Saturday, August 08, 2009
I was in prison and you visited me...
Last week I again visited the Dungavel Immigration Removal Centre (IRC). I visit with an established charity; it’s a fascinating group of volunteers that visit... I suppose that the prospect of visiting people you don’t know who are in a prison (who may have made bad decisions that have landed them there) that’s an hour outside the city does not have universal appeal. So I’ve met some fascinating people – detainees as well as fellow visitors – in the past 5 months of visiting.The more I have an opportunity to visit detainees at Dungavel, the more important I think it is. Most of the detainees have little hope, they have reached the end of the road, and are usually wrestling with regret over poor choices. Many of the detainees have only seen Scotland over the barbed wired wall that surrounds Dungavel – generally speaking, most of the detainees have been moved up from England, while those detained for immigration related issues in Scoland are moved down to IRCs in England. So isolation is a major problem. Having somebody from the “outside” helps the detainees to feel more connected to the world and it allows them to share their feelings with those who are not experiencing the same stresses. I have been told many times that the visits to Dungavel are the highlight of the week, a lifeline. Quite often we can only visit 12 detainees, and 24 have requested visits!
While I believe that there are cases of unjust detention, I do not want to come across as suggesting that detention is unnecessary or that everybody in Dungavel does not deserve to be there in some capacity (however, I do believe that the current trend of indefinite detention is harmful and a waste of resources; read the compelling reports on http://www.detainedlives.org/).
Jesus’ famous words about the marginalised, “...I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. (Mat 25:35-36)” is not qualified by “but, really, only do this the poor who haven’t made any mistakes.” Unsurprisingly, there is an implied element of risky grace in Christ’s words, which disconcert and challenge me to address the plank in our eye before I judge, to leave my stones on the ground as one who has also sinned.
Sometimes at Dungavel, I am tempted to be overly judgemental about some of the detainees, or choose to visit those who have much more clear-cut cases. Yet, it is perhaps the most difficult who most need a visit. It is easy to have an idealised opinion of the marginalised; yes, we must be wise in our dealings, but grace by definition is something that is undeserved. During my last visit I met with a man who wanted to visit family, so he used forged documents… yes, a unwise decision, but the pain he is experiencing being estranged from his wife and son is real and must be addressed with compassion. Jesus never advocated an attitude of “just deserts”. Many times, the visitors cannot offer anything more than a listening ear and acting as a tangible connection the world beyond the 25ft walls of the IRC, but as Gustavo Gutiérrez commented about ministry to the marginalised, that there is “importance of gestures and ways of ‘being with’ that some may regard as having little political effectiveness.”
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