Prison visits

This week, if all goes well, I will be able to once again visit our former neighbor in the prison of Antwerp. I try to get to see him at least once a month. By now I have become familiar with the habits of this visit. It is only possible to make an appointment in person. This would mean that I would need to drive to Antwerp, park and go to the prison on one day in order to make an appointment for another day. The drive itself is close to 90 minutes with traffic. Instead, I simply drive to Antwerp and hope that someone who has an appointment won’t show up. 

At the prison, which is in a nice street with cafe’s and little shops, I first have to stand at a large iron door and press a green button, waiting until  I hear a click and can open the door. The door leads to a small room with two benches and what looks like a sort of post office windows behind which the guards sit. As a visitor, one is not allowed to bring anything in. There are lockers, most of which have broken locks, into which, if you find one that works, you can put your phone, jacket, keys and anything else you might have with you. 

Once you are called (because I am always on standby, you pass through a turnstile, put your coat if you have one in the winter through a scanner and pass a metal detector before standing at the next iron door waiting for it to be opened for you. Once through this door, you enter a small yard where everyone is waiting together to go into the visiting room. There are toys for little kids, who are often there with their mother visiting father. There is a place for those who need to smoke before they go inside for the visit. 

Once we are gathered by a guard to enter the visiting room, we all take a seat at the table which has been assigned us and wait for the prisoners to be brought in. My former neighbor always looks around for me when he enters and gets a big smile on his bearded face. He, like the other prisoners, is wearing a yellow vest over his prison clothes. We have about an hour to talk about whatever has been happening most recently. He likes to hear about my life since his is pretty much the same every day. 

This year I also started visiting a man who met my former neighbor while they were both in prison. This other man is now waiting in the psychiatric hospital just down the street from our village. He waits patiently, doing all that he needs to do to be able to join society again. I visit him once a month as well, sometimes helping with small tasks he might need done. 

Both of these men struggle with different things in their lives. Both are men of faith of a sort. Our former neighbor believes that he is his own pope and has created a sort of religion for himself. The other man is a muslim, though not really practicing. Both ask for prayers and we pray for them both regularly. 

I am always reminded when I visit them that our situation is not really that different. Without Jesus in our lives, we were slaves, lost, not really knowing where we were going. Paul says in the letter to the Ephesians: “without hope, without God in the world.” (Eph. 2:12). But we have been saved to wake with Jesus sharing His grace to all around us. I am thankful that we are no longer prisoners, but are now servants of the living God. (Rom. 6:15-18).