Free Indeed

I've read and heard a handful of thoughts and stories about Chuck Colson since his death on Saturday.  But none of them has stuck with me like the story I first read more than 10 years ago.  I suppose part of the reason is because I love music, and I love hearing good stories behind the writing of good songs.  Here is the story that I read, written by Steven Curtis Chapman in Speechless: Living in Awe of God's Disruptive Grace. (pp. 111-115).  At the end of the story are the lyrics to and audio of Chapman's song Free.

I have had the privilege of meeting some extraordinary Christian leaders, but none has made a greater impression than Chuck Colson.  God brought us together, and it has been my honor to invest time and heart in the work of Prison Fellowship.  Chuck has enabled me to take my music into may prison facilities during the course of my concert tours--but that's the easiest thing he has done for me.

.....

It was a bright sunny day as I emptied my pockets before passing through the metal detectors.  No, I was not boarding a plane for yet another concert date.  I stood at the entrance to the Michigan City Correctional Institute, a maximum security prison in Northern Indiana.  I felt both excited and nervous as I anticipated visiting death row for the first time.  Every preconceived image of life within prison I had obtained from film, news clips, and a child's imagination ran through my mind.

"Steven!" I heard the ring of that familiar voice from across the room.

"Hi, Chuck, how are you?"  It still felt kind of strange calling this hero of the faith of mine by his first name, but it also felt reassuring to know I was with a friend.  He explained that prior to our worship service on the prison yard, we would be visiting inmates on death row, including one man who had become a Christian forty years earlier.  The ministry of Prison Fellowship had become a primary means of discipleship and nurture for him, even as Chuck had become one of his best friends.

I stayed close to my new buddy and mentor as he navigated our way through the series of iron-gated entries.  Each set of doors would electronically open and then close behind us before the next set would do the same.  What an eerie feeling.  Eventually we began our journey down the long hallway lined with cells inhabited by sons, fathers, and grandfathers who were paying the price for some terrible crime committed.

I watched my teacher intently as he offered grace to those we encountered.  Whether it was simply a smile, a word, a handshake through the bars and many times a prayer, Chuck was showing me what it means to treat all men with dignity and respect.  I'm not sure I have ever met anyone who can so freely love in the most difficult of situations a segment of society that appears to be so unlovable.

I tried to emulate him as I grew a little more confident.  I listened to the sad lament of a grandfather who showed me the pictures of his grandchildren whom he had wounded deeply with his tragic choices.  Together, Chuck and I prayed with one African-American brother who greeted us with a smile and a joy that could only be traced to the life-giving grace of God.  He, like many others, spoke with great remorse and sorrow for the lives of those affected most by the evil they had done, namely, the victims and their loved ones.  This brother went on to tell us how God had given him life and freedom even though he was deserving of death.  He told us how he had been and would continue to be praying for us as we carried the gospel to others inside the prison, as well as those outside the stone walls.  In some ways he seemed to be a whole lot more free in his prison cell than many of us who will never see the inside of such a person.

Our cell block walk culminated with a visit to Chuck's friend Bob (not his real name) inside a heavily secured room.  I would describe it as the equivalent of a large iron-caged room inside two other iron cages.  Bob was a large man, and when he shuffled into the room in shackles and handcuffs, I felt a surge of fear come over me.  However, as we all talked, I only saw the evidence of a man who had been changed from death to life.  I watched as Chuck and Bob embraced for the first time without handcuffs impeding their hug.  The three of us then wrapped arms around each other in a circle and thanked God for his love.  What else could level the ground in such a profound way that one of the great Christian leaders of our time, a death-row inmate, and a Christian songwriter could come together before the throne of the living God as brothers, one in Christ?

This first trip proved to be one of the most profound experiences of the awesome reality of God's grace I have ever encountered.  It also helped me further define the kind of men and women who I want to follow as they follow Christ.  The events of that day inspired me to write a song called "Free," which was included on my Signs of Life album.  Knowing Chuck and getting to visit many correctional institutions since that first visit only deepens my desire for God to free my heart to love all men as he loves me in his Son.

Free

The sun was beating down inside the walls of stone and razor wire
As we made our way across the prison yard
I felt my heart begin to race as we drew nearer to the place
Where they say that death is waiting in the dark
The slamming doors of iron echoed through the halls
Where despair holds life within its cruel claws
But then I met a man who's face seemed so strangely out of place
A blinding light of hope was shining in his eyes
And with repentance in his voice he told me of his tragic choice
That led him to this place where he must pay the price
But then his voice grew strong as he began to tell
About the One he said had rescued him from hell, he said...

I'm free, yeah, oh, I have been forgiven
God's love has taken off my chains and given me these wings
And I'm free, yeah, yeah, and the freedom I've been given
Is something that not even death can take away from me
Because I'm free
Jesus set me free

We said a prayed and said goodbye and tears began to fill my eyes
As I stepped back out into the blinding sun
And even as I drove away I found that I could not escape
The way he spoke of what the grace of God had done
I thought about how sin had sentenced us to die
And how God gave His only Son so you and I could say...

And if the Son has set you free,
Oh, if the Son has set you free
Then you are free indeed,
Oh, You are really free
If the Son has set you free,
Oh, if the Son has set you free
Then you are free, really, really free

Oh, we're free, yearh, oh, we have been forgiven
God's grace has broken every chain and given us these wings
And we're free, yeah, yeah, and the freedom we've been given
Is something that not even death can take from you and me
Because we're free, yeah, the freedom we've been given
Is something that not even death can take from you and me
Becayse we're free, oh, we're free
We are free, we are free
The Son has set us free

If the Son has set you free
You are free indeed

I'm a Wreck, Too

I'll readily admit that I'm abnormal.  In a lot of ways.  One of those is in my musical taste.  I consider myself to be rather eclectic, listening to a little of this to a little of that - from pop to rock to oldies, classical to rap, I'll even tolerate a little bit of country from time to time.  But for the past 22 years, I've given the same answer time & time again when asked who my favorite artist or group is.  Steven Curtis Chapman.  Ever since I got my tape of his For the Sake of the Call (go ahead, I'll wait while you go check out his mullet from back then; by the way, When You Are A Soldier continues to be one of my favorite all time songs).  I was reminded yesterday of one of the many reasons why I continue to love Steven Curtis Chapman.  Andrew Peterson recently wrote about his experience touring with Steven Curtis Chapman.  Here's a bit of what he wrote:

And yet, though everyone seems to know him, I’ve never heard a single negative story about the guy. I’ve been in Nashville for 15 years now, and, well, you tend to hear less-than-flattering stories about folks from time to time (I’m sure there are a few about me floating around out there), but I have yet to hear one of those about Steven. What that might lead a rascal like me to conclude is that either a) Steven is so squeaky-clean he must be hard to like or b) he’s a complete wreck and he’s hiding it. I didn’t realize until this tour was underway that there’s a third option. Here it is: Steven is a wreck, he’s not hiding it, and because of the mighty presence of Jesus in his life, grace abounds to those around him.


It’s the great, confounding reversal of the Gospel of Jesus. If the word we preach is one of attainable perfection, of law, of justification by works, then when we fail, our testimony fails with it. But if we preach our deep brokenness and Christ’s deeper healing, if we preach our inability to take a single breath but for God’s grace, then our weakness exalts him and we’re functioning as we were meant to since the foundation of the world. Steven isn’t super-human. He’s just human. But what a glorious thing to be! An attempt on our part to be super-human will result only in our in-humanness–like a teacup trying to be a fork: useless. But if the teacup will just be a teacup, it will be filled. Humans were made (as was everything under the sun) for the glory of the Maker. Why should we try to be anything but fully human? Let God fill us up and pour us out; let him do what he will, let us be what we were meant to be. That gives us the freedom to sing about what’s really happening in our hearts without being afraid of sullying the good name of God. If our hearts are contending with the forces of darkness, clinging desperately to the hope of a Savior, then to sing boldly about the battle is no shame to us and all glory to our King.

Amen.  That reminded me of the line I've seen - "I'm the wretch that song refers to."  We need to be reminded of this, of God's glorious grace to us in Christ Jesus.  We need to remember that our witness to the Gospel is not primarily that Jesus has made our lives better or easier, but that we are sinners who have been saved by the grace of God.  I want to be able to say, as John Newton (the author of Amazing Grace) did, "Although my memory's fading, I remember two things very clearly: I am a great sinner and Christ is a great Savior."

National Adoption Month

I was blessed this morning to be able to share a bit of my heart for adoption and spend some time as a class praying.  While listening to some Christmas music this afternoon as we were putting up our Christmas tree, I was reminded of the following song and wanted to share it on the heels of our time thinking about adoption this morning: