Thought for the Week: A forgotten world
Chris Holmquist reflects on his experience at the Quaker prison chaplains' conference
Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord… when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ Matthew 25:31-46 I have learned recently that if you ever end up in prison, choosing your religious affiliation can have important consequences. If you class yourself as Muslim, you’ll get a Halal diet, which is usually preferable to standard prison food. If you say you’re a Mormon you get hot chocolate, rather than disgusting tea or coffee, and, if you go in as a Quaker? Cadbury’s chocolate? Clarks shoes? A banker’s bonus from Barclays Bank? – sadly not!
I am a newly appointed Quaker prison chaplain. My predecessor ‘strongly advised’ me to ‘do the training and go to the conference’. So, off I went to spend from Thursday to Sunday at the Woodbrooke Quaker Study Centre in the middle of full-time social work, family life and other Quaker ‘stuff’. Am I mad? Probably!
I expected to learn about prison rules and regulations, the jargon and the etiquette of being a Quaker ‘chaplain’ in a multi-faith prison chaplaincy team and to hear about the experience of those who do it already. I expected to be warned of the dangers of naivety and gullibility in the role, to consider the emotional impact of the work and to identify sources of support. All those expectations were amply realised in a packed day and a half, followed by a weekend conference.
What I did not expect so much was to be challenged to reflect on where being a Quaker prison chaplain fits into my own spiritual journey, to reflect at length on the place of discernment in the life of the Society today and to be asked to write a haiku! In short, I imagined this would be an essentially practical training, albeit in a spirit of worship. I did not expect an intense and challenging spiritual experience, which is what it turned out to be.
At times I was excited at the opportunities for ministry and service; at times terrified by the many potential pitfalls. Working within a system which is in so many ways rigid and hierarchical seems completely alien to Quakerism and, yet, we were reminded that this is an essential element of our historic witness and, indeed, part of the direct experience of many early Friends and, more recently, conscientious objectors and peace campaigners.
We are often reminded that there is a wider world with people suffering hardship and injustice outside our country – but I wonder how often we remember this hidden, unglamorous and often forgotten world in which people are struggling to deal with complex and intractable issues and huge losses, the effects of which are lifelong on them, their families and the wider society – that is to say, ultimately, on all of us.
You need to login to read subscriber-only content and/or comment on articles.