Opening the prisons with no bars

MICHELE MARR

A little more than a week ago, The Los Angeles Times printed a short

essay by Gregory Boyle, the Jesuit priest known for his work among

Los Angeles gangs. Near the end of his essay, Boyle related how

President Bush, in last year’s State of the Union address, “called us

all to a moral responsibility to help those who reenter society from

prison.”

Before that, on the first day of February, the headline of another

essay on the op-ed page read, “A Prison Without Hope Is a Dangerous

Place.” David Feige, a public defender who wrote the essay, spoke of

a shift in California penal philosophy -- from rehabilitative to one

that “endorses the view that a single act can render someone utterly

irredeemable.”

I suspect John Griffin may have been too busy to read either

article, but he’s nonetheless well acquainted with the issues. With

his wife Fran, John operates Released Ministries, Inc., a prison

ministry based in Huntington Beach.

The mission of the ministry is a tall order: to minister to people

who want to be set free from a lifestyle of seemingly hopeless

addictions, gang violence, crime or abuse; to minister to men and

women behind prison walls and their families, as well as those who

have created their own prison through addictions; to offer spiritual

hope to people in prison, no matter how hopeless their circumstances

may seem to be; to help in practical ways when men and women are

released from prison and need assistance in learning to live a new

life in Christ ... the rest of it you can read on the ministry’s

website, https://www.released ministries.org.

Less than 10 years ago, John would have counted himself among the

seemingly hopeless. When he met Fran, he had been a heroin addict for

close to three decades. Soon he’d be lying in a bed, dying of AIDS --

his 5-foot, 9-inch frame weighing only 82 pounds.

When Fran showed me a photo of John from that time, I’d have had

no trouble believing he was dead, had I not been sitting across from

him.

Fran nursed him and prayed for him, even as doctors gave him two

days to two weeks to live. His former-addict brother, who had become

a Christian, had already died from the complications of AIDS. Fran

met John at his funeral.

Had anyone told him he wasn’t about to die, he wouldn’t have

believed it.

As Fran cared for him, John said he “came to see, through her

selfless love, the love of Jesus Christ.” He began to gain strength

and when he could, he went to church with her. It was there he says

he gave his heart to Jesus.

He never used drugs again.

Today, he is healthy; he has no signs of AIDS, although he is

still HIV-positive. He weighs 180 pounds and has a radiant, fair

complexion, shoulder-length white hair, a quick smile and quick wit,

and a discernibly gentle manner.

As an ordained minister, he takes the Gospel and his own story of

redemption to prisons throughout California -- typically making 15

trips every month to hold chapel and counsel inmates.

As I sat with John and Fran in December, near the fountain in the

Central Library cafe, John talked to me about prisons that have no

walls -- prisons like his heroin addiction, for instance.

Some prisoners are imprisoned by an addiction to drugs or alcohol,

by gang violence or domestic violence. Others are imprisoned by what

they’ve reaped from poor choices, or by despair or hurt.

These prisoners, many of them yearning for a fresh start, walk

among us every day.

“Fresh Start” is what John and Fran chose to name their local

ministry, created for prisoners of prisons without walls, desperate

to change something that seems unchangeable.

Fresh Start meetings are held once a month at His Place Church on

Glencoe Avenue, just off Edinger Avenue and Beach Boulevard. I went

to the January meeting.

Nobody got up to say, “Hi. My name is Missy and I’m a drug

addict.” No one was put on the spot.

The meeting started with music, music you could dance to, by the

Christian band, In His Name.

Refreshments were set out before the meeting. The crowd -- there

were several dozen people there -- was eclectic and casually dressed.

There were children, people I’m sure who are retired, and all ages in

between; a remarkably even mix of men and women, who appeared to come

from a variety of ethnic and socio-economic backgrounds.

They were, for the most part, energetic and friendly. John’s

message was about the power and love of Jesus -- His desire and

ability to bring us out of the wildernesses, out of the prisons, that

are so often of our own making.

John and Fran don’t believe anyone is hopeless. As long as you are

alive, John said, there is hope. Neither does he believe anyone is

unredeemable. Fresh Start is a place for anyone to come make a new

life with God’s help.

At the end of the meeting, no one seemed in any hurry to leave. I

left thinking I’d probably go to the next meeting, which is at 7 p.m.

Saturday night.

* MICHELE MARR is a freelance writer from Huntington Beach. She

can be reached at [email protected].