Recently I had the privilege of attending a TUMI (The Urban Ministry Institute) graduation in prison, and it was full of images of complete transformation and redemption – images that made me blink twice and say to myself, “Am I really seeing this?”
As I walked into the chapel, it was obvious that this place has not received attention in years. But my attention was soon turned away from the dreary, colorless surroundings to the 19 inmates all dressed in their blues. My eyes saw Blacks, Latinos and Whites, beards, shaved heads and cornrows. I saw men, whose “outside” appearance communicated “I am an inmate and I have done something that got me in here.” Yet, they were joyfully playing instruments or singing with great volume and enthusiasm. They were the chapel praise band and everything about their countenances and passion for worship was in contrast with their outward appearances. But what I noticed the most were their eyes. There was light, peace and life in those eyes. For the first of many times that afternoon, I was staring at the image of Christ-generated, complete transformation.
Soon the inmates began to arrive for chapel, and like everything else that day, it was tightly controlled. Unlike a typical church service where people casually enter into the sanctuary and greet their friends, the inmates were brought in with order. I noticed the many tattoos that declared allegiance and identity to dark things. These were tattoos that implied threat and communicated, “I don't care what you think of me.” Yet, I did not see danger. I did not see hate. Over and over I saw love, freedom and transformation. I saw men who, in a normal environment, would have hated each other, but behind these bars they were worshipping Jesus together. Their worship was loud and unrestrained. It came from the heart and soul.
Next, the band began to play “Pomp and Circumstance.” As I looked down the aisle, I saw another inmate striding down the aisle holding the Word of God out before him. He was followed by another inmate who was carrying the cross of Christ. They were visibly proud. I wondered whether they ever imagined the moment when they would be proudly communicating life-defining images that were not associated with gangs or darkness. They used to throw gang signs with their hands. Now they were carrying Bibles and crosses.
The next three inmates were in their black cap and gown graduation dress. I imagine it was one of the most important walks of their lives. This graduation was not acknowledging a mild achievement – it signified the successful completion of 16 challenging, college-level theological and ministry training courses. But mostly the graduation represented the completion of a formidable goal that took a lot of time and effort.
I could not get over the obvious transformation of each man. The purpose of TUMI is leadership development, especially among those who do not have access to traditional theological training, like those who have been incarcerated. The purpose of TUMI is not intellectual vanity. It does not exist so people can know more. It exists for people to do more, because they know more. It exists to train people to serve Christ and His Kingdom. It exists for those emerging as leaders for the Kingdom of God.
The final image of the chapel service was each graduate standing on the steps of the stage – shoulder-to-shoulder in their cap and gowns holding their certificates. One Black. One Hispanic. One White. All three transformed and receiving the standing ovation from their peers, family and mentors. Each was smiling with pride and satisfaction. I am sure that they never imagined this moment for themselves. It was a powerful, powerful image that is still in my mind. I was in awe of God and His power to transform people in Christ. I was looking at men who were restored to the life God intended them to have all along – a life of complete freedom in Christ, regardless of their circumstances.
Rev. Bob Drummond is a TUMI Mentor for TUMI-Emmanuel