NWACCC Eucharist Ministry

Our Story

You could say that St. Paul’s prison ministry began in Lowell Grisham’s front yard.  More about that in a minute, but first you should know that this ministry centers around a Sunday evening Eucharist at the women’s prison just a block south on College Avenue from St. Paul’s parking lot. Clergy from Episcopal churches in Northwest Arkansas and Good Shepherd Lutheran church preside.  Lay members of St. Paul’s prison ministry participate, and usually four or five of us are there, along with up to thirty residents.

One day in the spring of 2008, Lowell was working in his yard when a man stopped his car and got out to introduce himself.  He told Lowell that he had just come from visiting his daughter at the prison, which is just a few blocks away.  He was an Episcopalian, and he asked if Lowell would take communion to his daughter.  Lowell asked the warden, who said yes, and so in the chaplain’s office of the Northwest Arkansas Community Correctional Center he presided over the Holy Eucharist for this young woman and several of her cellmates.

That event led to an offer from St. Paul’s to conduct a Christmas Eve service. Suzanne Stoner presided, and about fifty residents participated. Prison policies do not allow residents to touch other people. Suzanne told me that when she came to the passing of the peace, she wasn’t sure she could say the words if the participants could not touch. The warden was standing in the back of the room, and when she and Suzanne made eye contact the warden opened her arms wide.  Warden and priest then hugged each of the women.

Soon thereafter the warden invited St. Paul’s to serve the Eucharist on Sunday evenings, and we are still doing that. The no-touch rule is still in force (with a very few exceptions), so at the passing of the peace we bow to each other with hands in prayer and say “the peace of the Lord be always with you.”  No touching, but the words and the eye contact are as heartfelt as any handshake or hug.

So who are these people confined in a “correctional center” up the street from us? They are women convicted of non-violent felonies serving sentences of three years or less. They are mothers and grandmothers, some well-educated and some not so. Almost all are dealing with addictions and/or have suffered abuse, often at the hands of family members. We know them to be children of a loving God, but they are caught up in a system which criminalizes addiction. They often feel forgotten, and they are grateful when our team shows up, Sunday after Sunday.   

This part of Arkansas’ penal system is more therapeutic and educational than the prisons for those convicted of more serious crimes. Our Sunday Eucharist is part of a larger support system, involving churches, recovery groups, and educational programs.  That the women are referred to as “residents” instead of “inmates” is intentional, but they are in prison, their daily lives are tightly controlled by prison staff, and, most importantly, they are separated from their families, their children.

Given these circumstances, I am amazed by the residents’ cheerfulness, their full-throated participation in the liturgy, and their singing.  Especially the singing. They are thrilled by small gestures, like the flowers prepared for them by St. Paul’s Flower Guild every Sunday.  They crowd around the altar to see and smell the lovely flowers. On Sundays when one of the residents is about to be released we all take part in a ceremony called “Blessing Out.” The residents and team members form a circle around the one who is leaving and stretch out their arms toward her while the priest offers a blessing and anoints her with oil.  

In that moment we are all happy for the one who is being released, but also aware that getting out does not insure success. Some will go back to their old communities, which can entrap them in their old lives, like one participant in our services who was murdered not long after her release. That tragic event led St. Paul’s to establish Magdalene Serenity House, which defines itself as “a community of healing for women survivors of sexual exploitation and addiction as they move toward a life that is spiritually rich, economically self-sufficient, emotionally full, and drug free.”

The residents look forward to two special events during the year; a Christmas Eve service at the prison, and a baptismal service for residents, held at St. Paul’s in late summer. The baptisms and rededications, which are by immersion in a baptistery set up outside, are followed by a reception in the Parish Hall. 

Finally, I want to share with you some of what members of the Prison Ministry Team have to say about their experiences.  They use expressions like “joy,” blessed,” and “called,” as in “called to do this work.”  One member of our team spoke for all of us when she said:

“I feel like I was led to this ministry….I went one Sunday evening four years ago and have been every Sunday since when I’m in town.  For the very first time I felt changed, transformed.  It made my heart burn, as Lora Walsh put it, when you know that something is what God wants you to do.  I really felt like I get it now.  This is what Jesus teaches us.  This kind of love, this kind of nonjudgmental love for one another, is the real meaning of Christian love and community, and it is how we should live our lives….I’m so very grateful to have found my ministry!  Thank you, St. Paul’s for helping me.”

Each Sunday evening we share the Eucharist with a group of women whom we have come to know and love, and that service takes on new levels of meaning in the basement of a prison.  It’s not so much that we are ministering to them as that we are ministering to each other as equals, and that is the residents’ great gift to us. 

Bob McMath
for the Prison Ministry Team
July 2018