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Dear Friends and Family,
It's hard to believe that I am ¾ of the way done with my first year of college. Spring break last week marked the end of the first half of second semester. My schedule stays the same as all my classes are carrying through until the end of semester. Spring Break was by far the biggest highlight of my freshman year. Another guy who lives on my floor and I decided to sign up for a BreakAway missions trip. BreakAway is an office on campus that offers from 10-15 missions opportunities each year during spring break. I looked at the prices for each trip and saw the
cheapest one: $275 for a trip to Angola, Louisiana. Even though we had no idea what we would be getting ourselves into, my buddy and I looked at each other and were like: "Let's do this!" When we found out that we would be going to a prison it became all the more cool. We as a team met twice before our trip down to sort of learn about each other and get a couple of hand-outs with a bunch of rules on them like "Don't give or take anything from an inmate" or "Don't give your phone number or address to an inmate" or "Don't ask the reason the
inmate is prison" or "Cooperate with all the guards". We also were given some background information about Louisiana State Penitentiary (LSP) at Angola. LSP is the largest penitentiary in America, with 5,108 inmates. Once known as "the bloodiest prison in America", Angola has a terrible past- full of inmate-inmate violence and enmity. Hearing all of this from our group leader made me really wonder what I was getting myself into!
I woke up at 5 am to hop on the minibus and make the long drive down to Louisiana. I set the stopwatch on my phone when we left and as we pulled up to the gate I glanced down at the elapsed time: 17:34:00. We took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and that added an extra hour to our trip. We drove onto the 18,000-acre prison grounds to where we would be spending the week: The officer training facility. We slept on these bunks that were so narrow, that rolling over to either side would be plenty far to make you fall off onto the floor. I slept fine the whole week though which didn't surprise me! One of the main highlights of the week was the church services. I realize that we attended no fewer than eight church services in six days. The first night's service I felt nervous because I had no idea what to expect or how things would turn out. I lost count of how many security doors we had to go through before reaching the church building in the center of the prison compound. About 15 minutes into the service, all my anxiety was put to rest: I had just discovered a whole new side of the body of Christ that I never imagined. I talked with an inmate afterwards who told me his story; how he ended up in prison when he was
18….18! Each night of the week, we attended different churches that would meet in the main chapel building. These worship services were completely lead by inmates, for fellow inmates. One night there were Methodists, another night Pentecostals, and so on. We as a Wheaton group would get up and sing a few songs after the church worship team would lead the congregation in a lot of gospel music. Talk about some talented musicians! I have never heard such beautiful gospel music in all my life. I am convinced, however, that their worship was so powerful because of their deep love, respect, and gratitude for the Lord Jesus. As I talked with many inmates, time and time again I would hear the genuine gratitude that these men had for their Savior. Nothing else mattered, it seemed. They were in prison for the rest of their life, their families had left them years ago, their wages peaked at a whopping 20 cents per hour! Yet none of this mattered in the scheme of things. They only kept saying, "The Lord has been soooo good to me". Hearing this, I felt as if their testimony smacked me over the head with a 2x4. What a conviction the lives of these men, these former criminals, was in my life! The verse that echoed constantly in my thoughts was Luke 12:48 where Jesus says, "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked". How much have those of us "on the outside" been given?! Yet all too often we are blinded by our own pride, self-centeredness, and ungratefulness. Upon hearing the testimony of these men I just wanted to fall on my face and say, "Woe is me!" I am so thankful that God used these men to soften my heart and to be a powerful conviction that reminded me how much I am in debt to the grace and mercy of God. It was so wonderful to worship alongside such incredible brothers in Christ. Our worship was so Christ-honoring that at times I completely forgot where I was: in a maximum security prison surrounded with razor wire fences! At times the services were interrupted so the guards could do a routine prisoner head count or sometimes the sound equipment wasn't working perfectly and once the power went out, but none of these things affected the quality of our worship of our Heavenly Father.
If anything we glorified Him all the more! I think this is an indication of something that is gravely wrong with the worship in many of our churches. All to often we try to have things as perfect as possible in our worship:
are all the instruments (and vocalists) meshing properly? Do we have the motions down pat? Are the powerpoint slides coming up at exactly the right instant on the screen? Are the drums sounding right? And when one of these things goes awry in the middle of worship, it's like the end of the world. You all know what I'm talking about. Folks we need to remember that it is God we are worshiping and not the quality of our own performance.
I kind of got on a rabbit trail there so I will try to get back to the story now! Let's me tell you a little bit about the hospitality and good cooking that was given to us: Every morning some trustees would serve us breakfast there where we would spend the night. For most of the time, our lunches and dinners were at the Ranch House. The Ranch House is a house for hosting large groups of guests that come to LSP. The best cooks in the prison are assigned to work at the ranch house. I haven't eaten so well in a long time. The hospitality of the folks down in
Louisiana was extraordinary. It spoke volumes to me when I saw an inmate who leads a congregation as pastor also served us at the ranch house by cooking and even waiting on our tables. What a servant's attitude he displayed! If you wouldn't mind praying for this man, his name is Pastor Ron Hicks. He will be going on to work at the Police Training Academy, which is the "next step" for prisoners at Angola. We had a huge crawfish dinner, Cajun-style which was fantastic. I drank a lot of swate tay ("sweet tea" in normal English) which is amazing, by the way, to all of you who appreciate southern cooking like me! The only thing though, was that I don't think I had one piece of fruit the entire week! Ha ha.
Another thing that we did having a big impact on me at LSP was visit inmates who are on death row. Death row is the camp with the highest security at Angola. There is a double fence with razor wire completely covering its face. As we passed through the gate, I counted eight rows of razor wire! Prisoners are only allowed outside for one hour each day, and when they leave their cell, they are kept separate from each other. People on death row get religious visitors all the time who are only concerned with giving and inmate a tract to get them saved before moving on to the next cell. Our plan was to simply go in and encourage the prisoners by simply conversing with them. We tried to be respectful of these men and listen to what they had to say. Since many of these men
didn't have many people to talk with, they turned the conversation into a monologue with me pitching in my two cents every once in a while. I met a couple believers in that place who offered me advise I will never forget such as
to look after those around me so that they don't end up in a place like that. One man emphasized that it's my responsibility. I am my brother's keeper after all. With a couple of inmates I visited, I felt it was appropriate to share Scripture. It's amazing how God can use scripture we read in our devotions to be an encouragement to people in a completely different context! One verse I read that sticks out in my mind is Hebrews 3:13 which talks about encouraging one another daily, "so long as it is called Today". I used this to encourage them to take things one day at a time and to trust in Him. It's amazing how the Lord can just lay things on your heart that you can say out loud on the spot! I was nervous at the beginning wondering what I was going to say to these men and
not offend or disappoint them unknowingly. God definitely interceded on that one! After visiting with each inmate on a hall, we would walk to the end and then sing a song as we walked back. As a group we agreed that "Amazing Grace" would be meaningful, as most everybody knows this song, Christian or not.
Before moving on to the next hall of cells, our leader pulled me off to the side and I will never forget what he told me. "Do you know who you were just talking to?" "Yeah it was this incredible guy named Chris, why?" "Chris, he swallowed, is the next person who will be executed here at Angola." I couldn't move. Having been to the execution room just two days earlier, I couldn't believe what I just heard. Needless to say, meeting and talking with these doomed men in person was powerfully sobering.
Throughout the week, we as a group became really flexible when it came to church service: pitching in with the worship, scripture reading, and preaching to make things work. I volunteered to preach one evening. Now if you know me, speaking in front of people is not usually my strong point. If I am one-on-one I can talk all day long, but put up in front of the pulpit speaking into a microphone that is broadcasting my voice over the radio….not something I frequently relish! But I figured hey, how many times do I get to preach in church, not being a pastor or anything? I prayed and asked the Lord that He would take away my desire to look and sound good in front of people as I sometimes struggle with worrying whether or not I have come across well to others. I preached
out of that same passage in Hebrews that I shared with the inmate on death row, as well as a well-known and meaningful passage to prisoners, Isaiah 61:1. Essentially this message was about encouragement for the brokenhearted and how believers need to come alongside their neighbors and bring them to the Lord for
healing. And yes the Holy Spirit took away all my apprehension and I was able share what God had laid on my heart. That doesn't mean it didn't feel good to step off that pulpit afterwards, though!!
One last thing I might mention and that was the hooten-nanny. A hooten-nanny (I have no idea if I am spelling it right or not) is sort of like a hay ride only without the hay. We as a group piled on the back of this huge flatbed
truck that was converted into a transporter for prisoners. There were two benches set up facing each other sideways down the length of the truck bed where we sat. We drove around for a while and then went out to the ferry that goes across the Mississippi. We got on and rode around the Mississippi for a while on the ferry operated by the prison. I had never been on the mighty Mississippi before. So that, folks, is a hootennanay…hootan-nannie? Whatever!
At the end of the week it was difficult to leave. Many of the people we saw everyday were tearing up when we were saying goodbye. It was a physical sign that we weren't just any group of visitors to come through. At times we
got into a debate with inmates as to who was encouraged more during that week: the people from Wheaton or the folks from Angola! To me, that was a sign that God used both parties to bring hope to each other through fellowship and kindness. It was good to be off of a college campus where there are so many Christians that at times it is easy to become cynical and insensitive. I'm glad the Lord has softened my heart and made me more sensitive to those around me as well as the voice of the Holy Spirit.
Well I think I have dragged this message out for long enough. Thanks for bearing with me and my verbiage!
Undeservingly in Christ,
Dan (Settle)
It's hard to believe that I am ¾ of the way done with my first year of college. Spring break last week marked the end of the first half of second semester. My schedule stays the same as all my classes are carrying through until the end of semester. Spring Break was by far the biggest highlight of my freshman year. Another guy who lives on my floor and I decided to sign up for a BreakAway missions trip. BreakAway is an office on campus that offers from 10-15 missions opportunities each year during spring break. I looked at the prices for each trip and saw the
cheapest one: $275 for a trip to Angola, Louisiana. Even though we had no idea what we would be getting ourselves into, my buddy and I looked at each other and were like: "Let's do this!" When we found out that we would be going to a prison it became all the more cool. We as a team met twice before our trip down to sort of learn about each other and get a couple of hand-outs with a bunch of rules on them like "Don't give or take anything from an inmate" or "Don't give your phone number or address to an inmate" or "Don't ask the reason the
inmate is prison" or "Cooperate with all the guards". We also were given some background information about Louisiana State Penitentiary (LSP) at Angola. LSP is the largest penitentiary in America, with 5,108 inmates. Once known as "the bloodiest prison in America", Angola has a terrible past- full of inmate-inmate violence and enmity. Hearing all of this from our group leader made me really wonder what I was getting myself into!
I woke up at 5 am to hop on the minibus and make the long drive down to Louisiana. I set the stopwatch on my phone when we left and as we pulled up to the gate I glanced down at the elapsed time: 17:34:00. We took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and that added an extra hour to our trip. We drove onto the 18,000-acre prison grounds to where we would be spending the week: The officer training facility. We slept on these bunks that were so narrow, that rolling over to either side would be plenty far to make you fall off onto the floor. I slept fine the whole week though which didn't surprise me! One of the main highlights of the week was the church services. I realize that we attended no fewer than eight church services in six days. The first night's service I felt nervous because I had no idea what to expect or how things would turn out. I lost count of how many security doors we had to go through before reaching the church building in the center of the prison compound. About 15 minutes into the service, all my anxiety was put to rest: I had just discovered a whole new side of the body of Christ that I never imagined. I talked with an inmate afterwards who told me his story; how he ended up in prison when he was
18….18! Each night of the week, we attended different churches that would meet in the main chapel building. These worship services were completely lead by inmates, for fellow inmates. One night there were Methodists, another night Pentecostals, and so on. We as a Wheaton group would get up and sing a few songs after the church worship team would lead the congregation in a lot of gospel music. Talk about some talented musicians! I have never heard such beautiful gospel music in all my life. I am convinced, however, that their worship was so powerful because of their deep love, respect, and gratitude for the Lord Jesus. As I talked with many inmates, time and time again I would hear the genuine gratitude that these men had for their Savior. Nothing else mattered, it seemed. They were in prison for the rest of their life, their families had left them years ago, their wages peaked at a whopping 20 cents per hour! Yet none of this mattered in the scheme of things. They only kept saying, "The Lord has been soooo good to me". Hearing this, I felt as if their testimony smacked me over the head with a 2x4. What a conviction the lives of these men, these former criminals, was in my life! The verse that echoed constantly in my thoughts was Luke 12:48 where Jesus says, "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked". How much have those of us "on the outside" been given?! Yet all too often we are blinded by our own pride, self-centeredness, and ungratefulness. Upon hearing the testimony of these men I just wanted to fall on my face and say, "Woe is me!" I am so thankful that God used these men to soften my heart and to be a powerful conviction that reminded me how much I am in debt to the grace and mercy of God. It was so wonderful to worship alongside such incredible brothers in Christ. Our worship was so Christ-honoring that at times I completely forgot where I was: in a maximum security prison surrounded with razor wire fences! At times the services were interrupted so the guards could do a routine prisoner head count or sometimes the sound equipment wasn't working perfectly and once the power went out, but none of these things affected the quality of our worship of our Heavenly Father.
If anything we glorified Him all the more! I think this is an indication of something that is gravely wrong with the worship in many of our churches. All to often we try to have things as perfect as possible in our worship:
are all the instruments (and vocalists) meshing properly? Do we have the motions down pat? Are the powerpoint slides coming up at exactly the right instant on the screen? Are the drums sounding right? And when one of these things goes awry in the middle of worship, it's like the end of the world. You all know what I'm talking about. Folks we need to remember that it is God we are worshiping and not the quality of our own performance.
I kind of got on a rabbit trail there so I will try to get back to the story now! Let's me tell you a little bit about the hospitality and good cooking that was given to us: Every morning some trustees would serve us breakfast there where we would spend the night. For most of the time, our lunches and dinners were at the Ranch House. The Ranch House is a house for hosting large groups of guests that come to LSP. The best cooks in the prison are assigned to work at the ranch house. I haven't eaten so well in a long time. The hospitality of the folks down in
Louisiana was extraordinary. It spoke volumes to me when I saw an inmate who leads a congregation as pastor also served us at the ranch house by cooking and even waiting on our tables. What a servant's attitude he displayed! If you wouldn't mind praying for this man, his name is Pastor Ron Hicks. He will be going on to work at the Police Training Academy, which is the "next step" for prisoners at Angola. We had a huge crawfish dinner, Cajun-style which was fantastic. I drank a lot of swate tay ("sweet tea" in normal English) which is amazing, by the way, to all of you who appreciate southern cooking like me! The only thing though, was that I don't think I had one piece of fruit the entire week! Ha ha.
Another thing that we did having a big impact on me at LSP was visit inmates who are on death row. Death row is the camp with the highest security at Angola. There is a double fence with razor wire completely covering its face. As we passed through the gate, I counted eight rows of razor wire! Prisoners are only allowed outside for one hour each day, and when they leave their cell, they are kept separate from each other. People on death row get religious visitors all the time who are only concerned with giving and inmate a tract to get them saved before moving on to the next cell. Our plan was to simply go in and encourage the prisoners by simply conversing with them. We tried to be respectful of these men and listen to what they had to say. Since many of these men
didn't have many people to talk with, they turned the conversation into a monologue with me pitching in my two cents every once in a while. I met a couple believers in that place who offered me advise I will never forget such as
to look after those around me so that they don't end up in a place like that. One man emphasized that it's my responsibility. I am my brother's keeper after all. With a couple of inmates I visited, I felt it was appropriate to share Scripture. It's amazing how God can use scripture we read in our devotions to be an encouragement to people in a completely different context! One verse I read that sticks out in my mind is Hebrews 3:13 which talks about encouraging one another daily, "so long as it is called Today". I used this to encourage them to take things one day at a time and to trust in Him. It's amazing how the Lord can just lay things on your heart that you can say out loud on the spot! I was nervous at the beginning wondering what I was going to say to these men and
not offend or disappoint them unknowingly. God definitely interceded on that one! After visiting with each inmate on a hall, we would walk to the end and then sing a song as we walked back. As a group we agreed that "Amazing Grace" would be meaningful, as most everybody knows this song, Christian or not.
Before moving on to the next hall of cells, our leader pulled me off to the side and I will never forget what he told me. "Do you know who you were just talking to?" "Yeah it was this incredible guy named Chris, why?" "Chris, he swallowed, is the next person who will be executed here at Angola." I couldn't move. Having been to the execution room just two days earlier, I couldn't believe what I just heard. Needless to say, meeting and talking with these doomed men in person was powerfully sobering.
Throughout the week, we as a group became really flexible when it came to church service: pitching in with the worship, scripture reading, and preaching to make things work. I volunteered to preach one evening. Now if you know me, speaking in front of people is not usually my strong point. If I am one-on-one I can talk all day long, but put up in front of the pulpit speaking into a microphone that is broadcasting my voice over the radio….not something I frequently relish! But I figured hey, how many times do I get to preach in church, not being a pastor or anything? I prayed and asked the Lord that He would take away my desire to look and sound good in front of people as I sometimes struggle with worrying whether or not I have come across well to others. I preached
out of that same passage in Hebrews that I shared with the inmate on death row, as well as a well-known and meaningful passage to prisoners, Isaiah 61:1. Essentially this message was about encouragement for the brokenhearted and how believers need to come alongside their neighbors and bring them to the Lord for
healing. And yes the Holy Spirit took away all my apprehension and I was able share what God had laid on my heart. That doesn't mean it didn't feel good to step off that pulpit afterwards, though!!
One last thing I might mention and that was the hooten-nanny. A hooten-nanny (I have no idea if I am spelling it right or not) is sort of like a hay ride only without the hay. We as a group piled on the back of this huge flatbed
truck that was converted into a transporter for prisoners. There were two benches set up facing each other sideways down the length of the truck bed where we sat. We drove around for a while and then went out to the ferry that goes across the Mississippi. We got on and rode around the Mississippi for a while on the ferry operated by the prison. I had never been on the mighty Mississippi before. So that, folks, is a hootennanay…hootan-nannie? Whatever!
At the end of the week it was difficult to leave. Many of the people we saw everyday were tearing up when we were saying goodbye. It was a physical sign that we weren't just any group of visitors to come through. At times we
got into a debate with inmates as to who was encouraged more during that week: the people from Wheaton or the folks from Angola! To me, that was a sign that God used both parties to bring hope to each other through fellowship and kindness. It was good to be off of a college campus where there are so many Christians that at times it is easy to become cynical and insensitive. I'm glad the Lord has softened my heart and made me more sensitive to those around me as well as the voice of the Holy Spirit.
Well I think I have dragged this message out for long enough. Thanks for bearing with me and my verbiage!
Undeservingly in Christ,
Dan (Settle)
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