“What got you interested in corrections ministry?”
The question, posed over lunch, was a reckoning of sorts for Karen Vinyard (right). The Eldorado mother took a deep breath, and said the words.
“My husband is currently incarcerated.”
Vinyard had signed up for a ministry day trip to an Illinois prison with IBSA’s Carmen Halsey and Rob Cleeton, a pastor with a long history in corrections ministry. Their lunch beforehand was an opportunity for Vinyard to tell the story she rarely shared publicly. Her husband served 13 years for a drug offense. He was released to home confinement in 2019.
“Admitting it to other people is hard,” Vinyard said. That’s why she makes time to represent Illinois Baptists in the world of corrections ministry—outreach to incarcerated people, their families, and “returning citizens” who are released from prison.
As part of a team brought together by IBSA, Vinyard helps raise awareness for the families whose trials are often forgotten, or overlooked. “Sometimes I felt like I was in a tunnel, or the trenches actually,” Vinyard said. More than we know are likely in those same trenches—the ministry Prison Fellowship estimates one in ten churchgoers have a loved one in prison.
“People won’t talk about it, because there’s this shame factor,” said Mary Johnson. She represents Prison Fellowship in Illinois and Wisconsin, and helps churches across the region know how to get involved with corrections ministry initiatives.
The first step, both women said, is being aware of how many families are affected by incarceration, and the numerous ministry opportunities for churches willing to take on the task. For Vinyard, raising awareness of the issue is a calling born out of personal experience. Sometimes, she said, there is purpose in the pain.
Coming clean
For years, Vinyard was a married mother who attended every sports event, graduation, and church potluck by herself. In fact, “I did not like church potlucks,” she said. They served as another reminder that she was alone, while others gathered as whole families. Other families with an incarcerated loved one are in the same boat.
“It is an incredible grief at times,” Vinyard said. “You’re still married, and yet that spouse is never there with you.” Children, too, bear the brunt of family upheaval, she said. Vinyard quoted Prison Fellowship in calling kids “the invisible victims of crime.” It’s estimated that more than 5 million children in the U.S. have had an incarcerated parent.
Since getting involved, Vinyard has represented corrections ministry at IBSA’s Priority Women’s Conference. Standing at a table in the exhibit hall, she recruits volunteers to go with her to a transitional home in Arkansas where former inmates receive care and support as they re-enter life on the outside.
At the table, Vinyard also listens to people who come to share their own stories—they have a loved one who’s incarcerated, or about to enter prison. The first step for churches that want to help is to realize the people who talk to Vinyard are also in their pews. And like her, many hesitate to share their stories publicly.
“It’s like you’ve got to come clean,” she said. Once they do, Vinyard encouraged churches to come around families with love and support. Many have financial needs, especially if the primary provider is the one incarcerated. They also may want for community and connection. Invite them to share a meal, she suggested. Consider how holidays, even Memorial Day or the Fourth of July, might affect families who are missing a loved one.
Vinyard is quick to say other ministry leaders in Illinois volunteering inside prisons are the real heroes.
“All I am doing is just sharing my story, and just letting people know it could happen to anyone,” she said. “People are out there in our pews and congregations that are hurting.”
Help who you can
While Karen Vinyard uses her voice to call her attention to forgotten families, Jeff Gee runs hard after sustainable, redemptive programming for people getting out of prison. In Herrin, Gee pastors Hurricane Memorial Baptist Church. He also runs a bicycle repair shop that has employed returning citizens to fix up bikes.
“It’s amazing what a bicycle can do,” said Gee, in his 12th year as pastor at the church. He’s currently planning to develop the bicycle program into more job training for people in his community. Gee’s church is part of an inter-denominational collective that supports the Herrin House of Hope, a ministry that provides people in poverty with basic needs—food, clothing, and shelter—as well as continuing education and skills development.
People as a rule are afraid of returning citizens—those getting out of prison, Gee said. “You have to get over that.” Many who entered prison addicted to substances get clean while incarcerated, he noted. They also are a captive audience for Bible studies. Many meet Jesus there.
When they get out, Gee said there are four basic things they need: lodging, employment, food, and transportation. That’s where the bicycles come in. The repair shop was the focus of a 2016 Illinois Baptist story, along with Gee’s passion to help decrease the state’s recidivism rate—the percentage of former inmates who return to prison.
His current focus is on ramping up job training efforts, while continuing ministry through Herrin House of Hope and his church’s Celebrate Recovery program. He encouraged more churches to consider how they can help populations in need, starting by reducing the stigma around returning citizens.
“The best thing you can do is make an alliance with other churches,” he advised, pointing to the partnerships that created Herrin’s multi-faceted ministry. Seek local and regional funding, he said, and volunteers. Lots of volunteers. This specialized ministry requires a full force of helpers and resources from the moment you unlock the door, Gee said.
“There are some people that you can’t help, but there are a lot of people that you can.”
‘I can be a voice’
Karen Vinyard was scheduled to take a team to minister in Arkansas in June, but the trip was canceled due to COVID-19. It would have been the fourth time she’s traveled to Cornerstone Transition Home, where women go for education, support, and help getting used to life outside of prison. She’s hopeful someone in Illinois will catch a vision for what a similar facility could do to help families here. (The photo above is of Vinyard, far right, with a mission team at Cornerstone.)
Her own family celebrated her husband’s homecoming last fall, and have been marking milestones since then. June 21, 2020, for example, was “the best Father’s Day ever,” according to the couple’s daughter, a 2017 college graduate and recent newlywed.
Vinyard recently shared their story with Woman’s Missionary Union (watch the video at vimeo.com/ibsa/vinyardwmu). But she doesn’t take any credit for ministry gains or higher visibility. She is adamant that she’s only using the experience God gave her.
“The comfort that I’ve received from the Holy Spirit, I’d like to share that with others,” Vinyard said, referencing the passage in 1 Corinthians that she calls her life verse.
“I can be a voice, and that’s what I would like to be.”