Pickleball... In Prison

Juan leapt in the air.

Rapidly descending from above him was a small, green, plastic ball.

He cranked his arm backwards, then whirled it forward.

The racket ignited with the ball.

The ball shot forward, cleared the net, then rocketed down. It grazed the concrete just inside the boundary line, then skidded out of bounds.

George had read Juan’s spike perfectly. He was in position and ready. He swung his paddle through the air, a clean forehand.

He whiffed.

I called out, “Point to Juan.”

Juan leapt in the air. He shook a fist to the sky, claiming victory. His voice hollered out for all to hear. Once he’d landed back on the ground, he strutted around like a prizefighter who had just felled his opponent on the world’s biggest stage. His shoulders were laid back, his head held high.

For a moment, he was invincible. He was the King. The Greatest of All Time.

Looking at Juan, you would have never guessed that he was a 5’7” middle-aged convicted felon, wearing state-issued prison blues.

You would have thought he was Rafael Nadal or Roger Federer by the swagger he carried himself with.

The game continued.

All through the match, Juan talked trash – some in English, some in Spanish. He laughed, he sweated.

Afterwards, Juan and George shook hands. Juan stood to the side as he wiped his perspiring head.  

“Juan, I never knew you had that competitive fire,” I called out.

He smiled. I can’t remember what he said back. I just remember the big smile.

What does a game of pickleball have to do with prison ministry? After all, I’ve yet to find a Bible verse discussing the merits of pickleball.

But we believe that as a ministry, you have to earn the right to be heard. Our ministry is effective because we work tirelessly to earn that right. We sponsor games like pickleball to earn the trust of prisoners and correctional staff. We show that a Christian life can and should be filled with goodness and fun and laughter (and maybe even a little sweat!). We sing karaoke in prisons and serve meals and donate clothing and warm socks and art supplies because Jesus commands us to love our neighbors, even those who live behind razor wire.

It would be much easier to show up to a prison once or twice a month, host a Bible study or worship service, then pack it up and move on. We wouldn’t have to drive as much, and we wouldn’t have to raise as much money to fund so many programs. We’d probably be able to publish a nice end of year report that details how many people came to our services.

But to truly change hearts and minds for Christ, to truly affect someone’s life, we believe you need to be a constant presence. That you need to earn the right to be heard.

And if that means playing a little pickleball in prison from time to time, so be it.

Game on. 

Spencer