The Women of Pod 4

     At the last Ministry Fair, Deb Hardison and Pam Bangs decided to leave their comfort zones and sign up for the Jail Ministry.
     Both recently retired women had long been involved in sharing the Gospel, but with more free time, Pam saw the ministry as “another opportunity” to teach women and, as Deb adds, “make a difference in their lives.” So, as part of a team of four, they eventually paid their first visit to White County Jail.
     Neither knew what to expect. Deb describes the security protocols of being “wanded” for contraband, surrendering phones and keys, retaining only their Bibles and study material. Pam says her initial apprehensiveness was heightened by “sounds of heavy doors closing and locking, the maze of hallways, and the stale smell.”
     The women’s section of the jail is divided into “pods,” or separate living quarters. Deb and Pam’s team was initially assigned to Pod 3, where few of the 25 women in the large communal area wanted to study, so they moved to the laundry room. At least in the smaller space they escaped the chaos of the full pod, and after three weeks had adjusted to the routine.
     Then Jeff Montgomery assigned their team to Pod 4—maximum security. What might have terrified them before now seemed like an opportunity. Yes, the prisoners in this pod had committed more serious crimes, but the population was smaller (only 5-10 women) and could elicit more focused study.
     The response of the Pod 4 group has delighted the team: “They love to sing and to choose hymns. They read, comment, and ask questions about the lesson. Most study independently and some submit written responses that amaze us. One woman has been baptized!”
     Deb and Pam have bonded with these women. Pam says, “they honestly express their feelings about jail and do not deny their bad actions. They show concern for people they've hurt.” Deb is encouraged to see inmates talk about the struggle to control anger or forgive others.
     The experience has also yielded new insights into what these inmates have lost. They have so little in jail—no books, only brief periods in the fresh air, nothing to do. To pass the time, Deb says, “They make dice out of toilet paper, toothpaste and candy wrappers.” More distressing, Pam recalls, are the “difficult moments when they speak of missing their children.” She also shares this perhaps most striking expression of what is lost in jail: “One night when we gave the women their piece of study paper, they all immediately put it over their face and took a deep breath. When asked why, they said, ‘It smells like the free world!’”
     That Pam—and Deb—understand the pathos of that moment says a lot about how well they’ve managed to step outside their comfort zones. Clearly, they see the women in Pod 4 as human beings, not prisoners. To that point, Deb cites this scripture as a motivation for choosing the jail ministry: “Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners” (Heb. 13:3).
     It’s a remarkable call for Christians to have empathy for an ignored or despised group of people, in imitation of the divine empathy that brought Jesus to the prison house of this world. Thank God for the Jail Ministry, for Deb, Pam, their team, and the women of Pod 4.