Preaching in Prison

“I’m going to preach to you today directly from the word of God,” Ryan said. “If it wrinkles your collar, don’t be mad at me, be mad at God.”

He continued, drawing a deep breath.

“Count 1: Malice murder.

Count 2: Malice murder.

Count 3: Possession of a firearm by a convicted felon.”

Ryan continued all the way to Count 13, reciting each of his convictions by heart.

My jaw hit the floor. This man standing before me, a man I call a friend, had committed each of these crimes and been found guilty and sentenced to life in prison with an additional 35 years to boot. How could I reconcile these crimes with the man before me, a man who is good, who is deeply in love with God, who is wholly committed to spreading the Gospel to the incarcerated? How could a man this good and kind have ever done such a thing?

“The man you see standing before you is not the same man I was 23 years ago. We are all broken and in need of a savior. A drowning man isn’t going to ask for a life jacket until he’s drowning. Sometimes we need to come to the end of ourselves for God to use you. How many of us have genuinely had a reckoning with God? Let me tell you, if you walk away from such an encounter unchanged, unscathed, and unaltered, you haven’t really changed. The creature I was 23 years ago, God delivered me from that creature.”

Ryan began to pray. His opening line, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” He wore a hat, blue jeans, and t-shirt. My kind of preacher.

I sat amongst the Church of the Redeemed and the Forgiven. Outside, an unseasonably warm Sunday afternoon lazed away. Twenty-five of us had gathered to worship God, pray, hear a message from Ryan, and eat some Krispy Kreme donuts provided by HeartBound.

His sermon was profoundly impactful for me and the men. “What we honor will honor us. What we dishonor will dishonor us. Man failed and missed the mark, we sheep have gone astray. If we’re honest with ourselves, we’re all no good. Even this man standing up here. We have the sin nature; we’re struggling with it. Spiritually we’re all separated from God because of our sin. We’re living in spiritual and physical death. Revival will never come to the church or this prison system unless we bring an indictment against the sin in our heart.”

Ryan asked each of the men sitting before him to go back in time to the day they were sentenced to prison. “It’s the worst feeling in the world, standing there shackled, waiting on the verdict, knowing what is to come. But imagine that in that horrible moment, a man walked in and said ‘Your honor, stop what you’re doing. I’ll take that sentence for him. I’ll take that sentence in his place and we’ll pardon him. Put that thing on me and let him go. That’s what Jesus did for us. He took our punishment and our guilt.’”

We sang Washed in the Blood together. It sounded horrible - none of us could sing - but we didn’t care, for each of us, singing together, knew that we were washed in the blood indeed. Jesus bore our sentences, no matter what crime we had committed, forgery or racketeering or malice murder. Because He loves us and He wants us to be free.

Thank you, Brother Ryan, for the words of encouragement and the reminder of the goodness of our God. My prayer is that one day Ryan is released from prison and you all can hear him preach in person. We’ll even supply the donuts.

Have a blessed day.

Spencer