CONDEMNED

CONDEMNED

By Rick Mathes

Twenty-six weekend revivals in twenty-six prisons over two states simultaneously! It had never been done before. The logistics of this prison invasion boggled my mind, not to mention the trembling of my heart. Over a thousand volunteers would have to be instructed, assigned, security cleared and coordinated with musicians all at the same time. Well, this overwhelming task sure go my soul winning juices going as I sharpened my marketing skills and committed to this undertaking. Direct mail, church meetings and endless phone calls. A blur of apprehensive Christians caught up in the peer group pressure, contagious excitement, invading prisons for Christ. Setting the captives free

As the December invasion drew nearer, I became disquieted and panicky of possible prison violence and danger. I had recruited these lambs and sent them to the slaughter. The prisoners would chew them up and spit them out. I was walking in fear and doubt. My spirit had weakened and at least I had enough discernment to press on in prayer an fasting in preparation for this spectacular event. While deeply into it, the Lord impressed me on the importance of spiritual combat.

The light turned green and the invasion was a go when I received an eleventh hour call from death row in the state maximum security prison over 100 miles from me. They wanted to participate and not be left out. I volunteered to do a Sunday morning service and the arrangements were made.

I arrived at the penitentiary earlier than the visitors and subsequent to a very meticulous search I was permitted to enter the confined security area clutching my Bible. I entered the walkway with ten thickly screened cages on both sides that were only three feet square and barely tall enough for a man to stand up in. Very comparable to a zoo. Extremely debasing and smothering. I made a stand at the gat and resolved to preach out and down the corridor. I wasn’t sure anyone would show up so I just paced the floor and prayed.

Three hours had passed before all the C. P. (capital punishment) inmates were positioned in these cramped cubicles. Each C.P. had to be brought out one man at a time, cuffed from behind and leg-shackled. A further obstacle was caused by the “No Physical Contact” rule in effect. The unbroken pathway caused much complaining and inconvenience for the other prisoners. One by on they stepped into these disgraceful cages and the cuffs and chains were removed. No physical contact whatsoever. They were phlegmatic and sulky and then it really hit me!

I was in an arena of death row prisoners that had committed crimes that were so unforgivable that civilized society required their lives as retribution. They had all been sentenced to die by lethal injection. Not competent to live. They would all eventually walk that last mile and return in a box. The awesome responsibility for their souls overwhelmed me and it was at that instant that I experienced a tremendous illustration from the Lord that has influenced my ministry to this day.

I opened us up in prayer and began turning to Psalm 51 when I noticed that I couldn’t see the print very well. I searched myself and realized that my glasses were missing and I would be helpless to read the text without them. Why would God do this to me? Didn’t he know how significant this service was? What did he expect me to do now? On my left was a murderous looking convict with a sneer across his disfigured and pock-marked face. Impulsively, I asked him if he could read this for me. He said he would.

I remembered a television service I had watched where the minister had someone read each line, and the preacher would preach. Seemed like a good idea to me, so I put the open Bible against the screen for him to read. And he began to read slowly and reverently, not however pausing for me to preach. Everyone hung on every word and the Spirit of God settled down on them in an incredible way.

When he was through, I couldn’t believe my eyes! One by one they dropped to their knees and began weeping. I hadn’t preached a singe word. Instinctively, I did a call to repentance and they responded as one. We then sang some praise songs to Jesus and the sentry ushered me out and on to the street. My head began to clear and the lesson sunk in.

Jesus Christ had done the service and what could I have possible have added to Psalm 51 but a death row convict to read it? My lesson? The Lord was with them before I got there and that He had remained after I left, still setting captives free 2,000 years later!