A Sacred Space Between

Each Wednesday I accompany a friend to a local prison to visit women who are interested in nurturing their faith. Some of them are sampling the Bible for the first time and the gospel of John has been a popular place of beginning. Though John's "in the beginning" provides a good place to start, he isn't explicit about how things began, so during a recent visit I made a stab at sharing our faith as it unfolds in Genesis. The effort was a longer shot than I imagined, mainly because, no matter how long you think it took God to create the world, the span of Genesis covers many centuries and includes countless stories. The hour and a half we have on Wednesdays is hardly enough time to even tell the story of the flood. So when I offered to give an overview I didn't realize that it's simply impossible for a storyteller--this storyteller anyway-- to do an overview. My overview in the end would be an over, under, around and through-view. Nevertheless, in the spirit of encouragement, I told the women about Abraham and Sarah's decision to include Hagar in their family planning, about Rebecca and Jacob wresting Esau's birthright from Isaac, about Jacob's older sons selling their brother Joseph to Egypt. 

The problem was that no one sitting with me was familiar with any of the stories in my overview and were no doubt getting stuck on words like birthright. Most of the stories couldn't have been less familiar had I spoken in German or Italian. Too late I realized that the information I experience as fascinating wasn't all that interesting to them. Too late I realized that the story is too involved, too strange, and too long for a one-stop shop. So right in the middle of the wilderness, between Egypt and the Promised Land, I stopped, took a deep breath and asked if there were any questions--anything at all so I could just stop talking for awhile. Quite a few moments passed during which I wondered how to end the session--if even I could rustle up something remotely applicable to their situation (besides Joseph's experience in prison). Finally one woman spoke up: "They had to wait in the desert for 40 years?" 

"Yes!" my friend quickly responded, no doubt to prevent the overview from resuming. She had been sitting wide-eyed and white-knuckled as I talked, her mouth stretched into a tight grin. "It would take 40 years for new faith to be born." Relaxing a little, she added, "The unbelieving generation had to die off first."

The inmate sitting beside me then made the most amazing and unexpected connection. "It’s like that here," she said. "We get sent to prison because we're enslaved to drugs. We do everything we can to get out so we can go back to doing what got us here in the first place." I looked around and noticed that all the women were smiling and nodding. "But while I was in the hole* a few weeks back," she continued, "I decided to use the time to read the Bible. I know now that prison can be a place where change can happen so that when I get out things can be different. So, yeah. This place is like the desert. If I can just stop trying to get back to Egypt, maybe I can move forward.” 

Well, that was a beautiful understanding of Genesis and Exodus that surely hadn't come from me.

Our story of faith is about people who, in one way or another, make an acquaintance with God; real flesh and blood people who laugh and worry, plead and weep. The many plot lines reveal that all are capable of good but bent to harm to themselves and their families. Like Noah, who finds favor with God and becomes an instrument of salvation but ends up cursing his own son; or Abraham, who believes God and wins an eternal reputation of faith, but who also lies, laughs inappropriately, and exposes his first son. Through it all, God stays, mending the broken threads of each storyline to save, restore and reconcile. Though not everything that happens is good, it will all have served a very good ending when the whole story-the story in which you and I and the women at the local prison participate--is finally complete. 

I offered my overview with the intention of showing that our famous faith-fathers and mothers were themselves quite experienced in making bad decisions, some of which resulted in devastating and lasting consequences. I wanted to demonstrate that no one after reading these stories can conclude that they've landed outside the realm of hope. In the process I came to realize that God may have other things to teach beyond my intentions. What felt to be a wretched overview resulted in my deep appreciation for the inmate who taught me something about the sacred space between Egypt and The Promised Land; to learn to welcome those "spaces between" myself.

So my overview of this experience? Even when we tell God's story poorly or at least not as brilliantly as we had hoped, God is pleased and often comes along to help the hearer and maybe even the storyteller make potentially brilliant connections. 

*The "hole" means solitary confinement, discipline for infractions committed inside.