We wait.
“Ours is a God who waits.
Who are we not to?”— Father Greg Boyle, Tattoos On the Heart
If you opened this module, your released friend has disappeared in some way. They’re not answering calls or text messages. Maybe you know where they’re at, maybe you don’t.
Either way, the connection is lost. The not-knowing, the silence, is crushing.
This is incredibly painful.
But it’s ok. This is—very often—part of the process.
Your efforts in this journey have not been in vain. You didn’t fail. Rather, our process of dying to our assumptions of what “success” looks like is a central part of practicing resurrection together.
It’s likely your friend has taken some steps back towards the familiar underground. These are old patterns that held them in shadow for years, long before you met. There are webs of old toxic relationships. Old addictions. Faced with so much of the unknown, many men and women lean back into their familiar places of comfort to cope with pain, shame, stress.
It’s a self-burying.
If you’re Lazarus, resurrection can be terrifying.
HEARTBREAK
Breaking, it turns out, is often what opens our hearts most fully.
When I was in college, surrounded by piles of books and papers, I read this, and then wrote it on my apartment wall:
“God instructs the heart not through ideas but through pains and contradictions.”
— Jean Pierre De Caussaude (1675–1751)
In churches, we often insulate ourselves from this ways De Caussaude, above, says God tries to teach us. Instead of pains and contradictions, we build our churches around comforts and false certainties. We wrap ourselves, our services, our children in sermons, songs, liturgies, lessons. We find programs that assure packaged, feel-good results. We protect ourselves and our children from the very way God transforms us, and where Jesus leads his disciples: where our hearts break open.
At the Kickoff Orientation, we talked about the greatest risk we run: not that this person would break into your house, but worse—they could break your heart.
Saying Yes to this heartbreak—as you did at the start of this journey, in choosing to draw near to the prison tombs of our time, letting yourself grow to love someone in there, and with every Welcoming Prayer—you are entering the downward movement of God in Christ.
CHRIST AIMED HIS MOVEMENT DOWNWARD
Christ descends from privilege, comfort, heaven itself (see: Phillipians 2) to our messier human situation. Then this divine love, in the flesh, descended to the lowest parts of human society, where he faced betrayal, disappointment, misunderstanding, letting us arrest and even kill Him. Then God was stuffed into the tomb itself.
In a letter, written decades later, Jesus’ closest follower Peter imagined Jesus continuing his ministry even there—among the dead—bringing the good news of God’s love and embrace even “to the souls in prison.” (1 Peter 3:16)
This is the ever-downward movement of God’s love.
We don’t get to see the resurrection without entering the death part first. That’s where you are now, as a team. With Christ and your loved one, in the tombs. Holy Saturday.
Now is a time to feel the cost of this mystery. To not protect your heart, but to follow Christ’s love for your friend into uncomfortable places. Sit in silence. Pray for them. Let your friend pull your heart into your community’s local underground—wherever they are out there.
It’s ok to cry.
“Maybe God’s heart is the most broken of all.
Maybe that’s why it’s so big.”— Kelly, early One Parish One Prisoner participant
WEEPING
“Jesus wept.” The shortest verse in the entire Bible. (John 11)
It was for his friend Lazarus when Jesus learned Lazarus was in the tomb. It’s possible this weeping, this holy heartbreak of God, is always the first step to resurrection. I have come to believe the weeping may be the secret to the resurrection.
Before the tomb cracks open, a heart breaks open.
When you and your team first started, you didn’t begin with weeping or heartbreak. You didn’t yet know or love your incarcerated friend. It was Christ’s heartbreak for your friend long before He called you to get involved—like the group he called to help roll away the stone. But now you have drawn closer. Now the person underground is your friend. Now you are closer to Jesus’ position.
Your heartbreak is the way into God.
ANGER
You might feel angry. Or confused. ‘Why would he/she do this? After all we’ve given and done?’
You may feel betrayed. ‘Why would he/she lie to me? I trusted him/her!’
These are common feelings. Admit those feelings to each other, and to God, as a prayer.
Then hear Father Greg’s words here (possibly my favorite teaching of his, which has deepened me through years of this work):
“We seek a compassion that stands in awe of what some people have had to carry, rather than standing in judgment of how they carry it.”
— Father Greg Boyle
This disappearing act, this possible relapse—it isn’t about you, dear friend. Your released friend has buckled under the hundred crushing pains already piling up through their life story, and they didn’t handle that weight the way we hoped. They didn’t ask for help in time.
Let’s let the wise words from Fr Greg above help turn our heartbreak from judgment (against our friend, against ourselves, against the program, even) to compassion: “What has your person been carrying?”
You know enough by now to reflect well on this, together. What have you learned about your releasing friend’s story? Their past? Their wounds? Their temptations? Their addictions? Their fears? Their habits? The pressures on them from others, good and bad? As you remember and name these things, let it expand your compassion. That’s the ache in your gut that shifts. It might re-open some awe at what your friend has been carrying. And why they started to slide backwards.
“We are sowing seeds of love, and we are not [always] living in the harvest time so that we can expect a crop.
We must love to the point of folly. And we are indeed fools, as our Lord Himself was, who died for such a one as this. ”— Dorothy Day, founder of the Catholic Worker (1897-1980)
POINTERS
This whole module is largely on the heart level. But here are some very tangible pointers as you hold the heartbreak and wait.
KEEP MEETING
It’s essential to stick together, stay gathered. You need each other during this time. Regular meetings, and maybe an extra meeting to read through this, process, pray, and follow the next monthly modules. More on this below.
1-2 PEOPLE REACH OUT
If someone fell out of the boat, you don’t need everyone reaching out. One or two of you who have the best connection can gently reach out, while the rest of your team can be needed love and support for the outreachers. They’ll need it. This hurts. They need the rest of you.
ZERO PRESSURE
When you reach out, make them simple, loving text messages. We love you. Our whole team is here, we’re not going anywhere. You’re in our prayers. No pleading. No panic. No rushing to fix, or bargain, or rescue. (Study the father in Jesus’ prodigal son parable—below.)
NO MONEY
Now more than ever: relationship over resources. Make that clear boundary and agreement now. Addiction and old survival patterns are likely coming back for your friend. Money won’t help until they are back in recovery, relationship, and reflection. If they reach out, out of the blue, asking for money for something, say you’d rather meet up for coffee first. Catch up. Their response to that invitation will reveal where they are at, what they want at this point in their turning.
RUPTURE & REPAIR
It’s how we do repair work—not walking away—that builds real trust. Trying to keep things perfect—that creates anxiety. The sooner there’s a rupture and you work through it, the better. Look for moments of frustration, miscommunication as opportunities to show that this relationship won’t escalate into great conflict or abandonment. Look for ways to practice gentle clarification, reassurance wherever possible, and respectful conflict resolution.
Much of their life experience tells them you’re just waiting for an opportunity to toss them aside, give up on them, drop them, walk away.
Repair happens with FAITHFULNESS. Staying the course. Continuing the journey.
That’s the consistency from our “Lost Art of Letter Writing” and “The Art of Building Trust” modules: Consistency, Curiosity, Kinship.
Many people in prison have never experienced secure attachment from their caregivers as small children. By being a “secure base” as a small community (not one person trying to be a savior, be everything), a team of relationships that doesn’t abandon or disappear but remains steady and available, with honest boundaries of what’s ok and what’s not, you are part of what therapists call “attachment repair.”
This is where you grow as a team in the work of love. Not reacting and trying to fix or control the situation (fight), not giving up (flight), not leaving an awkward silence between your team (freeze). Keep meeting regularly, hear each other’s frustrations and concerns.
WELCOMING PRAYER
Lean into the prayer that has hopefully been guiding your team—and preparing your hearts—this entire journey. We let go of control. We let go of our need for approval. We welcome whatever this season is with our releasing friend. We trust this can be part of our healing. We welcome God’s healing action and grace within.
Scott Erickson @scottthepainter
The impulse to control may be strong for some of you at this point, where things are out of your control.
Don’t try to fix this person’s life. Discuss how best to remain steady as a loving, available team of support. No condemnation, blame, or disappointment.
Just, “We’re here. We care about you. We aren’t sure how to best be helpful given the path you’re walking right now. We can’t give financial help at this point, but when you want to get together and talk about what you’re going through, we can’t wait to hear from you.”
WAITING
So that’s the work right now: waiting.
Waiting is anti-control. It’s complete powerlessness.
When pain in the brain tries to
fight (frantically try to fix the situation)
flight (the team scattering, not meeting, drifting)
or freeze (act like nothing is happening, back to life as before, or just hiding, numb)
the work of healing is to sit in the pain.
Waiting is an act of hope.
We know this—from every Advent season before Christmas, right? Advent should be training us to be good at sitting in darkness, like right now.
STICK CLOSE TOGETHER NOW
Be aware of the impulse to isolate, or distract yourself. Be aware of the person on your team who might be taking this the hardest. Check in with each other as you read this module. Set a team meeting sooner rather than later. Don’t correct each other, but listen to each other’s feelings. Love one another.
AT YOUR TEAM MEETING:
This month when you meet as a team, instead of having “DISCUSSION” questions about the months’ learning module, we have a different experience for you. Please use these important 30 minutes together by slowly reading through a familiar parable—the story of the son who receives so much and then disappears.
Maybe you’ve heard of the spiritual practice called Lectio Divina. If not, don’t worry. The idea is to read a passage of scripture slowly together, prayerfully, with silence, listening to where God’s Spirit might be speaking directly into your heart through words or moments in the passage.
LUKE 15 : 11-15 - THE STORY OF THE LOST SON
Have one person read this whole story through, slowly, while the group listens in prayer.
Then one person can ask these guiding questions below—and the group can answer openly. (We included some common responses recorded in other One Parish One Prisoner team meetings we’ve joined.) This is a space to read the story and process the hurt and confusion of your friend’s disappearance. Maybe we can find ourselves in this story, and the story can guide us back to the heart of God, together.
What part of this familiar story stands out to you now, in a new way?
“It’s never too late to be welcomed back.”
“Unconditional love.”
“I see the son’s feelings of unworthiness. What JR must be feeling right now, afraid to take our calls?”
“The brother is hurt, and I can kinda understand why, now.”
How has your released friend departed? Are there any similarities, or differences, with how the son goes in a suddenly different direction?
“Well, T— didn’t tell any of us, or ask for anything.”
“Both of them must think they can find what they’re looking for out there.”
“I think his addiction is raging. And like this son here, it starts with wanting more, material stuff—resources over relationship?” Silence. “Well, maybe that applies to all of us.”
Does the father plead, bargain or try to convince the son to change his mind? What does the father do when the son shares his hurtful plan? What does the father do when the son takes off?
“No. He doesn’t even try to stop him.”
“It’s like he’s in touch with what the son might need to do—and he’s not trying to control the situation… to protect himself from sadness?”
“It’s like the father is not codependent, at all.”
“His heart is able to grieve.”
“He just… waits.
What turns the son to come back?
“He hits rock bottom.”
“He came to himself, it says.”
“Like he remembers who he really is. His true self. His value.”
“That’s my prayer for Sh—”
How does the father respond when the son comes back?
“There’s no ‘I told you so.’”
“He sees him a long way off. Like he’d been waiting, hoping, the whole time.”
“He doesn’t hide how happy he is to see him. Man, if I saw B— tonight walking through those doors, I might hug him just like that.”
“The father throws a party. For us, that’d be party number two—after he got out the first time!”
“Right? Maybe there’s something to that. I mean, he even says: ‘He was dead, and now he’s alive!’”
“But the brother doesn’t see it that way. This will be hard to explain to others in the church. Definitely B— disappearing. But maybe there will be hard conversations, grumbling, when—hopefully—B comes back.”
“I think the way the father goes out to the other son and really wants him to share his joy, understand his heart and love—that’s how we’d have to talk with our families and other folks at church.”
Yes—”He was dead, and now he’s alive.” The son wasn’t literally dead.
Jesus’ has a larger imagination of death and new life. As if it’s a relational, spiritual geography. And so the parable of the lost/prodigal son is another story of practicing resurrection.
MUSIC HELPS
Maybe leave space at the end to listen to this song together as a closing prayer.
May you, your team, your church, and your released friend all know God’s heart more deeply in this time.
WHILE STILL IN PRISON?
If this all happens while they’re still locked up, after a few attempts and letters/emails to check if the last message didn’t get through—or, if there’s a real breakdown of communication:
Wonder, together: given what we know about the situation, given what we know about him/her and their story, and what we know from our own life experience, what might this person be feeling on the other side of the silence?
After a few weeks, write again. No drama, no hard questions. Just a word of blessing. Or empathy for what may be the difficulty he/she is facing. Basically: We’re still here.
Pray for your friend. Ask God, together, What do you want to teach us about your heart, in this moment?
Reach out to us at Underground Ministries to consult.