Prison: A Maundy Meditation

Prison: A Maundy Meditation

Prison is a lonely place to be. It is a place without hope. No hope of escaping those walls that men have built. Yet over time, one begins to depend on the very same walls he once despised. Believe it or not, this is true. With time walls are transformed into something they once were not, something you once would have never dreamed they could have become. And for those who have been there the longest, life outside those walls becomes a very scary thing.

Isn’t it strange to see two people talking, one from one prison and one from another? Bumping awkwardly into one another they shout from a distance, separated only by the walls that men have built?

A faceless warden controls the guards who lock down prisons. A faithless prisoner puts his trust in deceptive guards. Such officers wear a badge that reads in-Security. They carry pistols of pride and sticks of shame. They stand in towers of twisted truth, on top of walls that men have built.

And here I am. I stand here naked, scared. I am scared because I feel exposed. I feel exposed because I see that you have torn down the walls that men had built. The very walls that I despised I truly became dependent upon. And now I do not know what to do. Yet, you speak to me. You tell me that I am right where I need to be, that you are my wall of protection, that you are my security, that in you, I am to depend.

You have to stop me often, and show me where I have resumed work on the wall that men had built. But tonight my prayer is that I will turn to you, that I will trust in you, and I will wait on you. For unless you do the work I only labor in vain. But if I wait on you I will one day soar above any wall that man could build. And should I find myself imprisoned once again by thoughts or feelings you whisper to me strongly:

Fear not, those are only walls that men have built.