A Man I’m Glad to Know

A couple of weeks ago, I got a message that one of our Metanoia Prison Ministry mentees, a man who is also a Master of Arts student in the MINTS Seminary-in-Prison, had asked to terminate his relationship with his mentor.

I was bewildered. Mentees are usually quite grateful to have a mentor. For a prisoner to have someone willing to come inside the prison a couple of times a month and study Scripture, to pray with and for a him or her, to just talk about life, is a rare treat for most incarcerated men and women.

It is unusual for a mentee to complain about his or her mentor. I could only recall one other time that I was aware of when things did not work out between a mentor and mentee.

I was doubly surprised at who the mentee was who wanted to terminate his relationship with his mentor. I have gotten to know David in Seminary-in-Prison classes I teach. He has impressed me as a diligent, hardworking, and cooperative student. It seemed out of character for him to be disgruntled with his mentor.

This week I started a new class on Apologetics and David is in the class. During the break I asked to talk to him.

“So, David, what’s up with you wanting a different mentor?” I asked.

Surprised by my question, he said, “No, I don’t want a new mentor. I’m not unhappy with Cliff. He’s great. I love our times together. But I can’t have a mentor when so many other men have to do without. It’s not right.” 

David had learned that there is a waiting list of more than 120 men at his prison who want a mentor to help them grow in Christ and transform their lives. The average time on the waiting list is 16 months.

“I can’t keep a mentor for myself knowing that others need one too, maybe even more than I do.”

It took me a minute to reply, I choked up a bit at David’s willingness to sacrifice himself for the good of another inmate. This is not common in prisons.

Then I remembered, David is a former Army officer. He is the kind of leader who made sure that his men ate before he ate, that they slept before he slept.

And I was reminded again that none of us should be defined by the worst thing we’ve ever done.

David committed a serious crime, and he is paying a heavy penalty for that crime. But David is more than a man who committed a crime. He is a veteran, a father, a seminary student, a believer, a man of growing integrity, my brother in Christ, and my friend.

I’m glad to know David and it is a privilege to serve him and hundreds like him behind razor wire and prison fences.

Much love, Barry