Swinging from the Bars

Swinging from the Bars

by Chaplain R. Lewis

She sang it with gusto while swinging from the bars like a monkey.  I was on my rounds in the segregation unit in a large county jail.  She was the first cell on the left so there was an immediate decision to be made.  Ignore her behavior or join in.  I joined in.  Well why not?  I liked the song.  The steel walls were a natural sound reflector that acted like a sound system.  Her rendition echoed down the range sparking both laughter and backup singers amongst her peers.  My joining in the song encouraged the ensemble and for a short period of time what is ordinarily a long row of separate cells housing disciplinary problems within the jail, became a happy little song fest. 

Blueberry Hill lady ended her take on the song in a particularly long note and a flourish, with her clinging to the top most bars of her cell.  The party came to an end.   It quieted down pretty quick as reality zoomed back in on the women in the cages.  She climbed nimbly down from the bars, a smile remaining on her face.  This obviously was not her first rendition from her perch.  There was a grinned skepticism on her face as she landed in front of me.  She seemed surprised her behavior had not put me off.  It probably usually did and kept people from talking to her by design.  Coo-coo had been working as her escape from pain for a long time.  Not this time.  We didn't get into anything particularly deep.  We just chatted and I prayed with her before I continued down range.   I don't know about her, but I'd had a good time and left the range pretty upbeat. 

Weeks later I was at my church, the so called seminary high church I was attending at the time. When the meet and greet time came in the service we all proceeded to shake hands greeting other members and visitors.  A well dressed attractive woman walked up to me and shook my hand. 

"You don't remember me do you?" She said smiling,lingering in the handshake.

I had to admit I didn't as I looked keenly at her trying to figure it out.

"I found my thrill on Blueberry Hill."  She sang conversationally leaning in.  She thanked the astonished me for talking to her that day.  The method had always put off people like me and when I joined in her song, she felt like somebody just liked her for herself.  She had done a  lot of thinking after I left and found the strength to go back to her Christian roots and just turn things over to the Lord and quit the charades in her life.  All that from me singing Blueberry Hill with her?

Ministry to inmates is not always sharing the four Spiritual Laws, or the Roman Road or the Faith talking points.  It's often just meeting people where they are in their lives, not where we are in ours and letting the presence of God do his work in his own way.  At times we will have that opportunity to lead someone to Christ when it's time.  But don't put God in a box.  Sometimes God has Blueberry Hill and a segregation house concert in His repertoire. 

Oh, and on another note.  That well dressed person sitting next to you in church just might have been swinging from the bars in a jail cell just a few days before.  But that's another subject I suppose.