I Broke the Only Rule in an African Prison

There’s a line from the original Willy Wonka movie that I think about often: "For some moments in life there are no words." I honestly can’t even remember the exact context in which the line is uttered. I only remember the line. And I think about it a lot when I’m here in Mozambique.

Today was one of those days. I know I won’t be able to adequately capture everything that happened today because there are no words to do so. But here’s my attempt.

This morning was a slower morning for our group. A couple of hours after breakfast, we went out into homes in Chaimite. Just to help everyone out because I’ll be using some the names of the villages, here’s a little map:

Pastor Benidito, the pastor our church supports financially, oversees four churches here in Gaza. The first church building to be built was in Macaluane. The second was in Mukotwene. The third church building was just built this spring on the other side of Macaluane. And while the forth church, the church in Chaimite, does not have a church building yet, the church has formed and meets in a tent.

We are praying that one day our church (The Corners Chapel) may be able to help support the building of a structure in Chaimite. So, we have centered our mission efforts this year in this village.

This morning, we started by visiting homes in Chaimite. Most of these homes are reed huts, half-built concrete dwellings, or other habitations made out of various materials.

We broke into teams of three or four people (with a translator who speaks Changana) and went into the villages, inviting people to church and telling them about Jesus. There are more amazing stories than I can share, but I know for me personally, I was blown away by the hospitality of all the people. Each house we went to, I was genuinely moved by the openness of each person and their willingness to listen.

After lunch, we broke into two teams – men and women.

The women went to two different women’s discipleship groups. One was in the tent in Chaimite where the church currently meets, and the other was in the compound where we’re staying. From what I hear, these groups were incredible as well. Several of the ladies were able to share. While I didn’t get a complete rundown from the ladies who met in the discipleship group in the compound, I heard from the other group that Momma Jones, Laney, and Ariana all shared great words of encouragement. I was also told that the topics of their talks were all similar, even though they did not communicate about that happening beforehand! It’s amazing how God lined up their thinking!

Meanwile, while the ladies were in the discipleship groups, the men went to the prison.

Pastor Benidito asked me a couple of days ago if I would be willing to preach in the local prison in Chibuto. All the men were able to go as well. Our meeting in the prison was scheduled for 1:00 pm sharp. So, we left promptly at 2:20 and made sure to stop on the way to buy some gifts for the prisoners. I guess that made up for the fact that we were going to get there over 90 minutes late. (Note: If you would like to join us on a trip like this in future years, start preparing yourself now for the fact that time simply operates differently here. If something is scheduled for 4, it might even start at 6!)

Anyway, we were told ahead of time that we needed to bring our passports.

But when we got there, we were told to leave our passports in the car and to hand over our cell phones. In fact, we were told at least four times that we were not to have any cell phones or electronics that could record. I asked Pastor Benidito if I could bring my tablet, and he said it was okay. So, we headed in.

I didn’t know what to expect. I’m sure we’ve all seen movies with prisons in under-resourced countries, and even if we have not seen them in movies, we can all imagine the violence that must take place inside. Which is why I was surprised to go in and see all the prisoners in plain clothes sitting in the middle of an area that did not look much different on the inside than it did from the outside. Also, I was shocked to find out that the prison is made up of over 140 men and only 6 women! Even more surprising, they all live and coexist together in the same space!

The feeling of vulnerability that I felt walking in with no phone and no passport was one like I’ve never felt before. I was shocked that there were no metal detectors. I was even more taken aback by the fact that we were not thoroughly searched. However, when the large metal door shut behind us, I was left with no doubt that we were in prison.

After all the men in our group were able to introduce themselves and give a brief word of encouragement, I stood up to preach.

However, almost right away I heard orders being shouted across the space.

“No tablet!”

It turns out Pastor Benedito had been mistaken! I had broken the only rule we had been given!

So, they took my tablet away.

Now, without a passport, without a phone, and without a tablet, I was able to finally present the gospel to the prisoners.

The men listened attentively. At the end, I prayed for them. I reminded them that we are only a part of a team that’s here, and our team here is only a small part of a church back home who is praying for them. The message ended. We handed out our gifts to them, and then sat back down. That’s when two things happened that I have not been able to fully process yet.

First, the men began to sing. They sang the same beautiful song that the women sang yesterday to us in the agricultural fields. It’s a Mozambican song about hope. But when the women sung it yesterday in the fields, the song was filled with joy and listening to it, you could not help but feel as if you were being swept away in a current of thanksgiving and contentment.

But when the men sang, the words were the same, but the emotions were different. In a lower octave, the same words were sung solemnly, gravely, yet still with a hint of hope. The current of their song cut into my heart and implanted a message that said, “Don’t give up on us.”

I went to preach to them, but through song they preached to me.

After they sang, one of the prisoners stood up as a representative of the group. He expressed his thankfulness for our coming and shared with us some needs. For example, they are all in real need of toothbrushes and toothpaste. Our team has already started to talk about how we can try and involve our church in ways to make this happen.

But it’s the last thing he said that has stuck with me. I don’t remember his exact phrasing, but he said something to the effect of the prisoners will continue to think of our church often. He did not say this with a hint of fabrication, but with full sincerity.

They will be thinking of us.

I don’t think I have the words yet to fully process what this means.

Well, this blog is already getting a bit lengthy, so I won’t talk much about the crusade from tonight. All I’ll say is that the movie Pilgrim’s Progress was shown, Pastor Benidito gave me the privilege of speaking tonight, and many people came forward to profess faith in Jesus.

Tomorrow is our third and final crusade, and we have many other activities in the day in both Macaluane and Mukotwene that we are also excited about, so we’ll save a crusade recap for tomorrow.

For now, I’m going to go to bed trying to process what happened today in one small African prison.

A prison where even though we've left, a part of us has stayed. We’ve stayed in the minds and hearts of those who have made mistakes but are not outside the saving power of Jesus.  And even when we return home next week, we’ll stay in the minds and hearts of the leaders and members of the churches here in Gaza.

God really is a global God.

And to fully explain that, I haven’t got the words.