Radford Noone Research Service

climbing your family tree

Mighty Drofdar

Progressive Salvation: You Can Always be Better Tomorrow

 

If I hear that same complaint one more time I’m going to go postal! It seems like every week the same theme comes up among the guys who chose to confide in me. The common theme is that inmates act one way in church and that these same inmates act another way on the cell block. That of course is probably statistically aimed at those attending Mormon programs. In other parts of the country it would be aimed at another religious group. I still contemplate how this is different than on the outside.

In my frustration, I recently asked an inmate who had never made this complaint to me for his perspective on this topic. His take on it was that for those few hours that these men are involved in chapel activities they want to be around the volunteers. He said that they may also want to be like what they are hearing and that they want to be among the safety of good people. However, they still have to return back to the block and the nightmare awaiting them -- thus, the split personality. I was stunned as his wisdom no doubt originates from having already been in prison for over a decade and knowing that his next parole hearing would not be for another  twenty years. I believe that this inmate was correct. His analysis and compassion was born from a perspective of coming to terms with life and the reality of his situation. Perhaps the short timers (those under ten years) don’t have a reason to develop this type of understanding.

             There’s no doubt about it, the prison programs offered by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are the largest and most varied of any religious group with ministries in Utah. Since statistically the complaints I hear involve their programs, it is only appropriate that I discuss them.

For those who would consider themselves somewhat Mormon-illiterate, the LDS Church does not stem from either the Catholic, Protestant, or Orthodox branches of the Christian family tree. It was founded in 1830 in Upstate New York and was meant to be a new restored Christianity. They consider themselves to be Christian, just another expression altogether. Many religious scholars contend that Mormons are a rising new world religion leaving the Christian cradle altogether. This would be in a similar fashion as Christianity did with Judaism some two thousand years ago. Some Christians, especially conservative evangelicals, tend to dismiss the conversation altogether by slapping the cult label on them. Regardless of how one comes to ultimately define the LDS Church and its members, one thing is for certain; they provide a fascinating weave in the tapestry of prison ministries. There are currently about fourteen million Mormons on the books, with about half practicing. The activity rate is probably about the average for most denominations these days depending on how they count what a member is.

             Because the LDS Church is the largest religious group in Utah (also in Idaho), they would naturally have the most members in the prison population. Some Mormon inmates come from stanch five-generation pioneer families who walked across the Great Plains in the mid-nineteenth century, pulling handcarts from the Midwest to the Rocky Mountains. Many of these men that I work with were actively engaged in the church until something went terribly wrong in their lives. Other inmates come from LDS backgrounds but either never actively attended church or dropped out somewhere along the way. Then something went terribly wrong in their lives.

What so many of these men have in common is that the LDS Church, depending on their crime, excommunicates them if that wasn’t done before they were incarcerated. So they are non-members, just like anybody else in the prison system. The Mormon programs are then aimed at bringing back the lost sheep into the fold. The goal is that when they get out of prison, and have proven themselves worthy, they can be rebaptized. There are many programs in place at the prison to facilitate this process. Some of the guys are resentful of this excommunication process by openly asking, “Haven’t we been punished enough?”

These programs include the Institute program where the Mormon scriptures, and church history are studied in-depth. It also includes more intimate Family Home Evening groups where volunteer couples mentor a small group of men in a quasi-family setting. Then there’s the family history center program in most units where there are microfilm readers, computers, books, and databases. There the inmates can explore who they are through their personal and family histories. The church offers something for everybody.

However, and this is a big one, the Mormon programs are set up a little different than those of other religious organizations. While Mormonism has a sin and salvation theology, they don’t have the concept of “getting saved” or “accepting Jesus as your personal savior” that would be found in a run-of-the-mill evangelical Christian ministry. In Mormon sin and salvation theology, salvation does come through grace and faith in Jesus, but it’s a progressive experience where people can be better today than they were yesterday. This process continues after you die. I’ve heard the Mormon volunteers speak of “we are here to save souls.” However, they don’t mean the same thing by it as an evangelical Christian would. What they are offering is a rescue mission and a lifestyle change rather than an instant salvation experience. Unlike the evangelical ministries who would teach salvation though faith and grace only, the Mormons teach a carefully mixed version of works and grace. While they may teach that they are the one and only true church, they do not teach that other churches and world religions are lost by any means. Everyone, whether in this life or the next, will have a shot at salvation through Jesus Christ. After all, salvation is seen as a progressive experience.

             If it could possibly be summed up by someone on the outside like me, I would say that what the Mormons are teaching and offering is holism, although that term may not be familiar to most church members. They are offering a package deal where the mind, body, and spirit are all ministered to. From the health code to the emphasis on self-improvement spiritually and intellectually, they are working to bring the whole person to the desired result. At some point, that not being in prison, the goal is either baptism for a convert, or rebaptism for an excommunicated member, into God’s true church.

             How this plays out in a prison ranges from deep and philosophical to absolutely hilarious. It depends on the inmate. The programs are what they are – programs; the inmates are who they are – inmates; and the prison is what it is – a prison. Whether the inmate sees value in the holism taught, or not, is something that nobody can control except the inmate. All the LDS Church (or any other church) can do is offer. It provides some fascinating insights into prison religion outside of the more traditional Catholic and Protestant settings.

Matthew was the first inmate I met and we have remained friends ever since. He is not the largest or stockiest man. He once told me that he couldn’t “fight his way out of a wet paper bag if he had to.” So he uses his intellect and his words to bully his way through the prison system. This has caused him problems over the years, but it has no doubt also kept him out of trouble as much as it has kept him in trouble. As I told him one time, “I can’t judge you because I have no idea what I would do if I were in prison to survive.” I’ll admit it; I couldn’t fight my way out of a wet paper bag either. He’s one of those inmates who doesn’t give me an ounce of trouble, but everyone seems to have a story about him. Matthew is very active in LDS programs, and to my knowledge has always been. He comes from an active Mormon family and knows church doctrine, rhetoric, and can quote book, chapter, and verse in the scriptures. One time he came and sat by me as I was talking to someone else, and I could tell that he was not OK. He needed to talk.

“Let’s go back to the office and chat.” I said. He nodded and followed me back to the bat cave. He’s an interesting man. Matthew is clean, well groomed obviously with pride, and his uniform is pressed. There’s not a particular stereotype that anybody from the outside could pin on him as he’s well spoken, educated, and very well read. When he comes into the office he doesn’t have one comfort spot where he likes to sit. Sometimes it’s across the desk from me. Other times it’s beside me on the narrow end of the desk, and sometimes he’s leaned up against the cinder block wall on my side of the desk. However, he’s far too polite to ever put his feet on my desk. This day he chose to sit across the desk from me. I began, “How are you doing today?” He immediately got to the point. “I’ve been having some problems that I’ve been thinking about.” In my usual manner I enquired what he had been thinking about. “The guys I work with tell me that I’m arrogant, and that I don’t listen to what they have to say. They think that I should not interrupt them during a conversation and that I should just keep my mouth shut. They think that I try and take control when they are talking.”

As he said this, I could actually picture it in my mind and understand why they felt that way. He does have a habit of not fully listening and dominating a conversation. However, from my perspective as someone who doesn’t have to deal with these quirks every day, I don’t mind. When he does it to me I call him on it and tell him to pipe down. With this understanding, I asked, “Could they be right?” To his credit, there was no plausible deniability. He offered, “Maybe, but I don’t see myself that way. I really just want to contribute to the conversation and add to what they are saying. I want to be a part of it. If what they are saying is true then that bothers me because I don’t want to leave prison that way. I want to be a better person than when I came in.” I believe him, but how it plays out at his work with the guys who aren’t sympathetic may be an entirely different story. “How would that look in your mind?” I asked.

“I want to be a caring person and I really think that I am, but nobody else seems to see that. In fact I feel sometimes like none of the guys care about me or what I have to say.” Again, I believed him, but I could see where less sympathetic men wouldn’t take the time to see this side of him. I thought that maybe the best way to approach this was to ask, “Is it our job to care about what you say? Where’s the law that says we should?” He grinned and acknowledged that it was nobody’s job. “Then whose job is it?” I was persistent.  He said, “It’s mine.” Yes, Matthew you got it and you did so with much grace and self reflection. I was very proud of him. Then he continued, “Am I really that bad?” It gave me a chance to explore some of the thoughts that I had been thinking as we were talking.

“No, of course you’re not that bad, but please realize that you have learned to

survive in this hell hole of a place by using your intellect and your words. People don’t always understand or respond to that approach. In a conversation you’re just asking to be included, accepted, and loved. However, Matthew, is it our job to love you?” Again, I thought a fair question since he was in a reflective mood. “Well no that’s my job!” He seemed to understand the basic concepts that I was offering. I continued, “Yes, it’s your job, and your job to love them also. You can’t control whether or not anybody loves you back, only your ability to love them. Now let’s talk about spirituality.”

“What do you mean?” He was obviously aware that I was switching the topic and maybe he was curious as to if I was going to tie this into what he was unloading on me. “OK, you can quote book, chapter, and verse in the scriptures, and you can show us how smart you really are – and you are. However, has your life been transformed through your faith?” He once again asked, “What do you mean?” All I could do was provide a question, “What is the core of all the world’s religions? Can you break it out for me?” He quickly stated without a blink, “Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.” Actually this was not bad. Not bad at all. However, his answer arrived  a little too quickly for my taste as if it had been rehearsed for decades during his church attendance. So I offered, “I would have phrased it as ‘transformation through love.’ Has your life been transformed through love; or can you just quote book, chapter, and verse at me?” To this he commented that it was something that he needed to think about.

             Maybe Matthew is the personification of what can happen in any religion that seeks to balance grace and works. I don’t know. What I do know is that our conversation gave me much to think about. Actually, Matthew may “get it.” What I have to make sure of is that I “get it.” What’s important is that I understand “transformation through love.” Matthew told me one day that he is disturbed by the fact that he says things and even thinks in ways now that he would never have before he went to prison. Maybe that’s true, maybe that’s not true, maybe it’s a combo meal deal package. However, he’s doing the best that he can in the situation he has found himself in. I can’t degrade that. Then again as the Mormons would teach, tomorrow he has the potential to be even better.

             What I do know is that in the LDS Church, the rules are pretty defined. There should be no excuse for people not knowing what is expected. However, it’s not like they can hang excommunication over the heads of those who don’t live church standards. The majority have already been excommunicated for not living church standards in the first place. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for the various LDS programs to preach the standard that they do while doing so in a prison environment. Where else would the Mormons find that their congregation is attended and run in part by excommunicated people – probably nowhere but in a prison. Inmates give the talks, say the prayers, lead the music, and sing in the choir. They would not be allowed to do any of these things as an excommunicated member if they were in a regular ward (congregation) on the outside.

             How do you tow-the-line when the line doesn’t exist or is fuzzy at best? It’s a difficult question for all the ministries. In a place where sexuality can be blurred, manipulation is literally currency, and violence a reality, can people be taught to be grounded and solid in their faith?  To use my terminology, can they be “transformed through love?” I personally think so, but it has to play out differently than it does on the outside. I get to go home at the end of the day and pretty much ignore who and what I don’t like. The guys have to go back to their cells and deal with all kinds of people who don’t necessarily hold to the values that they may be desperately trying to hold on to.

             Some people go to the LDS programs to simply pass the time or to be in the air conditioning. There are worse motives I suppose. For the time they are involved in the programs, at least they are exposed to things that may impact their lives at some point. Like a director at the family history center told me one time, “For some of these men, this is the first time they have ever seen a husband and wife who don’t yell and throw things at each other. We are just as much here as an example than anything else.” To this director, he saw that just by him and his wife walking in the door, that this demonstrates a world that could be, rather than the world that some of the men came out of. He’s absolutely right. I think it’s also a powerful statement to the men (and to me) that these Mormon volunteers love them regardless of who they are and what they have done in their past or even back on the cell block. Maybe we all need love demonstrated to us in this manner.

             As I’ve come to reflect on the Mormon idea of progressive salvation, I can’t help but wonder if this is exactly what some of the guys need (although the evangelical ministries would no doubt disagree with me). They need to know that no matter how bad things get on the block and what they have to do in order to survive it, not to mention retain their humanity, that there’s always tomorrow. They can always reach out with a hope that tomorrow is better than today. Embedded within the idea of progressive salvation is the idea that God will love them even tomorrow as much as today. That can be transformative.

From where I sit, it’s no better or no worse than what the evangelical ministries teach in their instant salvation theology. Under both theologies the men can be assured that they can be better tomorrow than they are today and that there is always forgiveness. In the Mormon theology for some of these men, it gives them the wiggle room to fall short of the mark in the times when they simply need to survive. The wiggle room also allows them (as current nonmembers) to explore for themselves what they really want out of life as opposed to what their Mormon parents may have brought them up telling them what they wanted. The LDS Church would openly teach them to gain their own convictions (testimony) of their message rather than rely on their five-generation heritage to get them through it.

             For those who tow-the-line, fall off the line, or simply can’t find the line, I can’t judge them. We all do the best we can in life. The hope is that one day something clicks in our spirit, and we finally understand what “transformation through love” really means. Then I believe the rest tends to take care of itself. Until then, however, whether in prison or on the outside, we’re all trying to hold to the line and some days, that line gets real fuzzy. To use the LDS theology of progressive salvation as my backdrop, I can see that there are some days that simply don’t work for me personally, and that with a little luck, and wiggle room, there is always tomorrow.