The Catholic Weekly 19 July 2020

catholicweekly.com.au 12 NEWS 19, July, 2020 FEATURE Not even barred jail cells and life sentences can prevent God’s grace from working in the hearts of serious criminals. Anything is possible: even in jail doing serious time for serious crimes, nothing is beyond the reach of God’s mercy and love - whatever a person has done. PHOTO: UNSPLASH AN ITALIAN prisoner, sen- tenced to 30 years for murder, made vows of poverty, chasti- ty, and obedience two weeks ago, in the presence of his bishop. Luigi, (not his real name), 40, wanted to be a priest when he was young, according to Avvenire , the newspaper of the Italian bishops’ conference. Kids called him ‘Father Luigi’ when he was growing up. But alcohol, drugs, and violence changed the path of his life. In fact, he was under the influence of alcohol and cocaine when, getting into a fist fight, he took a life. He was sentenced to prison. There, he became a lector for Mass. He began to study. He started to pray again. He prayed, especially, “for the sal- vation of the man I killed,” he wrote in a letter.That letter was to Bishop Massimo Camisasca of Reggio Emilia-Guastalla. The two began a correspond- ence last year. By then, Luigi had grown close with two priests who act- ed as chaplains to the prison in Reggio Emilia - Fr MatteoMio- ni and Fr Daniele Simonazzi. Bishop Camisasca told Avve- nire that in 2016 he decided to spend time in prison ministry. “I didn’t know much about the reality of prison, I confess. But since then a path of pres- ence, celebration and sharing has started that has enriched me greatly,” the bishop said. Through that ministry, his correspondence with Luigi began. Speaking of his letters, the bishop said that “a passage that greatly touched me is the one in which Luigi says that ‘real life imprisonment is not lived inside a prison but out- side, when the light of Christ is missing.” Luigi’s vows, which were taken on 26 June, were not part of joining a religious order or other organisation. They were instead a promise to God to live poverty, chastity, and obedience, commonly called the evangelical counsels, ex- actly where he is — in prison. The idea emerged from his conversation with pris- on chaplains. “Initially he wanted to wait for his release from prison. It was Fr Dan- iele who suggested a different path, which would allow him to make these solemn vows now,” Camisasca told Avve- nire . “None of us are masters of our own future, the bishop said, “and this is all the more true for a person deprived of his freedom. This is why I wanted Luigi to think first of all what these vows mean in his present con- dition.” “In the end I convinced myself that in his gesture of self-giving there is something luminous for him, for the other prisoners and for the Church itself,” the bishop said. In reflections on his vows, Luigi wrote that chastity will allow him to “mortify what is external, so that what is most important about us may emerge.” Poverty offers him the possibility of settling for “the perfection of Christ, who has become poor” by making pov- erty itself “go from misfortune to bliss,” he wrote. Luigi wrote that poverty is also the ability to share life generously with other prison- ers like him. Obedience, he said, is the willingness to listen, even while knowing that “God also Miracles in hard time Love crept in to prisoner’s life They committed serious crimes. But a world apart, two prisoners both responded remarkably to God’s grace in their lives speaks through the mouth of the fools.” Bishop Camisasca told Avvenire that “with the [coro- navirus] pandemic we are all experiencing a time of combat and sacrifice. Luigi’s experi- ence can really be a collective sign of hope: not to escape dif- ficulties but to face them with strength and conscience. “I did not know prison, I repeat, and also for me the impact was very hard at the beginning,” he said. “It seemed to me a world of despair in which the prospect of resurrection was continual- ly contradicted and denied. “This story, like others I have known, shows that this is not the case,” said the bishop, who stressed that the merit of this vocation is “of the action of the priests, the extraordi- nary work of the prison police and of all health personnel, without a doubt”. “But on the other hand there is themystery that I can’t help but think about when I look up at the crucifix in my study. “It’s from the prison work- shop, it prevents me from forgetting the prisoners. Their sufferings and hopes are al- ways with me.” - CNA He started to pray again. He prayed, especially, “for the salvation of the man I killed,” he wrote in a letter ... His vows were a promise to live poverty, chastity and obedience exactly where he is – in prison.” ¾ ¾ By Ed Langlois IN 1993, a 39-year-old US nu- clear engineer – Hal Elkins – hit the bottle and fell into a jealous rage. He pocketed a gun and stumbled into a Sa- lem restaurant. There, he shot his girlfriend, Kathryn Linn, and the man she was with, Marvin Eugene Mayer. Linn died and Mayer was seriously hurt. A jury con- victed Elkins and the judge imposed a 33-year sentence in Oregon State Penitentiary (OSP). Within a decade, other in- mates would be calling Elkins “the Bishop of OSP.” A bear of a man at 189 centimetres, he became a legendary lay Catholic lead- er, sacristan, altar server and chaplain’s clerk. He would tell anyone he met that prison got his faith life moving from 0 to 100. “His attitude in prison seemed to be that he was serving God, not time,” said Deacon Allen Vandecoever- ing, a longtime Oregon prison minister. Elkins’ sentence came to an end in 2018. On the outside he continued as a stellar Catho- lic, going to Mass as often as work would allow and attend- ing faith formation sessions. Then, on 26 June 2019 – nine months after his release – he died of liver cancer at age 66. “He was enjoying life to the fullest and when he dis- covered that he had a termi- nal illness his faith was not shaken,” said Deacon Van- decoevering, who brought the Eucharist to Elkins as he lay dying. “He wanted to live so badly, but he surrendered to God’s will with beauty and grace.” The Eucharist was all Elkins wanted at the end. “His life was an amazing example of what God will do for us when we turn from our sins and find forgiveness,” Deacon Vandecoevering told the Catholic Sentinel , news- paper of the Archdiocese of Portland. Elkins joined the Navy during the Vietnam War and gained expertise in nuclear power. He married young, and that marriage eventually ended, leaving him devastat- ed. It was in that emotional maelstrom that he committed murder. “He regretted his crime,” said Laura Kazlas, head Catholic volunteer at Oregon State Penitentiary. “He did feel Christ’s forgiveness even- tually. It was a long road for him to get there.” In prison, Elkins carried what he called “the burden of a serious felony on one’s con- science.” Amid that, he experienced a deep conversion and be- came a gentle Catholic leader, ArchbishopAlexander Sample and Hal Elkins are seen together during a Mass in the chapel at Oregon State Penitentiary PHOTO: CNS/JON DEBELLIS, CATHOLIC SENTINEL ¾ ¾ CNA Staff