Prison ministry offers ‘return to humanity’

February 18, 2025

By Carissa Krautscheid

Freedom is best defined as the capacity to do what you choose. While thoughts of freedom call to mind any combination of experiences, it’s often said that many of us take freedom for granted.

I recently learned a valuable lesson in freedom.

Although it began as a Sunday like any other it would unfold to be, what is so far in my life, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I dressed plainly that morning – careful not to include any hints of orange. I drove 45 minutes southeast of Tucson. Parking outside the Whetstone Prison, at the Arizona Department of Corrections, Rehabilitation, & Reentry, I realized that this was quite possibly the most depressing place I had ever been.

Brown dirt. Gray concrete. Sharp edges and barbed wire.

Upon entering the prison, I was escorted by Chaplain Darius Wentz. We exchanged simple chatter as we walked the entire length of what’s referred to as “The Yard.” Inmates clad head to toe in orange were engaging in activities like basketball, volleyball, ping pong, weightlifting… all done on concrete, bordered by high walls. From inside the prison, I couldn’t see any of the four mountain ranges we enjoy in Tucson. The sky was the only window of creation inmates could see.

Before I knew it, we had arrived at the farthest end of the prison. Suddenly, I found myself in a room swimming with the orange of 28 inmates. Seated around six tables and accompanied by 17 volunteers, the men had all elected to attend a three-day retreat hosted by the St. Maximilian Kolbe Prison Ministry of Catholic Community Services. As I stepped into the middle of their final day of retreat, I had no idea what to expect.

Each man here was arrested, charged, convicted of a crime, then sentenced. It’s a minimum-security facility. The stay ranges from months to years.

I was directed to sit between two inmates. Just as quickly, they made me feel at ease in this new experience. I was delighted to interact with, not just inmates, but people. People who’d had 28 different journeys brought them to this level two security facility. People with names, families, struggles, hobbies, weaknesses, talents, and insecurities.

Christopher is from Prescott, has a radiant smile, and says he earned a PhD in Christian counseling.

Frank is 77 years old with four kids, 16 grandkids, and five great-grandkids.

My two neighbors were conversational and open, willing to laugh and be vulnerable with the inner workings of their spirituality.

The next six hours consisted of discussion

groups, musical sing-alongs, and a reflection from Sister Esther Calderon, O.P., who has been ministering in prisons for over 32 years. She shared examples of Christianity in action, how even inmates can be kinder and more compassionate toward one another: sharing lunch with the new guy, inviting others to a prayer service, pushing someone’s wheelchair. “These things may seem small to you,” said Sr. Esther, “but you can’t imagine how much of an impact it has. Turn to the person next to you and see the face of Jesus.” I turned to Christopher, and he beamed at me, the light of Christ illuminated in the weary wrinkles lining his face.

Rounding off the three-day retreat, inmates were invited to share testimonies about their lives and experiences of the weekend. They reflected these themes:

Forgiveness

Walter said, “It’s hard to forgive myself for hurting other people. I’ve been told, ‘God can forgive you, why can’t you forgive yourself?’ The enemy talks in the back of my head, which is why they call him the condemner. God rebukes him, ‘No, this is my child.’”

Frank said, “God has given me a lot of blessings. When I recognize all he has done, it’s hard to forgive myself. It has taken a long time.”

Edward said, “We all make mistakes and stumble, but God picks us up and we keep walking towards him until we are in his kingdom. I’ve got God in my heart; I’m not afraid.”

Sights on Christ

Chris said, “If I had been living for the Lord as I should have, I wouldn’t be here.”

Walter said, “I took back the reins and control. I used to think that ‘to submit’ was a bad thing because it would mean I was weak. But I realized that to submit would take all the strength I had. It’s not about me; it’s about him. I need to seek God first. I have the confidence that God has me and will be the one to walk me to the other side.”

Bruce said, “God has something waiting for every single one of you. Find out what it is.”

Matthew exuded joy and laughter. He said, “God is going to be with us all this new year.”

Christianity in Action

Walter said, “I had a preconceived notion of what Catholicism was. I was wrong. God showed me that your faith is just like my faith.”

Alphonso said, “Christianity is not just about going to church, but also about doing service. You need both parts. Now it’s something I want to do.”

Bruce said, “I’m looking forward to putting Christianity into action. I can even give back to others by putting it into practice in the yard.”

Return to Humanity

Victor said, “This retreat was a return to humanity. We get callused in here, but there are people who love and care. I will take the Word of God with me.”

Glenn is a doctor. “I never thought I would be in prison in my life. The world turns its back on you. No one wanted anything to do with me. But you, volunteers, came here; you show us the care and love that the world still has for us. Jesus can’t work in our lives unless we let him. People in the yard don’t even say hello. We can’t share the Word of God with them if we don’t even talk to them.”

Jonathan was a long-term meth addict. “Last year, I finally surrendered. I needed change in my life. I changed my name back to my birth name and went to treatment. I’ve attended 200 AA and NA meetings since October. Chaplain told me about this retreat and it’s been a blessed weekend. You are all caring, selfless, and loving; you’ve really touched my heart and helped me get closer to God and improve integrity so I can become a better man. I want to help give back.”

Gratitude

Chris said, “I needed this retreat. It will be what gets me through the next six months. I needed this strength and fellowship.”

“I’ve been in prison for 20 years and I’ve had one visit all that time. For you to spend time with those the rest of the world casts away… that means a lot.”

“I’m at this retreat because my friend Roger signed me up and I heard there would be pizza. Since prison, I’m on a better path. I know I needed to strengthen myself before going back out.”

Ruben said, “Glory to God and his son Jesus. You volunteers are a true blessing from God. My spiritual armor is shinier now.”

Tony said, “This retreat brought back the joy I had lost.”

Michael said, “God is still at work. He sent his best masterpieces here to share the Word of God with us. You didn’t have to do this but you did; you chose us.”

Their testimonies were followed by a Communion service during which Deacon Mike Gutierrez, coordinator of the Kolbe Society, encouraged the inmates, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Celebrate Jesus every day for the rest of your life. Through Baptism, we participate in Christ, becoming sons and daughters of our God. We die with Christ so that we can rise with him.”

Every volunteer then prayed over each individual, placing their hands on orange-covered shoulders. The power of prayer and healing touch were evident by the many tears shed by inmates. To conclude the retreat, inmates formed a circle with the volunteers in the middle. Rotating around the circle, volunteers and inmates had the opportunity to say farewells and to thank one another for the mutually insightful experience.

As I walked out of prison that afternoon, got in the car, and drove north, I was confronted by an overwhelming sense of freedom. I was so completely free: to wear non-government-issued clothes, to eat any variety of foods, to delight in God’s beautiful creation as I gaze upon the mountains or hike through a forest of saguaros, to travel and create and socialize and rest whenever I choose. I am free.

This sensation was slowly tempered by the realization that we can easily take advantage of our freedom. When we assume that we are answerable to no one, with no consequences for our actions, able to push any limit we encounter… we have then fallen into the lie that freedom means we can do whatever we want. In doing so, we become slaves to sin and are not actually free at all. Rather, true freedom is the capacity to do what we ought to do.

In those terms, even inmates are free to pursue God and to be kind, even within prison. In these small, but more important ways, even inmates are ‘free.’ And in juxtaposition, many of us who aren’t in prison are still imprisoned by sin, society, or systems of oppression. As Catholics, we know that God created us with free will; he loves us so much that he allows us to choose him freely. As our priests constantly remind us in Christ alone, we are truly free.

My day in prison showed me why “Visit the Prisoner” is recognized as a Corporal Work of Mercy in the Catholic Church. The joy and humanity the retreat brought to the inmates at Whetstone Prison just might have changed their lives or, most importantly, their souls.