Tuesday, Third Week in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come to him and eat with him, and he with me. (Revelation 3:20)

God is at your door knocking, always, everywhere. Feels kind of like ‘Big Brother,’ huh? Not exactly.

In prison I am under constant scrutiny. I am constantly checked, interrogated, and searched. It is seldom that I go more than a few hours without having to justify myself to a guard and be touched and searched. When I am not in front of a guard, I am often on a security camera somewhere. And much worse than that is the scrutiny that comes from other inmates. We watch each other constantly.

In prison, it has often been said, in a parody of the slogan of the army, that you can ‘be all that you can pretend to be.’ I cannot count the number of times when men in here, often young and scared, spin tall tales of how famous, dangerous, and rich they were. We often joke that there are no drug addicts in here, just drug dealers. There are no prostitutes in here, just pimps. But under the watchful eyes of other prisoners, true character always comes out.

I long to go to a place away from society and just be quiet and alone for a while. But until that time comes, I use the presence of scrutiny as a chance to witness. I love to study apologetics, and I love to talk and argue; but God needs more witnesses, not more lawyers. Every relationship that we have, in every situation that we find ourselves, there is a chance to model Christian love. There is a chance to witness Christ, even without ever speaking a word.

Surely Christ is always watching us, just as Christ is always with us, and inviting God in will transform every relationship, every interaction. Be a witness today, because somebody is watching you.

Come, O Father saving Son, who o’er sin the victory won. Boundless shall your kingdom be; grant that we it’s glories see. (Hymn 54)

Monday, Third Week in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

Blessed is he who considers the poor! The Lord delivers him in the day of trouble; (Psalm 41:1)

Throughout the Bible there is a clear preference given to those who are poor. In all human economic situations it is unfortunately true that some will have more, and some less. God gives us strong words to remember those who have less, and to get up and go do something about it.

I have a hard time with that. Prison teaches you to be selfish, (in case you didn’t already know how.) We have so very little in here, and we learn to guard our possessions and our emotions, to build a wall around our past histories and our future dreams. I fear when I think about myself as I grow older. What will I be like when I am free? Will I ever be able open up enough to find the true intimacy of a deep relationship? For years I lied about my crimes, and that betrayal prevented the deep intimacy that my fiancé and I longed for in each other. There is no room for deception in a loving relationship.

Christ comes into our lives to tear down our walls. When we invite God into our lives, we slowly become more open to inviting others in as well. We learn to yield to the impulse not just to be giving of our things, but also to be giving of our time, our energy, and our love. We learn to become vulnerable.

Christmas is a time when we often stop to reach out in ministry, or at least to write a check to a charity. But the Bible does not let us off the hook so lightly. Giving and serving is a lifelong part of a Christian life, to always be giving in our things, and more importantly, to be giving of ourselves. We are all spiritually and emotionally poor.

O heavenly word, eternal light, begotten of the Father’s might, who in these latter days wast born for blessing to a world forlorn; (Hymn 64)

Third Sunday in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

Stir up thy power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, …let thy bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord…”(160)

The above prayer comes from the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer. It is a common yearning that we find in the Scriptures, and in the liturgy. We are praying to be delivered, and that the delivery might come speedily! Oh how often we forget the words of the 23rd Psalm. David reminds us that our delivery comes through the valleys, not from them. And it seems somehow unfair to read the 23rd psalm without first reading the 22nd, whose powerful words of painful longing were spoken by Christ on the cross.

I love the Psalms. Every human emotion can be found there. If we are bold enough to read all of the psalms, and not just the pretty ones used in most churches, then we can be surprised. The full breadth of the Psalter shows more of our humanness than it does our holiness. And in my life I can be disappointingly human. I can be petty and angry, I can be depressed and lonely, I can even be lustful and covetous; I am only human. Often the prison atmosphere seems to intensify our worst and least attractive traits.

But Jesus didn’t come to give us a life suddenly free of all suffering, or free from all hardships. Jesus did come to endure them with us, to bring us comfort, to direct our gaze again towards the eternal God, and to bring hope. God’s incarnation into flesh shows us not a freedom from life, but a new and joyful existence in this very life. Jesus comes to us, to be with us, and to guide us into this new existence in God. That’s what Christmas is all about.

Come, O Father saving Son, who o’er sin the victory won. Boundless shall your kingdom be; grant that we it’s glories see. (Hymn 54)

Saturday, Second Week in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

O Lord my God, I cried to thee for help, and thou hast healed me. (Psalm 30:2)

There is great pain in the Hebrew Bible, in the laments, in the prophets, and in the psalms. Throughout all of the pain is a sure confidence in the deliverance of the Lord. But not all of our hopes will be realized on this side of heaven. That is a true and painful reality. Yet we live in hope. We cannot give up on hope because it is not enough just to survive.

In prison you cannot even try to do God’s work preaching a message of mere survival and morality. We must preach, teach, live, and show forth hope. And this hope cannot simply be an empty hope of freedom or material things. The hope that guides us and gives direction is a hope that comes only through, and from, God.

I daydream of blue waters and open seas, but even more I daydream of living my life over again, living it better. And it is a painful truth I must live with that my crimes can never be undone; they can never be satisfied; there will never be complete healing, and I may never see freedom. I have watched too many men in here die, old and forgotten, to be able to deny that possible reality.

But the hope endures. Hope has been called the most dangerous thing in prison, and it is. It is also the most liberating.

In God all our hopes and dreams will find fulfillment

No eye has known the sight, no ear has heard such delight: Alleluia! Therefore we sing to greet our king; forever let our praises ring. (Hymn 61)

Friday, Second Week in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

Thus you witness against yourselves that you are the sons of those who murdered prophets. Fill up, then, the measure of your fathers. (Matthew 23:31-32)

If God were to hold the full measure of our wrongdoing against us, who could possibly stand? And if the sins of our ancestors were added to that tally, we would be condemned indeed. These words of Christ do not sound much like a welcome, and come instead as a warning. It is a common expression in here that if we were to be sentenced for every crime we had committed, then we would all be serving multiple life sentences.

During this time of year we like to throw parties. As a free man my family often threw big and wonderful parties during the holidays. Before each party we spent days cleaning the house, polishing the furniture , and washing the crystal. Preparing our house was a way to honor the coming guests.

Unfortunately many men in here recognize the honor and majesty of Christ, without recognizing the loving mercy. They know very well their crimes and sins, and insist that their lives would need serious spiritual housecleaning before Christ would be willing to enter in. But Christ loves us so much that he enters our lives when they are broken and messy. He comes to the site of the party weeks in advance, when the dirty laundry is on the floor and the dishes have spots. He loves us so much that he comes, and then he helps clean up the mess we have made of our lives.

These words of warning are also words of invitation. There is no cleaning that we could do to clean up our sins, or the ‘measure of our fathers.’ In the midst of brokenness and strife, God speaks warning, but brings healing.

Lo! The Lamb, so expected, comes with pardon down from heaven; let us haste, with tears of sorrow, one and all to be forgiven; (Hymn 59)

Thursday, Second Week in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested. (Revelation 2:10)

Prison is horrible. Prison is a deeply and profoundly negative experience that wounds and damages people. But not all people. As much as it is difficult, for some people prison is a test, and an opportunity. Prison can be a chance for society to seek healing and punishment for the penitent, and for the penitent to seek wholeness.

But that does not happen without the presence of God. Prison has often been likened to a church or monastery, but it isn’t. Church lifts you up and directs your gaze towards heaven; prison crushes you down, and grinds you to the depths of pain and longing. But yet, when God is present, it can be transforming.

In this barren desert a highway can be formed. In the barrenness of a concrete cell, on the arid stone of a human heart, something blooms. When nothing else works, where nothing else can go, then we notice God’s presence.

Each of us must discover on our own who Christ is. Each of us must be willing to meet Christ, and if we are willing to invite God in then we must be ready to accept what God is offering. C. S. Lewis once said that God accepts us as we are, but loves us too much to leave us as we are. When Christ is here, then everything is different.

Any time can be a test, and God is here with us. With God’s constant presence then every moment and circumstance can be transformed. This simple presence is the greatest gift we could imagine. In prison the presence of God, and the presence of loved ones, is the greatest Christmas gift there is.

Give the transforming gift of your presence this year.

The King shall come when morning dawns and light triumphant breaks: when beauty gilds the eastern hills and life to joy awakes. (Hymn 73)

Wednesday, Second Week in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

When I saw him I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand upon me, saying, “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one:” (Revelation 1:17-18)

I have feared the courts, the judges, and the authorities. I have feared the condemnation of my friends and family. I have feared the pain of my victims, not just the direct victims of my crimes; but also so many collateral victims. Everybody who has been touched by my crimes, even police, judges, and the prison guards are victims. When I first saw the movie ‘The Passion” I was captivated not just by the graphic portrayal of what Christ endured, but by the unspeakable pain on the faces of the two Mary’s. I see the pain on Jesus’ mother’s face, and I think to the painful cries from my mother and fiancé on the day that I was sentenced. I think of what my parents endure everyday that I am in prison. They are my victims in new ways on every missed holiday, on every missed birthday, on every day.

The pain of Mary before the cross was not just the pain of a mother seeing the torture of her son. She, better than any of us, knows the amazing divine identity of Jesus. She sees not just the infant she nursed and raised, but she also sees her God abused and crucified. It is her faith, her hope, and her God that is hung on the cross and killed.

But it was allowed by God, and only for a time. Fear not. Christ is the Living One. Holy. Eternal. Resurrected Savior. The Christ born this Christmas is beyond time, before it and after it, eternally reigning with the Father; he died and conquered death.

Christ hung on the cross for all the crimes that I have done, but Christ came down to live with all of the victims, and to bring healing to them and to me. Fear not Mary; Fear not us, Christ is here.

Herald, sound the note of judgment, warning us of right and wrong, turning us from sin and sadness till once more we sing the song. (Hymn 70)

Tuesday, Second Week in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

Jesus asked them a question, saying, “What do you think of the Christ? Whose son is He?” (Matthew 22:41-42)

Whom do you say that Christ is? That seems like an easy question, but what do you secretly expect or long for in God?

There are so very many people who become Christians expecting an easy life. They suddenly expect their worldly troubles to disappear and for life to be easy. Unfortunately there are many preachers out there who are preaching a ‘health and wealth’ gospel that tells this lie.

Such a faith will not cut it in here. Men who become Christians and expect the court decision to suddenly go their way are often disappointed and fall away. They expect Christianity to be an easy life, and then must ask where is their faith when the parole board turns them down, or their children and spouse leave, or a family member dies? Where is God when our prayers go unanswered? Where was God when I committed my crimes?

It is the great gift that Jesus is the Messiah who has come to us, but following Christ does not make our lives easy or pain free. Emmanuel, Christ is with us, is a Christ who does not free us from hard times, but rather dwells with us in them. Where is God when it hurts and doesn’t make sense? God is right here. And in our longing and barrenness a faith is born that changes everything. In the midst of that need, great joy can be experienced and lived. It may not change the hardship of our lives, but God’s comfort brings hope. It brings peace, and it makes a path for us to return to God.

Who do you say Christ is? I say Christ is here.

Savior of the nations come! Virgin’s Son, make here your home. Marvel now, both heaven and earth, that the Lord choose such a birth. (Hymn 54)

Monday, Second Week in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

Grace to you and Peace from Him who is, and who was, and who is to come. (Revelation 1:4)

When was the last time that you had a concrete chance to minister the Gospel in your actions? I once had a chance that I will always remember.

At the Fairfax Jail the chaplain came to our bible study with the story of David. He was in jail, probably for a few months, and he was destitute. He didn’t even have any underwear (it had been confiscated for ‘security reasons’) and had no friend to help him out. I called my mother and fiancé, and the next day they went shopping and dropped off some things for David.

A week later, as I was moving cells to another part of the jail, I met a man standing by the elevators with a small sheet wrapped around his few possessions. Even from a distance I could feel the pain and hurt radiating from him. I saw a bible in his hand, and we talked briefly. He was being moved to the Christian pod, (I had been banned from it because of my crime and sentence) and he was testifying to the anonymous blessing he had received in some clothes and underwear. But he was crying as he talked to me, saying that in the whole world he had not a single friend, at least not one that cared that he was in jail. “Well” I told him “you’ve got one now,” and I gave him a hug.

David only stayed in jail for a few months, and he still cried a lot during that time. But he was looked out for by many of the Christians, and left a much stronger man than he had been when he arrived. I did what little I could to help him, and we stayed friends during that time. I heard from him a few times once he got out, and he was doing well. It has been years now, but sometimes I still pray for him.

Every day is an opportunity for ministry. In every time and every place we can show the love of God. Today is your chance.

See that your lamps are burning, replenish them with oil; look now for your salvation, the end of sin and toil. (Hymn 68)

Second Sunday in Advent

by Matthew B. Harper

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed His people.” (Luke 1:68)

Redemption, for a prisoner, is often seen only as what happens when we are set free from these bars and fences. The world beyond these walls is idealized, and often idolized. After years of separation and deprivation it is easy to think that redemption will come when you get out and are able to experience the ‘good life’ once again.

When people are released from prison, and are able to realize some of their goals and lusts, they often find themselves just as empty as they were when they were in prison. Many of them come back to prison not because they wanted too much, but because they wanted too little. The ‘good life’ wasn’t very satisfying. We dreamt small dreams, and when we seize the dream we are often just as empty as when we began.

The things of our world are ultimately not enough to satisfy the deepest longings in our hearts. We are finite creatures, and we are made to know and commune with an infinite God. There is nothing in this world that satisfies that need, and there is nothing that is supposed to. God made us to yearn and long for communion with God.

Prisoners, crime victims, combat soldiers, victims of serious illnesses… all people who have been through extreme life changing experiences often realize how empty life is without God.

God is right here in our midst, and God envisions dreams for us that are so much greater then anything we could ever dream on our own. God does not require us to be good enough, or holy enough, only for us to be willing enough. When we seek our fulfillment in this world, we will always be empty, and when we seek our wholeness in God, we will always be filled.

Prepare the way, O Zion, your Christ is drawing near! Let every hill and valley a level way appear. Greet one who comes in glory, foretold in sacred story. (Hymn 65)