After release

Joe never slept a wink that night: gate-fever had kept his mind in turmoil and his body restless. His cell-mate's raucous battery radio - full volume! - did nothing to drown Joe's excited chatter: it merely triggered rhythmic wall-banging and water-pipe-tapping in jailbird protest all down the landing.

Joe offered his mate what little was left of his Rizlas and tobacco: an insult to one tired irritable con. Joe had nothing else to offer him. All his other bits and pieces - half a tube of toothpaste, a few sprays of deodorant, most of a notepad and an old T-shirt - had already gone to his other pals amid the dubious 'farewell' rituals on the Wing last night before Bang-up.

As the first streaks of dawn filtered in between the cell bars, Joe tried to calm his tensions, rehearsing the Dos and Don'ts which he had talked through with the chaplain for his new life outside. He could hear the chaplain's voice: 'Remember how real your experience of God has been in prison - he will be just the same outside. You came to chapel regularly in prison - find a church outside as soon as possible and make good friends there. Treat your family gently about your new-found faith and never neglect your prayer and Bible-reading.'

Joe remembered shaking the chaplain's hand and thanking him for his support all the way through his sentence. Joe had no doubt about God - of course he would be the same outside. Church? If it's been so brilliant inside, it can only be better outside! Family? Joe often wondered whether he should have said more on the visits about his determination, with God's help, to go straight. It was difficult to talk about 'deeper' things in the Visits Room - so noisy, kids running round, lots of tea and biscuits to get through. It was easier to keep things happy and have a good laugh and a cuddle. Should he have written about it? No, better wait and tell them face-to-face: difficult to explain on paper. 'I did drop a hint over the phone. . . . once', thought Joe. Within a few hours he'd know the score; he'd be home; he would be able to pick up the vibes, read their faces, and know if things had changed in any way.

Shouts and rattling keys announced the morning 'unlock'. As sleepy inmates emerged, a few leaned over the landing rails to watch as Joe was escorted off the Wing for discharge. Enviously, they wished him luck. Later the same day, the same guys were checking out the food queue at tea-time 'unlock' when . . . there was Joe! Something so seriously wrong needed investigation. But Joe couldn't speak: he grabbed his meal-tray and disappeared behind his cell door. His old cell-mate was the first to hear the story and even he, tough man though he was, pitied him. What had happened?

Doing all right?

Arriving home, the front door had opened to a rapturous welcome: hugs, kisses, 'Here let me take your coat!' and 'I'll carry your bag for you!' and 'Sit down and have a cup of tea!' Heady stuff! What more could a guy expect? Certainly not a knock on the door and a policeman arriving to frisk him, check his pockets, his bags, his shoes. Finding him well loaded with drugs, Joe was arrested and smartly returned to jail.

Joe very quickly knew the score now. Oh yes, the family had been doing all right . . . but all the better without him. Other men were now involved and Joe's return was inconvenient. The happy visits? The con had been totally conned. The very physical welcome? All the easier to pop the incriminating evidence into pockets and bags. The cup of tea? What better opportunity than to phone the police while waiting for the kettle to boil! All Joe's carefully-prepared words remained unspoken, all his sincere resolutions for reform totally crushed.

I knew Joe well. This story is true. It is one of innumerable variations on a common theme - the hazards of re-integration after a prison sentence.

Need for co-ordination

Over the years, much excellent work has been done to try and ease this problem. Inside the jails, uniformed staff, chaplaincy teams, etc., have worked to encourage an inmate to confront himself and his problems, and take steps to prepare and plan for a better future. Cynics may say what they like, but the truth is that the 'shock' of a prison sentence prompts many to co-operate and seek change. In fairness, though, it has to be said that the opportunities for this rehabilitation are currently being reduced, due to the alarming increase in the prison population. Secure containment must take priority over everything else.

Outside in the community, all kinds of voluntary and local council support are in place for families - while the family member is 'away', and for the returning inmate, theoretically at least. But it is all a bit hit and miss. Many do not know what is available, never mind how to access it, and the provision in one town may vary widely from that in another. The same can obviously be said about the prisons themselves. No two jails function in exactly the same way. There is a need for co-ordination in what is being done and, as crime and recividism increase, for more of the restorative work itself.

A Canadian solution

A Canadian prison chaplain wrestled with a question that would not go away: 'Who will be out there to receive the ex-offender and continue the work of the chaplains inside the institutions?' (As we too, seek to find an answer, we hold uppermost in our minds our belief that it is the transformation beginning deep within and which works its way out along a journey of faith, that will last.)

That Canadian chaplain solved the problem initially by welcoming ex-prisoners into his home, thereby continuing the support begun in prison. He must certainly have received a great deal of criticism for this at the time but the seed-thought grew. A meeting place was set up in the town, run by a management committee and supported by church volunteers. A link-person was appointed to contact the prisoner inside, befriend the family outside and be there for them all at the time of discharge. This happened in Monkton, New Brunswick, and The Community Prison Chaplaincy Scheme was born.

In the UK

It has not only spread throughout the Canadian Correctional Services, but is now accepted by the Home Office in this country. Pioneered over the last seven years in Nottingham, the point has been made and there is now the possibility of care for the offender and his/her family to run concurrently and so avoid Joe's catastrophic experience.

Here is the co-ordination of care that has been missing so far.

What do we need for the scheme to spread in this country?

Men and women prepared to respond should God be calling them to serve the down-trodden and marginalised of our society.

Why should we bother?

Only thus can faith communities hope to stem the current downward moral slide. Jesus spent more time outside synagogues than in them. It's where we'll see lives turned right-way-up by the love and power of God.

What if there is no prison nearby?

Ideally, this works best where prisoners are held near their families, as has been recommended by official prison surveys for a long time. The current serious overcrowding results in emergency transfers from jail to jail to create a 'space' - any one prisoner could be anywhere. His/her family can equally be anywhere, but there's bound to be a family in your area doing 'the second sentence' as it's often been called.

How can we find them?

There should be no problem in this day of instant communication, once the networking is in place.

Is special training needed?

Yes, and this can be done locally in various ways. The first task, however, is bridge-building and the qualification for this is the love of God channelled through people convinced of their 'calling' to this work.

What initiates a prisoner and his/her family into this scheme?

Inmate Paul, pondering the 'mess' he's in, starts talking to officers and the chaplaincy. Seeing a lifeline for himself, he is now concerned for his family. He wants his family to be contacted.

So Paul tells the chaplain who refers him to the Community Prison Chaplain. If the family is not local, the CPC in the relevant area will be told and will visit the family and eventually introduce them to one of his team of volunteers. The network of care has begun and, at any point, either side can pull out.

On the other hand, think of the joy of a hurting family being befriended, welcomed and supported by a local church, with the way being prepared for the prisoner's return to understanding, reconciliation and a new life for all concerned. It can happen and before God we have a duty to see that it does happen.

We began with a desperate story; here's a happier one.

Sean was due for discharge soon. He had had very few visits during his imprisonment for he had been held far from home. Letters had been few too, his family were not into that. As best he could, Sean had communicated his remorse for his crime and for how much he had let his family down, but he had no idea how they felt. And now he was coming home. He was excited and dead scared. In his last letter he had told them the date and said: 'If you are glad I'm coming home, please tie a white cloth on the tree in the back garden and I will see it from the train as I pass by'.

The train was now beginning to slow down for the station. Sean hardly dared to look. He did, and saw the tree was smothered with white bows fluttering in the wind. The ministry of a Community Prison Chaplain could have eased the anxieties and facilitated the forgiveness and reconciliation beforehand. Either way, Sean was one of the 'lucky' ones.

The need for after-care for ex-prisoners