Seven
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Snakeskins & Butterflies
“Last call for the Cyrene
meeting,” announced the Control Officer over the unit’s intercom.
Four youths lined up, including
Roland Cords. Renie wondered, What's
this Perv doing going to a Christian meeting? He stared at Cords for a moment, but
the Perv simply lowered his eyes to avoid any appearance of acknowledgement.
Joey was not among the group and Renie wondered what had happened to change his
celly’s mind. Once the group entered the meeting hall, Renie made his way
to the right side and sat between one other construction crew inmate and
Cornell Purdue.
“What’s up, kid? Glad you made
it,” greeted the boy whose muscles filled more than his chair.
“I was fourth on the list for my
unit. They only had places for five.”
“When you go back tonight, tell
your housing officer you want to be a regular out here. They like that kinda
thing. It helps the cops with their routines, knowin’ where everybody is
supposed to be all the time.”
“Sure thing. That is if I like
it out here or not.”
Cornell flexed his arms and
replied, “I hear ya, man, I hear ya.”
Renie scanned the room with the
eye of a hawk.
Cornell noticed his newbie
construction buddy surveying the area and said, “See that big guy over there in
the second row?”
“The Indian?”
“Yeah, but he’s half Indian, the
real term nowadays is Native American, and he's half Mexican too. He was a
prospect for some motorcycle gang outta Texas. He killed three rival bikers
tryin’ to get his colors.”
“A jacket with a patch ain’t worth
that kinda trouble,” lamented Renie. “I bet he stirred up a hornets nest down
there.”
“That be why he’s here. But I
heard he gots a contract out on him, so stay clear of him or you just gonna end
up bein’ collateral damage.”
“Thanks for the tip, Cornell. I
owe ya.”
“That’s one on the house, kid,
consider it a freebie. Anyway, you'z a good worker and I need good workers on
the infirmary project. We try to make it a home away from home out there, a
place of hard work and relaxation for the soul. And me bein’ away from my home
back out on the streets is always best.”
“I hear ya.” Though Renie liked
his home he realized that most criminal youths came from horrible home
environments. For many, their self-created criminal empires were the only place
they could be kings and have people take notice. A group of wayward friends
were the only family and the only place of belonging they had ever known; a
place where they could mask their loneliness with the temporary thrill of
committing unlawful acts.
When the preacher entered the
room a lot of whooping and hollering went on, it soon subsided once the youths
saw that the man and his two associates were smiling. He was not the typical
preacher looking type. His hair was almost down to his shoulders and he was
wearing regular clothes. His eyes were friendly and displayed a caring
softness. The two others with him also looked like regular people off of the
street. The preacher man gestured his hand for everyone to be quiet and
addressed the boys, “I’m Clifford James. These two friends of mine are Lenny
Vance and Byron Burns, you can call all of us by our first names; we are part
of a ministry for youthful offenders called Cyrene.”
Some of the boys in the group
knew of church related names but Cyrene was new to all of them. Renie
remembered about a man in the Bible, Simon of Cyrene, who helped carry the
cross of Jesus part of the way to the crucifixion site. Renie sat and listened
carefully with all of the rest of the youths.
Lenny stated, “Our ministry is
named after a man’s town mentioned in the Bible. Can anyone tell me what that
might be?” He looked around at the blank faces.
Renie raised his hand, as did
one other youth, the Perv.
Byron pointed toward Renie,
“Yes?”
“Simon of Cyrene carried the
cross of Christ.”
“That is it,” confirmed Byron.
Lenny continued, “He helped
Jesus bear that heavy cross when Jesus needed the help. Of course Simon was
compelled to do that by the Romans, but we are focusing on what he did, carry
the cross for Christ.”
The three ministry leaders took
turns explaining how their ministry worked; how they were there to help
shoulder the burdens of prison life these youth faced.
One youth yelled out, “You
preachers are only here for a couple of hours on Fridays and gone after that.”
“We are working it out with the
Warden to see if it is possible to give each of you our hotline phone number.
We know you have only so many minutes and number of calls each week, so this
would be for emergency calls only, those desperate times when you need someone
to talk to in confidence,” responded Clifford. “We hope that you will first try
to find your answers in the Bible and talk among yourselves before calling.
It’s important to develop good solid contacts between yourselves.”
Byron went on to explain that
the Bible was not a prayer book or a collection of precious magic promises,
“It’s a manual for life,” he affirmed, “and for a godly life.”
Lenny told them that a new life
could be found in Jesus the Christ. He told them it was like a caterpillar
changing into a butterfly, a tadpole changing into a frog, or a snake shedding
its old skin; they could change, but it needed to come from the inside, from
the heart. “Bein’ religious ain’t any fun,” he went on. “Who wants more rules
to follow? Nobody. That’s why Christ came to set you free from focusing on all
of the dos and don’ts and to live a life where you talk to him in prayer, which
can be just in a silent thought or whisper, and to look for your answers in
God’s written words found in the Bible.”
“But it’s just a book, man,” a
kid yelled out.
A few "Yeah, that’s
right!" comments quickly followed.
Clifford interjected, “The Bible
is comprised of sixty-six books written over a period of at least fifteen
hundred years. It was composed by over forty authors in three languages on
three different continents, and it covers a consistent theme… the Messiah.”
The three told the boys that
they could be free even in prison. Lenny read about the Apostle Paul’s life and
explained how Paul had written much of the Bible’s New Testament while in
prison. “Even the Apostle John was imprisoned.”
“These men were made up of
simple fisherman, a tax collector, a political activist, just regular people
off of the streets,” Byron informed the group. He told the boys about his own
life of dealing with drug addiction, burglary and crime. “I was a preacher’s
kid, PK as they are called, and I came from a long line of preachers, my dad,
granddad, great-granddad, and on back into the 1800’s. I wasn’t going to be no
preacher, but once God got ahold of me and his Spirit tugged at my heart, I was
hooked and set free. Remember, God catches his fish before he ever cleans them.
He takes you as you are; not by might or power, but by his Spirit.”
“What about when we get out of
prison, what then?” asked one of the youths on the left side of the meeting
room.
“We are in the process of
setting up help centers in large homes in as many of the major cities as
possible. Follow-up is important. What good is it to give someone a fork and
not the dinner to go with it?” Clifford rhetorically questioned.
The boys laughed.
The preacher continued, “No, we
are setting up the Cyrene Youth Centers so we can be there for you whenever you
need us. You leave your colors at the door; everyone is equal when they walk
through the entrance, same as in here.”
The meeting adjourned with
prayer and the handing out of free Bibles, the Perv quickly grabbed the largest
one. Renie took a Bible even though he already had one back at the house. He
figured having a spare wouldn’t hurt. Anyway, he thought, I can give it to Joey
if he wants it.
“One last thing,” Clifford addressed the youths
while they lined up to be escorted back to their units, “Only God can change
you inside. So ask him to fill you with his Holy Spirit. Tell God that you
accept the blood of Jesus as payment for all of your sins forever, and read
your Bibles. We will talk about that more next Friday. Revelations chapter
twelve verse eleven, read it for next time. God bless!”
Next Chapter: The Room
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