BOOK 1: RELATIONSHIP WITH THE UNDERGROUND
From the voices of our incarcerated friends: Trust creates an environment for healing.
THE SPEED OF TRUST
Years ago I met with a man who helped guys in prison put their reentry plans together. He wasn’t staff. He was still incarcerated himself. Bertram has seen guys do well after release, and he’s seen guys come right back.
I asked him, based on his ten years in a tiny office off the prison chapel, meeting with guys about to be released, “What’s the most important part of preparing for reentry?”
He didn’t talk about housing or resources. He told me it’s when the guys start telling him stories. Their childhoods. Their trauma. The things they won’t tell staff counselors.
He said,
“Guys WANNA talk, if they can get someone to listen—not fix them. Where they feel safe. We got a lotta people wanna be healed and made whole. But they can’t until they can trust somebody. They don’t need no sermon. They want a relationship. They want to trust somebody.”
That’s the heart of what this season is about. This month’s learning is all about creating that trust—an environment where healing can happen; hopefully mutual healing.
We do this slowly, together. God is in this work.
When we began laying the groundwork for One Parish One Prisoner, I called my friend Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove in Durham, NC. He’s a tireless community organizer, Christian leader, author, and collaborator with the incarcerated and their hurting neighborhoods. He told me some groups tried something like this program a few years back, but it ultimately failed. I asked why. He told me,
“We found the churches, in the end, just weren’t safe places for vulnerable folks releasing from prison.”
Does that surprise you? It flips the assumptions of who’s safe for whom.
That’s when I committed to doing One Parish One Prisoner differently. I dreamed of creating a process where folks in churches can shed the layers of learned judgment, the old habits of correcting others, and grow as communities of God’s tenderness, where healing can happen.
So your letters with your incarcerated friend, who has vulnerably asked for your embrace and support — each letter is an opportunity to develop this beautiful trust. It can change both of you.
Relationships, like trust, go both ways. So the primary question at this point in our One Parish One Prisoner relationship is not, “Can I trust this prisoner/church?” but rather, “How do I help build trust with this person, for both of us?” You are a co-creator.
FAITH = TRUST
Consider this: “faith” is the exact same word as “trust.” Identical. But we’ve turned “faith” into some kind of fuzzy religious mystery. Try using “trust” instead, any time you would say “faith.” Trust in Christ. The Christian trust. Be strong and of good trust. I’m losing trust. We teach the fundamentals of trust. Do you have trust?
Suddenly what we’re dealing with is very clear, meaningful, and (let’s be honest) difficult. The opportunity to examine our trust issues and how to build trust is the most practical strengthening of faith development.
If there’s part of you holding back from relationship, I invite you to use this month to reflect on where God might want to heal and strengthen your trust.
Remember the first module, “The Lost Art of Letter Writing”? We suggested three keys to begin: Kinship, Curiosity, Consistency. For a deeper dive on trust this month, we will revisit those three, and add a few more: Covenant, Candor, Confidentiality, and Compassion.
QUICK QUESTION
KINSHIP
Humans have an amazing ability to trust when we can identify with one another, even over one small detail.
Ruben, a One Parish One Prisoner participant, wrote to me last month about the guys he’s writing to on his team. He described John by saying, “We both got two daughters.” And Scott: “We’re both from LA! Turns out we were in the Long Beach area during the same years. We even chop it up about the Dodgers!”
That was enough for Ruben to dive in. Kinship so quickly. Scott is real to Ruben now, and every letter builds on that connection. Ruben tells me their letters sometimes talk about the Catholic mystics a bit, which trips him out. They also discuss a plumbing job for when he’s released.
Look for what you have in common.
Kinship is also about not being above another person. That’s why we don’t use “mentor” language, and avoid the tired helper/receiver role-playing. When your friend is struggling, kinship is about not trying to teach or correct, but to lean in: “Me too.” Seek common ground.
Ruben keeps teaching me about kinship. Listen to this Master Class approach:
“As a Narcotics Anonymous counselor in here, I’ve learned to tell guys who I can see are stuck: ‘The only way out of it is through it. So let’s get through it together. What’s going on?’”
Let’s get through it together.
CURIOSITY
This is the key to slipping out of judgmental habits.
Has a friend ever shared or said something you don’t like? Something you don’t approve of? When you feel an impulse to offer instructive correction, try being curious instead: I wonder how they learned this way of thinking? What have they experienced that’s different from my experience, that would help this make sense?
It’s pretty easy. Just ask a question like: “What do you mean?” Or, “Why do you think that?” Or, “That’s really interesting/different. How’d you come to learn that?”
If you want to counter it, tell a story. How did you learn what you think is best? (It may indeed be more healthy; or maybe it’s a privilege your friend doesn’t have).
Correcting people is a drag. Learning people’s stories and ways to connect with them is so much more fun.
Trust grows so naturally from there, for both of you.
Remember: your friend currently lives inside a department of corrections. You belong to a department of connections. Find a way to connect. This is the work of God.
CONSISTENCY
My friend Jacob, a group facilitator in a local prison, once told me: “People in here have exaggerated trust issues.” People in prison have a shared abandonment wound. Growing up, their caregivers often disappeared repeatedly. Adults came in and out of their lives. In prison, it continues with staff turnover, family and friends who slowly stop visiting or calling, and pen-pals who “fall off” after a while.
These first several months, you as a team are working to counter that experience. Don’t be awesome, don’t promise the moon, just write that next letter. Put it on the calendar if you need to. Consistency heals. “We’re here. We’re not going anywhere. We’re not dropping you. How was your week?”
The Bible calls this “faithfulness”. It’s the opposite of flakiness. You are already learning how hard faithfulness is. Don’t get down on yourself when you find yourself flaking.
Ask God: Show me your heart as I take the time to write a new letter this week.
Consistency and faithfulness are also just being reliable. If you say you’re going to do something—call someone, send a book, look something up—do it.
“You can only build trust by showing people that you care. And that’s only through actions. ”
That’s a quote from my friend Jesús S. He has taught me about trust over the last five years, from the depths of federal prison cells. Whether you agree with what he says next or not, this is a common trust-meter from the streets, from prison cells, to underscore the importance of consistency:
“Telling the truth? Mmmm . . . kinda. Not really. We all lie a little.
But when somebody shows you that they’re not going to judge you, or drop you, or split—that’s someone you can start to trust.
We don’t trust people because we hope they always tell the truth. We trust them to be there, to at least try their best to be there.
My best friend—I’ve found out some lies she’s told me. But she’s always there. That’s more important to me.”
COVENANT
This is a biblical idea. It’s a brilliant foundation for relationships of trust over time. It’s not a legal contract, but a two-way commitment. We can call each other back to it over and over as we inevitably drift, trusting that God will hold it with us.
That’s why we created The One Parish One Prisoner Covenant. It was part of the orientation, but now’s a good time to click and review it prayerfully.
Part of that Covenant is what holds us to the consistency idea above:
I commit to faithfulness and consistency—to stay connected with you, especially in letters. Even if I feel my efforts are incomplete or imperfect, I commit to stay in relationship.
I commit to not disappear or fall off—due to being busy—without a clearly and kindly expressed reason why. We want you to know your value through a community who won’t drop you. I welcome you to call me out and ask me how I’m doing if I’m slacking. And I commit to do the same if I don’t hear from you.
A covenant can hold us to our expectations and hopes; it’s a foundation for why we want to keep trusting.
CANDOR
Others might call it “authenticity.” “Being real.” “Straight up.”
Be you. Be funny. Be crass. Be sweet. Whatever you are, relax into being you. Share from your life. What you’re frustrated about (“I spent two hours on hold with customer service and I wanna scream”). What you are afraid of (“I am afraid I’ll not be good at this.” Or, “I’m afraid my grandma’s gonna die before I can make it out to see her).
As Jesús S. said earlier, we all peddle in shades of dishonesty. But when you know someone is trying their best not to hide, it’s refreshing. When they share what’s really going on, just putting it out there, you want to do the same.
“I like real people.” — Gabe, doing a life sentence
One of our first One Parish One Prisoner participants, Diego, didn’t write his team back for months. “What’s up with him?” they wondered. It’s always about trust. Finally he admitted: he feared the team just wanted to feel good about themselves. Or to “look good in front of their friends,” he said. Basically, to use him. They’d never thought of that. But they couldn’t work through it until he finally risked saying it.
Conversely, there was a team with four members who didn’t write their first letter for months. Finally these parishioners admitted: they feared the person in prison could use something they shared (a last name, an address, mentioning they have kids in tee-ball) to manipulate and hurt them later, after getting out of prison.
In both cases, it would have been much faster if either side had just put it out there in their next letter: “I’m realizing I struggle with trust. I’ll be honest: I’m afraid you’re just doing this to feel better about yourselves. Do a good deed. I don’t want to feel like a project.” Or, “I’ve been hurt before, and those old fears are coming up again.”
Just admitting what’s going on for you moves the relationship forward. It’s better than pulling away, better than avoiding, which is passive communication.
CONFIDENTIALITY
Here’s our default to all One Parish One Prisoner Teams and their Incarcerated Friend: details about each others’ lives stay within your team.
We even keep our incarcerated friend’s last name confidential for the first year, not sharing that information with the wider church yet. Why? Folks start Googling this person’s name and become frightened investigators, scrolling through the worst acts this person ever committed. If someone came to your worship service and asked for prayer ministry afterwards, or a woman shared a painful story in a small group, would you tell a coworker about it later? No. Your coworker has no relationship with this person, or context to understand what was shared in confidence.
Gossip destroys. It’s part of what needs healing in our churches.
Your incarcerated friend needs a team they can trust, a small group who can do the work of learning the whole story of their past, learning about their character and not just their rap sheet.
If you want to look up your person’s criminal record online (in 15 years of working with the incarcerated, I’ve never made it my practice), ask yourself if you’d want others to look up the worst parts of your life, if Google could pull it up.
Back to kinship.
If you feel there’s truly a matter of concern, that’s why your team includes a pastor from leadership. You’re not alone. Discern together, within the group.
Be sure to tell your incarcerated friend that the team meets monthly and part of the model is for everyone to share what they’re learning, together, about this new friend in prison. Why? I often say, “So you don’t have to say the same things over and over to each of us! But if there’s something personal you feel is just for that one person, just say so.”
Make sense?
If you as a team want to share details of your releasing friend’s story with the wider church…
1) Ask yourself: is it to celebrate the person’s growth and plans and help build trust? If not, it’s probably gossip, and it’s no different than if this person were in your church and shared past mistakes with you in a small group. That stuff stays between you.
2) Ask your friend for permission to share a specific story and tell them why you’d like to share it. Even if it’s just something small and they reply, “For sure!” Asking permission shows respect and builds trust. Moving forward, they will feel even safer, knowing you will always ask first, and they can speak freely.
COMPASSION
Think of a time you felt someone’s compassion for you. Can you remember that feeling? You trusted that person more after that, didn’t you?
If you can lean into that sweet spot where you see a glimpse of your friend’s burden, their suffering, and they sense you holding them gently with love, they’ll trust you.
We keep learning the art of trust, faith and relationship, together.
“We seek a compassion that stands in awe of what some people have had to carry, instead of standing in judgment of how they’ve carried it.”
— Fr. Greg Boyle, from Tattoos On the Heart
Let your heart sit with what you have already learned—about what your releasing friend has suffered in their life, what they have survived, and what they are still carrying. Stand in awe. Let it soften your heart.
This is the only way I haven’t abandoned this work over the years. Either we get overwhelmed and frustrated and throw our hands up, or our hearts break, and break, and break, until God fits inside.
Compassion leaves us in awe.
CONCLUSION
At the end of the day, the art of trust is like any art: you choose to do it. To risk it. One of our first participants, Trevor, got overwhelmed following his release and fled to the shadows he knew, ending up back in jail. Thankfully, he exchanged letters with us reflecting openly, and shared these words. They apply to all of us:
“I am guarded. I have trusted wholeheartedly in the past and have been bitten. I just don’t want to get hurt and I don’t want to crash and burn. I’m scared. Yet I’m open. I cannot do it alone. I need this OPOP experience, I believe. I will not let my fears get the best of me. But I will listen to them.”
ACTION STEPS
PRINT AND SEND THIS MODULE TO YOUR INCARCERATED FRIEND
SHARE IN A LETTER, CALL, OR EMAIL about the Art of Building Trust module. Tell them a story about one of the 7 keys of trust-—how did it break or build trust with someone in your life?
ASK THEM: “How has your trust been broken in your life? What’s the biggest fear you feel? What would make it easier to trust us as your team?”
FOR TEAM DISCUSSION
Which one of the 7 keys above stands out to you? Which one are you best at? Which one do you want to grow at, through this experience?
Can you share an example of where you caught yourself in a correction impulse? Were you able to shift to connection instead? Did curiosity help?
Have you dropped contact, stopped—or not yet started—writing letters with your incarcerated team member? Now is a time to open up with your team about what is blocking your trust. Remember Ruben’s words: “The only way out of it is through it. So let’s get through it together. What’s going on?”
