By Ash Baker
Last October 17, I shared Communion in Klong Prem prison (aka “The Bangkok Hilton”) for the first time. I now visit each week with Chris McCartney, a member of our team who has been going there for more than a year. It”s become a high point in my weekly routine, though not without challenges.
When Chris first asked me to accompany him, I was outwardly thrilled, but quietly uncertain about how to meaningfully share Communion with these guys. Francis, for example, is in his 60s and has been in jail more than 40 years. What could we offer such men in the second half of their lives, now sick and in the prison hospital with no end in sight, that wouldn”t sound like a cheap cliché?
ETERNITY NOW
The big day finally arrived, and Chris and I left our identification with the guards, had our bags checked””including a long search through the pages of our Bibles (for some reason)””and eventually walked through the huge prison gates and up to the fourth floor of the hospital wing. We met the guys, who smiled, eagerly welcomed us, and took us to the regular meeting room.
Chris had arranged for us to first make ham, cheese, and salad sandwiches together. The conversation started slowly, then died completely as we ate. Chris made the most of the quiet moment by turning to me and saying, “OK, we will share Communion.”
I”d planned to read just a little about Communion from the Bible, and then to explain the simple meaning of the elements. But as I started to read a letter written by Paul (another prisoner) about the last meal of Jesus (eaten just before he was arrested and executed), I was suddenly struck by the revolutionary relevance of Christian hope here. Even in the direst of circumstances there is a promised hope for a better future, and that eternal existence can be tasted and experienced together now.
The Spirit seemed to come upon us in a special way, and the guys around the table seemed to respond to the elements as they were explained and consumed. We prayed together, and there seemed to be an authentic connection with the eternal.
REVOLUTIONARY HOPE
You and I are not in the same situation as the guys in Klong Prem, but sometimes we do despair about our circumstances; we are all locked up in various ways. As you read the verses I shared with these fellows, consider afresh the revolutionary hope we have in our circumstances:
For I pass on to you what I received from the Lord himself. On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and said, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this to remember me.” In the same way, he took the cup of wine after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant between God and his people””an agreement confirmed with my blood. Do this to remember me as often as you drink it.” For every time you eat this bread and drink this cup, you are announcing the Lord”s death until he comes again (1 Corinthians 11:23-26, New Living Translation).
1. Hope found in Christ”s body: We can find true belonging with others.
Disputes in the Corinthian church seemed to have divided the people, but in Christ Jesus we belong to one body (1 Corinthians 1:10-17). This is the meaning of the bread. Envy and quarrels are normal for fallen humans, but in Christ they can be quenched because no one is better than another. Our worth as humans is because of whom we belong to, so no one is of more value in Christ than another person (1 Corinthians 12:13).
This is revolutionary hope for prisoners who might feel forgotten and who live at the very bottom of the pile. Even the most upwardly mobile of us can always compare ourselves with someone we consider more worthy, successful, or valuable. The bread as the body of Christ offers hope that helps us let go of status, ego, and comparisons, and simply belong to Christ, no better and no worse than others.
We need this radical egalitarianism and grace, for we cannot find real hope and peace by ourselves or in ourselves. This is especially so for those of us who have an inbuilt drive to compete against others, needing to win at all costs.
Only as men and women equally valued together in Christ”s wonderful body can we find hope and peace. Those at the bottom in the world”s eyes are therefore lifted up by Christ. Those the world considers to be at the top are brought down and made equal to those who are most despised (see Mary”s song recorded in Luke 1:46-56). It”s no wonder Jesus calls this “good news to the poor” in his inaugural address in Nazareth(Luke 4:18, 19).
The hope of one loaf, then, is this: if we let go of our individualism and join with others as “one in Christ,” we will truly find the freedom our hearts and lives long for. Without such belonging we are left isolated and lonely in our prison of despair, beating some in comparison, but beaten by others. Together, however, we can be the body of Christ in this suffering world, with all the sacrifice that requires, and share in the wonder that Jesus lived to see real change happen through us.
2. Hope found in Christ”s blood: We can find real forgiveness of past hostilities.
Some in prison are ashamed of the hostilities they”ve experienced and instigated. The memories eat away at them in the quiet darkness of the cell. The hurt they have caused others, especially their loved ones, can be the most difficult part of “doing time.”
More often than not, however, prisoners feel as though hurting others is justified; that revenge was required and that someone had that hit coming to him. In organized crime contexts, revenge is an understood requirement of keeping honor intact. The revenge between gangs escalates, leaving many maimed and dead bodies in its destructive wake. The cycle of revenge seemingly has no end.
The Corinthian church was a hurting church. In fact, the people even hurt one another when they shared Communion (1 Corinthians 11:20-22). The wine symbolizes the blood of Jesus that quenches the need for the revenge of hurts. Blood is the symbol of forgiveness and the covenant that requires deep forgiveness and reconciliation.
Holding onto hurts and seeking revenge (however politely we may do that in church circles) only hurts us more. Letting go and giving these hostilities to the Christ who bled for all is the only way to find hope for a peaceful future. This is not passive or stoic acceptance, but finding our responses to people and circumstances in the light of what Christ has done. We are free to seek the long-term well-being of those around us because Jesus does.
Sometimes that means assertively telling people when their actions hurt us, and even walking away from people who continually hurt us. But we do those things not as revenge, but for their sakes as human beings intended by God to reflect his glory. And we do those things for our own well-being. Hurting others is not what Jesus intends for anybody, and he gives power through his sacrificial blood to make this new life possible.
Hurtful addictions are perhaps as common in churches as prisons. We can get into increasingly darker cycles and find no way out of our self-made, prisonlike existence. The 12-step movement has been instrumental in helping millions of people affected by cycles of addictions. Admitting our nature and our wrongs and seeking a higher power beyond ourselves certainly draw on what the blood of Jesus helps to make real for us. Christians certainly can do worse than joining 12-step groups, but we dismiss the power of Christ”s blood to quench addictions and cycles of hostilities at our own peril. We have real freedom to find and offer in the blood of Christ.
3. Hope found in Christ”s return: We can find a trustworthy promise of a new tomorrow (with a world “put to rights”).
We took our cups in jail that day and raised them as if for a toast. “Until he returns,” I said. “Until he returns,” they repeated, as glasses clinked together.
Jesus promised there would be a day when all wrongs are righted, and until that day we must be on the side of what is right. I don”t believe this will be on another planet with disembodied spirits, but that Jesus” resurrection was “the first fruits of new creation” (1 Corinthians 15:21-28). Just as Jesus” resurrected body was transformed, so too will be our bodies and our whole world.
What we are doing here on earth is not just renovating the building before its demolition. We are seeking to see God”s kingdom come on earth as it is in Heaven. What we do in this life matters, and nothing we do that is good and true will be wasted. It somehow all gets transformed and lives for eternity. Bad and false things will not last. Jesus promised this, and we need to keep that at the forefront of all our decisions, and especially where we invest our time, energy, and creativity.
When I look at how some of the prisoners serve other prisoners with simplicity and love, I know they are investing in the future with hope. When I see how stressed some Christians get in trying to gain bigger houses, more cars, and the latest gadgets””and the price they pay in broken families and relationships””I think they have forgotten to invest in hope for “that day.”
When Christ returns to put everything right, I doubt anybody will be worrying about what homes, wheels, or toys they have. I do think, however, that if we keep Jesus” life, death, and resurrection at the forefront of our minds, and if we invest in a future that focuses on his promised return, then we will live extraordinary, revolutionary lives that matter to God. Surely nothing can compare with that.
Which element of Christian hope do you most need to experience today?
True belonging with others?
Real forgiveness of past hostilities?
Trustworthy promise of a new future?
Please pray as my prisoner friends did that day, and join with others in partaking in the revolutionary hope found in Communion. It”s a hope all the world desperately needs to experience and share.
Ash Barker serves as director of Urban Neighbors of Hope in Bangkok, Thailand.
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