NEWS FEATURE: Prison Accorded `Cathedral Status’ for Jubilee Mass

c. 2000 Religion News Service CLEVELAND _ They came in with their game faces, two dozen women in blue uniforms with the practiced indifference of prisoners, their steely gazes set forward. They were followed by some 25 male inmates, betraying even less emotion and a greater attitude of toughness, clad in orange or white jumpsuits […]

c. 2000 Religion News Service

CLEVELAND _ They came in with their game faces, two dozen women in blue uniforms with the practiced indifference of prisoners, their steely gazes set forward. They were followed by some 25 male inmates, betraying even less emotion and a greater attitude of toughness, clad in orange or white jumpsuits with the label “county prisoner” emblazoned on the back.

Separating the two groups sitting on both sides of the Cuyahoga County Jail recreation room earlier this week was a long gray line of correction officers, equally expressionless in an atmosphere that encouraged no signs of weakness.


And then Cleveland Catholic Bishop Anthony Pilla entered the house. A gospel choir got a few hands raised in worship, and faces softened as Pilla walked down the carpeted aisle at the beginning of Mass, gently sprinkling the prisoners with holy water. There were a few “Amens” and “That’s right” shouted out as he compared their suffering to the suffering of Jesus, and there was laughter as Pilla joked that “the only angels are in heaven.”

By the time communion came around, guards and inmates were shaking hands, exchanging the greeting of peace. After they received the Eucharist from Pilla, inmates hugged the chaplains lining both walls, betraying the smiling humanity of the sons and daughters, mothers and fathers they are outside these walls.

For a few moments, said inmate Jeff Adaska, 35, he felt as if he were back in his home church, Immaculate Heart of Mary Parish in Cleveland.

“It was like having your freedom back again,” said Adaska, a cross bearer during the final procession. “I feel a little bit of weight off my shoulders. I feel a little bit of the chip on my shoulder removed.”

Pilla celebrated Mass at the county jail on Monday as part of an international Jubilee Year celebration commemorating the 2,000th anniversary of the birth of Christ.

Since inmates could not visit St. John Cathedral for the yearlong celebration, the small rec room, with basketball hoops hanging down one wall, was formally accorded “cathedral status” for a morning as the bishop celebrated the liturgy.

Prison ministry is one of Christ’s strongest commands to the Christian church. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus declares that on Judgment Day, those who inherit the kingdom of God will be the ones who fed the hungry, clothed the naked, cared for the sick, welcomed the stranger and visited those in prison.


Among the thousands of images of the papacy of John Paul II, perhaps the most memorable is the photo of the pontiff visiting the prison cell of his would-be assassin in 1983, and offering Mehmet Ali Agca his forgiveness.

In July, as part of the Jubilee Year theme of promoting reconciliation, the pope and bishops throughout the world visited prisons.

Crowded into a jail that is over its capacity with 2,000 inmates, Pilla’s visit was embraced by county prisoners who said they often feel abandoned in a society that seems to despise them.

“It’s absolutely wonderful having a priest so high up. Everybody looks down on us,” said Michael Tierney, 41, who said he came from Honolulu. “It was spectacular.”

Twenty-seven-year-old Angel Reineck of Cleveland, one of a small group to meet privately with the bishop, was still smiling beatifically after Mass.

“I think it’s marvelous that he cares about us. Now I feel somebody knows I’m here,” she said. “Look at me, I’m shaking.”


An inmate gospel choir got things started with a moving song about spiritual rebirth that repeats the theme, “I got to clean up, I messed up. I’m starting my life all over again.”

For his part, Pilla, who projects a kind, gentle, pastoral presence, tried to reassure prisoners throughout the Mass that he was not a phony evangelist pretending he knew what their lives were like.

“I don’t understand. I have not been where you are. But I care,” he said in his homily. “What I’m absolutely certain about is that God loves you.”

Pilla told inmates to reject the notion of God as an old man sitting in a judgment seat waiting to punish sinners.

“He was rejected. He was spat upon. He was beaten,” Pilla said. “Jesus did walk the walk. He carried the cross. He’s been there for you.” He concluded by asking one favor of the inmates: that the first thing they do when they get up each morning is tell themselves: “Jesus loves me just the way I am.”

By the end of the Mass, even the guards were smiling at the changed attitudes and affection shown by the inmates toward the bishop and chaplains.


The Rev. Beverly Johnson, a nondenominational minister who is head chaplain at the jail, joyously embraced guards and prisoners alike at communion time.

“For us, it’s a historical event,” Johnson said of the bishop’s visit. “We’re hoping just his presence being here will change the atmosphere in this facility.”

Deacon Thomas Senn, a Catholic chaplain at the jail who assisted Pilla at the Mass, said prison chaplaincy was one of the most rewarding of ministries.

“You’re with the same people Jesus was with 2,000 years later. You’re with prostitutes, you’re with thieves, you’re with people who are hurting and need to know the church is with them in their pain,” he said.

Afterward, Pilla said most people have a fear or anxiety about visiting people in prison.

“I witnessed them as a people who really wanted to pray together,” he said. “It was … a very humbling experience for me.”


DEA END BRIGGS

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