disciples: at first they were sheep scattered, but then lions for the gospel, martyred in death, but none would deny and all confessed "He is risen." The age-old "trilemma" was set before me: was He a liar, a lunatic, or Lord? Jesus claimed to be God, and so He left us no other options. The only reasonable answer to the trilemma: "He is Lord and God!" And I wanted Him in my life, for the first time.
So, with the help of a sinner's prayer in McDowell's book, around 11:00 pm on July 16, 1997, just before going to sleep in my college apartment, I went to God in a silent prayer, trusting that Jesus died for my sins and invited Him in to reign as Lord. That moment seems to be the one of genuine conversion, as things changed immediately. Many of the "old things" that I could not shake in my own power miraculously disappeared without effort. Over the next week, He made "all things new."
About a week later (at a time when I was not usually home), He knocked on my door again, through the means of old student government colleagues at my apartment door, who were sharing Christ. To them, for the first time, I confessed with my mouth "Jesus is Lord." Reconciliation occurrred that same night with one of them, a former adversary, who had dramatically come to Christ six months earlier and was now sharing his faith.
It was the absolute reality of the Risen Christ that God used to bring me to Himself. It was the same Risen Christ who had raised Grandpa Ralph to new life, which was so clear for all to see. So it was, that in literally the last hour of July 16, I embraced by faith the same Jesus whom Grandpa embraced in the last year of his life, on the day of Grandpa's literal birth.
Is this just coincidence? Or my own melodramatic recollection of events? Perhaps melodrama. But not coincidence. It's been said that there are no coincidences, just little miracles in which God remains anonymous. But here, God is not anonymous. He is everywhere, and I think He is honoring Grandpa Ralph's humble and genuine faith, and his willingness to share that faith all the way to the end.
If, as it is written, we "shall know them by their fruits," then we know what kind of follower Grandpa was, because he bore fruit and his fruit remains, even in this very moment. We should never underestimate the power of even a few simple words spoken on behalf of Jesus. Grandpa's was a life not wasted. Perhaps the best way to honor his faith is to live for and speak for the Jesus whom he loved. And the ultimate lesson, as Grandpa said, is simple: "don't forget the Lord."
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