[ hold :: this space ]

This video was shot by Jenn Ackerman in a US prison… it could have been shot here. It’s hard watching, but it tells the right story - the feeling i get in my gut when i watch it is the same feeling i get when i go into some of the prisons here. There’s some text that accompanies the video. you can read that here.

Trapped: Mental Illness in America’s Prisons from Jenn Ackerman on Vimeo.

In our research into communal justice we’ve heard of judges here in Victoria who have been giving prison sentences to people with mental illness because there is no other way they can get them access to mental health services. That’s an indictment on our community.

The three areas we’re focussing on with the communal justice project are mental health in prison, alternatives to sentencing, and post-release support. One of the reasons i value being part of a denomination is that we have some voice within political circles. Maybe, just maybe, that means we’ll be able to influence some policies about all of this.

The thought that echoes through my mind as i watched the video is the same one that i have each time i go into a prison… we all have only this one fragile, precious life… it is unspeakable tragedy that this is how someone’s unfolds.

Due to the vagaries of the prison system [we can't get access for the whole group into Marnganeet prison] we’ve changed the location of sunday’s gathering for those in port phillip west who are wanting to take the communal justice stuff another step. We’ll now be meeting at Werribee UCA, cnr Synott St and Duncans Road at 2pm. We’ve got in touch with everyone who had registered, but as numbers are no longer limited, feel free just to turn up on sunday afternoon. Email if you want more details.

a few things coming up…

the newly formed communal justice network from Port Phillip West presbytery will be meeting on July 13 at Marngoneet Prison, near Lara. We’ll be sending information out about this tomorrow to the people who indicated interest at the workshop a few weeks ago. If others from the presbytery are interested in being part of this then let me know. Places are limited on the day - we’re going inside the prison, and we can’t get large numbers in - and we will need to know by the beginning of july.

we came up with an idea while in a meeting this morning. we’re going to give different prison chaplains passages from the gospel of mark [next year's lectionary gospel] and ask them to reflect on the passages as they speak into prison culture, and what the perspective of prison has to offer the passages, as such. i’m going to spend a day with prison chaplains in october facilitating this - i think we might be able to link it with some of the psalms that have been and are about to be written by people in prison, and some of the liturgies we’ve developed, and create a really useful resource… I’ve also said I’ll do a full easter in the women’s prison next year - Good Friday, Holy Saturday, Easter Sunday. It sounds fantastic in theory, in practice it terrifies me…

i was back at the women’s prison today where the new chapel and garden were being opened. the garden is going to be planted with biblical plants - pomegranates [perfect for molasses, i hear], figs, olives… wormwood wasn’t allowed because it can be used for some less than biblical purposes…

i was talking with the buddhist chaplain afterwards, and she talked about how the air is so different in the women’s prison to the men’s. She’s right. It’s not toxic. I don’t come out feeling suffocated, I come out feeling like I can breathe.

It was a multi-faith service this morning, which i always like… i like having to find the language that speaks beyond our truths. it always feels more honest, somehow. and much simpler.

a prayer for the opening of a chapel…

In this chapel are the elements of earth, fire and water.
These have been symbols, since time began, of the most fundamental realities of our world: that life is, at once, fragile and resilient.

They remind us of the things that are most fundamental about each of our lives:
We are human -
fragile and flawed,
needing a place to belong to and a people to be part of,
reliant on forgiveness and mercy,
dependent on the promise that life can begin again.

Because while earth, fire and water are the building blocks of the world,
they are only brought to life
by a breath of grace, of hope, and love.

So we gather today to bless this chapel,
to set it apart,
so that it will be a place where we can bring the stories of our lives -
the dirt, the pain and the promise -
and know that here they will be held and changed
by grace, hope and love.

A large amount of money was set aside for more prison beds in last night’s state budget… still more money for the court system, but I can’t find mention of any for alternative forms of criminal justice.

We have just over 96% occupancy in Victoria’s prisons at the moment. In the ten years between 1997 - 2007, the prison population in Victoria increased by 1750 to 4183 people [41.8% increase]. You’d think we must have had an explosion of crime in the state, but actually the rate of crime per head of population has decreased 23.5% since 2001.

The greatest increase in imprisonment is for those convicted of assault or motor traffic offenses.

[source: Statistical Profile of the Victorian Prison System, Department of Justice]

The mood and temper of the public in regard to the treatment of crime and criminals is one of the most unfailing tests of the civilisation of any country. A calm and dispassionate recognition of the rights of the accused against the state and even of convicted criminals against the state, a constant heart-searching by all charged with the duty of punishment, a desire and eagerness to rehabilitate in the world of industry of all those who have paid their dues in the hard coinage of punishment, tireless efforts towards the discovery of curative and regenerating processes and an unfaltering faith that there is a treasure, if only you can find it in the heart of every person – these are the symbols which in the treatment of crime and criminals mark and measure the stored up strength of a nation, and are the sign and proof of the living virtue in it.

Winston Churchill

There’s an excellent opinion piece in the Herald Sun today about the prison system and communal justice. It’s written by Father Joe Caddy, Catholic prison chaplain in Melbourne.

[that's a first from me! 'excellent opinion piece in the Herald Sun'!]

I’ve been reading prison statistics this morning over breakfast, in preparation for the communal justice workshop we’re running on May 10th. Over 85% of the prison population didn’t finish secondary school. It reminds me of some research I read earlier in the year which said that in many US states, projections about the number of prison beds required in 10 years are calculated using the current rates of illiteracy in 11 year olds.

I was reading the Transition from Custody to Community report last night, which describes the issues surrounding re-entry to the community in Victoria. It highlighted the problem that most information about transition programs is communicated via written resources. A large number of prisoners can’t read them.

The whole system is fundamentally flawed.

I had a good time at the workshop this morning - thanks so much to the chaplains for welcoming me in. If you ever get the opportunity to hang out with prison chaplains, grab it…

In the course of the conversation i realised i need to think more about how to create an environment in prisons that immediately make it obvious that people are coming into a different space when they come to worship - how to turn a room that, 15 minutes before, has been used for drug education or anger management sessions into a sacred space. It’s not just about aesthetics, it’s more atmospheric than that - creating an environment that gives people permission [incentive] to be present differently to how they are present in every other part of their life in prison, from the moment they walk in the door, even before we’ve said a word. We do that all the time with installations, etc - the moment people walk into a room they know something different is going to happen, and that they can be different in that space. It’s much harder in prison where you have so little control over the environment. i also think it’s more important in prison than in any other worship context i work in. We might play around with some ideas next time I go into the Marlborough Unit with Ross.

I confessed to my control-freak nature… i script every word in worship, including instructions - which is not my normal practice for anything else - i didn’t even have a workshop outline written down for this morning, just a vague idea in my head. People are much more likely to ‘lose’ themselves in worship if i’m not stumbling or searching for a word. My task as curator is to be guardian of the space - to make it safe enough for people to be vulnerable. They have to trust me for that to happen, and trust that i’m not going to take them somewhere that is too vulnerable or unsafe. They also have to not be waiting for my next slip up…

We used Alf’s Psalm in the gathering… i asked the group to read it through silently and find a line or two that particularly resonated for them. I read the psalm out loud, and people spoke alongside me when it came their lines. It was surprisingly moving and beautiful.

I also used this prayer, which i’ve put up here before

this is a holy space and a sacred time
not because god is here in any special way -
god is no different in this place
to anywhere else -
but because we are here in a special way

in this space and time
all of who we are
is welcome

so bring the broken, darkest parts of you -
the parts which strive to be beautiful
and those which are nothing but flawed -

put them next to mine

as together,
in this holy space and sacred time,
we let them be shaped
by god.

welcome to worship.

As part of the communal justice project, we’re beginning to roll out a series of workshops around presbyteries in Victoria. The first of these is on May 10th at Werribee for the Port Phillip West presbytery - there are 6 prisons within the presbytery, and thousands of people in the community who are - directly or indirectly - linked to the prison community.

These workshops are to help congregations explore what it means to be communities of reconciliation within our society.

Registration forms are available for download here.

back in the prison tomorrow - advent 3, looking at the Magnificat… i’ll be using a truncated version of this:

We know you will understand, God,
if we don’t have the faith that Mary had
- not quite yet, anyway.
We’d be willing to believe that love is waiting, just around the corner,
to be born into our world
and that when it is we’ll see the hungry fed, and the humble lifted high
but it would really help to have some angels come visit who would talk us into it.

So all we can commit to, today,
is to prepare the place for you to be born
even if it doesn’t seem likely.

Because while we are a little sceptical about Christmas
we’d really love to be convinced.

it’s been a really hot day in melbourne today. it would have been in the mid 30’s by the time i got to the prison… one of the men asked if the weather was as hot outside the prison as it was in, and i honestly don’t think it was… maybe the heat bounces off the concrete walls… i’m doing advent services each week with the men from the unit that houses inmates with intellectual disabilities and acquired brain injuries. i’m also going in on christmas day to do worship with them, and with the men from another unit - none of whom i know. that’ll be a challenge. because i feel like i need more challenges…

i haven’t been in to the prison for a few months, not since before the mid-year trip to the UK. some of the men had remembered that i was going away and wanted to hear about it… i’d almost forgotten i’d been there myself.

it’s a shock to go back into the prison. i’d forgotten so much - or i’d remembered it, but it had become a caricature of itself so i didn’t really believe the memory anymore. it actually really is that bad, that soul destroying. i need to keep going in so that stays fresh, because it changes how i write.

i led worship - there were three men from the unit who came, none of whom i’d met before, by memory. the prison had been in lock down for most of the day as many of the prison officers were at a funeral for a colleague. the men were a bit stir crazy as a result. i knew that what i’d prepared was wrong as soon as i walked in the door - it would have worked, just, if i’d had the group i had last time. but with this group of men i had too many words, too much abstraction. the candle lighting was lovely, though. maybe we’ll do that next time and get them each to light a candle as they pray for hope. i took in some prints of Banksy’s paintings on the segregation wall. they quite liked them. we talked about what pictures of hope we’d paint on the prison fence, but their faces looked too sad at that point, so i moved the conversation on pretty quickly.

advent is a crappy time to do worship in prison. too much talk of revolution and promises that just don’t hold water. it’s very easy to sound like a fraud - to be a fraud, really. i was listening to what i was saying and wanting me to just shut up. but they were lovely and gracious, and seemed, well, used to it.

tomorrow morning i’m meeting with a chaplain from one of our major hospitals. she wants to talk about worship for patients in the acute psych unit on christmas eve.

i’m developing a healthy dose of wrath to unleash on the next person who tells me that alternative worship is pretentious, or just about being hip or contemporary.

there’s a beer waiting for me out the back in my gorgeous wee garden where the trees have parrots, and the fences have no razorwire. next time i post i’ll be less grotty and self indulgent. promise.