For the first time in my ministry I entered death row. The night before the execution I could hardly sleep. I spent the night reading my Bible and praying.
I could not imagine myself standing next to someone, created in God's image, someone whom God still loved, and some one whose life would be taken away by human hands. That was the most frightening experience of my life.
But that was some years ago. Since then one of the most interesting parts of my ministry has been to work as a prison chaplain, especially in maximum security prisons housing hard-core criminals. During my 10 years of this ministry in Zambia, I have discovered that prisoners fall into three groups.
Three groups of prisoners
The first group consists of those who are sorry for their past. They want to reform and be better citizens when they finish serving their jail sentences. The second group includes those who are not repentant but only afraid of the consequences of their crime. They pride themselves on being courageous enough to have committed their crimes. If given the opportunity to be pardoned, they would go back to their old lives of crime. But when they think about their execution, fear grips them. The third group is the "I don't care" type. They are so hardened that even on the day of their execution they look defiant, tough, and fearless.
The prisoners and the Word
The majority of prisoners are receptive to the Word of God. Separation from their families and the world at large depresses them, and they think of trying God. To those who might have been church goers, prison is the time they want God to work miracles to procure their release. Some of them seem to turn into strong believers while in prison, but on their release they are often worse than when they went in. Of ten prisoners I have ministered to in prison who seemed to have accepted God, only four remained attached to a strong faith after release.
To go with someone to the gallows is one of the worst experiences in one's life. As a minister, I want to take that last-minute opportunity to lead that person to God, who alone knows the depths of one's heart and who alone can forgive and lead people to the kingdom of God.
Every living person must strive to end his or her life in Jesus, looking forward to that resurrection to eternal life. I want to offer that hope to prisoners on death row.
The power of the Word
Once I was invited by a prison authority to minister to three people who were to be executed. Walking into the prison, I found those helpless prisoners in a desperate situation. My impression was that with death approaching in two days' time, they would accept salvation freely given to them.
It was one of the most difficult moments in my prison ministry. All three men shouted at me, "What do you want here? We don't need you. Where is the loving God you have preached about so many times? We are now going to be executed, and He can't save us. Down with you and your God."
My efforts to make them listen were fruitless. They closed their ears and continued shouting so that they could not hear my words. I thought of church members who would carry their Bibles to church for worship. They would appear to be listening to the preacher, and yet their minds would be far away, sometimes even committing sin in their minds while sitting in front of God. I gathered courage and hope and spoke to the three prisoners who seemed to have shut their ears. But I went home a very discouraged person.
The same kind of behavior confronted me the following day. But the execution day was different for one of the inmates. He knew his life was approaching the end. He realized that even the head of state, who sometimes pardoned prisoners, could not pardon him. He was so afraid of death that he could not stand. His body was wet with sweat. He was shivering terribly. By then he did not have the strength to shout at a preacher. He was utterly hopeless. The law he broke was so vivid in his mind that now he was regretting having murdered some one. As I arrived where he was sitting, he looked into my eyes as if wanting to say something. I sat down with him and asked him whether he was willing to listen to me, and he said, "Yes, pastor."
I started my counsel by reminding him that he had only 20 minutes more to live and that he must use those 20 minutes wisely. I related the story of how Jesus was crucified with two thieves. I told him of how one of those thieves was convinced that Jesus was the Son of God. When the multitude did not see who Jesus was, this dying thief saw that the Life-giver was within his reach. I read to him the plea of this thief, and Jesus' response.
Almost instantly hope seemed to take over his life. He looked at me with a smile. The shivering stopped and the sweat dried up. He spoke in a soft voice: "Pastor, I have never entered the doors of the church all my life. Let me tell you, pastor, all my life I have lived an evil life, and I have killed many people, for which I have not been charged. Pastor, do you think your Jesus can forgive me like He forgave that robber?" I assured him that if he took the same stand, he could receive the same forgiveness. I read him Psalm 103:12 (NIV): "As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us." Then I read John 5:28, 29: "A time is coming when all who are in their graves will hear His voice and come out---those who have done good will rise to live, and those who have done evil will rise to be condemned."
Two things amazed him that morning. The first was to know that Jesus can forgive all kinds of sin, including murder. The second was the resurrection of the dead to eternal life.
Society may pass its judgment, but Heaven can forgive and provide the hope of a place in the kingdom to come. I understood that day the words of Hebrews 4:12: "For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart."
The Word of God, sharper than a double-edged sword, penetrated this hard core criminal's heart and brought a change in 15 minutes. At that point his face changed. He looked like someone who has just stumbled upon the greatest treasure, some one very excited, who for joy does not quite know what to do with the treasure. He repeated the words of that criminal crucified with Jesus several times: "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." These words sounded sweet to him, and death was no longer frightening. His heart was at peace with Jesus and His promises.
We knelt down to pray. I asked him to pray first. The man who had never prayed offered one of the most powerful prayers I have ever listened to. Words of praise were flowing from his lips as if he were reciting a memorized psalm.
After both of us prayed, we walked side by side to the gallows. He was walking with energy and excitement, like someone going to board an airplane for the first time. His steps were longer than usual. He walked to ward death with Christ, looking forward to the resurrection.
After everything was set for his execution, he made one humble request, and that was to be given time to pray. Again, he offered a prayer I'll never forget. Part of his prayer was as follows: "God whose love is unmeasurable, I thank You because today You have washed away my record of being a murderer. The men who are in this room know me as a criminal of the worst type, but Lord, I stand here as Your child, ready to take a little rest in the grave while You are making final touches on our heavenly home."
At the end of his prayer he said to me, "Pastor, I only want to hear two voices: yours as my life ends and the voice of Jesus when He will call me to come out of the grave." I said to him, "See you, my brother, on that great resurrection morning." With that we said farewell.
The funeral presented me another occasion to turn to God's Word and speak to the prison officers and prisoners who had come to bury the executed one. I spoke of the forgiveness available in Jesus. I turned to Revelation 14:13 and offered the hope of resurrection to all who accept Jesus.
One officer told those present, "This criminal we are burying today is not the criminal you knew. He is in the hands of the Lord. He has confessed all his sins." Six months later all the prisoners who attended the burial of that criminal and two officers were baptized.
The word of God is powerful. It trans forms. It gives hope. It saves.
