The Episcopal New Yorker Spring 2013 : Page 11

Prison Ministry Episcopal Congregation at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility A different parochial report By the Rev. Deacon Ann Douglas A t about 3:45 p.m. on Monday afternoons, the women start coming in to the chapel on the ground level of one of the larger housing units. Dwight, our music leader is already at the piano with today’s music selected and ready to rehearse. It is not a great instrument, but it faces the wooden pews arranged in two columns, can easily be heard and Dwight can direct his “choir.” His faithful choristers arrive as early as possible to practice music from the 1982 Hymnal and Lift Every Voice and Sing. They sign in, hug the Rev. Betsy Roadman and me hello and then go to the front for “rehearsal.” We await the others at the back of the chapel inserting the weekly readings into the red pew copies of the Book of Common Prayer. One of the women likes to use our Spanish prayer book. Some of the others who arrive closer to 4 p.m. stop to chat about what is going on in their lives, difficulties with families, appeals and lawyers, court dates, to share photos of their family, and just to get a bit of loving attention. We started out in 2009 with two or three in the congregation and now often have as many as 25. Some sit apart from the others but participate fully. T wo of the women recently learned of deaths in their families. They must mourn at a distance, no chance for final words with their loved ones. We ask all of them if they would like to take turns being a lesson reader or do the Prayers of the People. We hear voices that are tentative, quiet, reverent, some that are strong and encouraging; all are heartfelt and praise God. I tell them that Episco-palians are a “people of the books” and words matter to us. They understand and do a great job with some difficult phrases and tribes! By 4:10 rehearsal is over, we all have our worship materials and we start with a quiet song of call to worship. “Oh Lord prepare me to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true….” Or “Surely the Presence of the Lord is in this place…” It is quiet and sacred, God is present. We are in prison, but not enslaved. This simple room with cast off furniture and Catholic statuary is the facility’s multi-faith house of worship. I have made colorful seasonal altar hangings for the slight wooden altar. We use large candles, which one of the women faithfully lights with her state issued “Bic” lighter. A small podium stands at the front, near the piano, flanked by chairs for Betsy and me as we sit facing our congregation. We are all the spectrum of ages and ailments, joys and concerns. A rainbow of old, young, troubled, mellow, white, black, Latina, chubby and thin, most do not wear makeup, nearly all are in their state-issued green uniforms, some have colorful shirts on under their blouses. We wear our clericals and simple clothing along with our seasonal stoles. We can see signs of arthritis, diabetes, chronic pain, obesity, hypertension, vision issues, hearing loss, and sometimes a deep air of sadness. Those attending are moth-ers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters, daughters, wives, nieces, apart from the families who miss them terribly or never loved them at all. They have been convicted of serious crimes committed 20 years ago or just last year. They are passing their time inside with God-a choice they might not have had the opportunity to make before now. For fifty minutes each Monday we enter God’s place of love and acceptance, we sing, we pray, we worship, we listen, we love, with no agenda or expectation. We give respect and caring attention to the pains expressed. We laugh at some silly event. We cry over the losses we all feel. It takes several minutes to pass the peace mid-service, bear hugs all around. Communion is taken in wafers and small individual plastic cups of juice, as we stand in a huge circle around the altar. We sing a lively “This Little Light of Mine” as 5 p.m. approaches and with it dismissal. www.episcopalnewyorker.com In short, we are a parish living and breathing like any other in the diocese, with the benefit of no building to maintain or administrative stuff. We just spend time with each other and God. What a privilege! We who serve never forget to be grateful for the opportunity we have been granted to love and serve these women who need and give so much love and positive affir-mation. Please pray for all of us as we lift our hearts to the Lord together. Deacon Ann Douglas, the Rev. Betsy Roadman and Dwight Douglas conduct a weekly Eu-charist in New York State’s only maximum security facility for women. Douglas is deacon on staff at All Saints’, Briarcliff Manor. Spring 2013 THE EPISCOPAL NEW YORKER 11

Prison Ministry

The Rev. Deacon Ann Douglas

Episcopal Congregation at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility<br /> <br /> A different parochial report<br /> <br /> At about 3:45 p.m. on Monday afternoons, the women start coming in to the chapel on the ground level of one of the larger housing units. Dwight, our music leader is already at the piano with today’s music selected and ready to rehearse. It is not a great instrument, but it faces the wooden pews arranged in two columns, can easily be heard and Dwight can direct his “choir.” His faithful choristers arrive as early as possible to practice music from the 1982 Hymnal and Lift Every Voice and Sing. They sign in, hug the Rev. Betsy Roadman and me hello and then go to the front for “rehearsal.” We await the others at the back of the chapel inserting the weekly readings into the red pew copies of the Book of Common Prayer. One of the women likes to use our Spanish prayer book.<br /> <br /> Some of the others who arrive closer to 4 p.m. stop to chat about what is going on in their lives, difficulties with families, appeals and lawyers, court dates, to share photos of their family, and just to get a bit of loving attention. We started out in 2009 with two or three in the congregation and now often have as many as 25. Some sit apart from the others but participate fully. Two of the women recently learned of deaths in their families. They must mourn at a distance, no chance for final words with their loved ones.<br /> <br /> We ask all of them if they would like to take turns being a lesson reader or do the Prayers of the People. We hear voices that are tentative, quiet, reverent, some that are strong and encouraging; all are heartfelt and praise God. I tell them that Episcopalians are a “people of the books” and words matter to us. They understand and do a great job with some difficult phrases and tribes!<br /> <br /> By 4:10 rehearsal is over, we all have our worship materials and we start with a quiet song of call to worship. “Oh Lord prepare me to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true….” Or “Surely the Presence of the Lord is in this place…” It is quiet and sacred, God is present. We are in prison, but not enslaved.<br /> <br /> This simple room with cast off furniture and Catholic statuary is the facility’s multifaith house of worship. I have made colorful seasonal altar hangings for the slight wooden altar. We use large candles, which one of the women faithfully lights with her state issued “Bic” lighter. A small podium stands at the front, near the piano, flanked by chairs for Betsy and me as we sit facing our congregation. We are all the spectrum of ages and ailments, joys and concerns. A rainbow of old, young, troubled, mellow, white, black, Latina, chubby and thin, most do not wear makeup, nearly all are in their state-issued green uniforms, some have colorful shirts on under their blouses. We wear our clericals and simple clothing along with our seasonal stoles.<br /> <br /> We can see signs of arthritis, diabetes, chronic pain, obesity, hypertension, vision issues, hearing loss, and sometimes a deep air of sadness. Those attending are mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters, daughters, wives, nieces, apart from the families who miss them terribly or never loved them at all. They have been convicted of serious crimes committed 20 years ago or just last year. They are passing their time inside with God- a choice they might not have had the opportunity to make before now.<br /> <br /> For fifty minutes each Monday we enter God’s place of love and acceptance, we sing, we pray, we worship, we listen, we love, with no agenda or expectation. We give respect and caring attention to the pains expressed. We laugh at some silly event. We cry over the losses we all feel. It takes several minutes to pass the peace mid-service, bear hugs all around. Communion is taken in wafers and small individual plastic cups of juice, as we stand in a huge circle around the altar. We sing a lively “This Little Light of Mine” as 5 p.m. approaches and with it dismissal.<br /> <br /> In short, we are a parish living and breathing like any other in the diocese, with the benefit of no building to maintain or administrative stuff. We just spend time with each other and God. What a privilege!<br /> <br /> We who serve never forget to be grateful for the opportunity we have been granted to love and serve these women who need and give so much love and positive affirmation. Please pray for all of us as we lift our hearts to the Lord together.<br /> <br /> Deacon Ann Douglas, the Rev. Betsy Roadman and Dwight Douglas conduct a weekly Eucharist in New York State’s only maximum security facility for women.<br /> <br /> Douglas is deacon on staff at All Saints’, Briarcliff Manor.<br /> <br />

Episcopal Diocese Of New York
 

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