VOLUME AUGUST    2001 a

August 1, 2001

IN PRISON

     These men have been wanderers on the earth, reckless, wild, crazy and out of control.  And still they wander, even in here.  To and fro, back and forth they pace.

     For most, time has stalled.  That “release date” is all they see.  And between the start and finish of each of their respective prison sentences is one long blank.

     I’ve made up my mind that I don’t want to be like this.  I do not want to live in a  “dead zone”, killing time, waiting for a prison sentence to expire.

     And I don’t want time to kill me, as it does to some who die of heart attacks, strokes and sickness before they’re due for release.

     Instead I want to live life to the fullest, in fruitfulness and usefulness, even in here.  No wasting time for me.  No blank years. No squandering of strength.  No futile wishing.

     You see, in prison many men hide behind macho faces, crying in their cells for mothers at home and for grandmothers long dead.  They long for a hug from fathers they’ve never known. 

     I have my tears, sorrows and regrets, too.  But my dreams are stronger and my hope is too certain to have to keep wishing for things long gone, or to keep looking back at the past.

David Berkowitz

August 2, 2001

PHIL: LOST AND FOUND

     This afternoon I was talking to a friend.  (I’ll call him Phil; not his real name.)

He is fifty years old and hails from upstate New York, where he was born and raised in a small town.  His mom died when he was in his teens, and like many who are in prison, he struggled with alcohol and other drugs.  He ended up pulling armed robberies to support his habit, and he has more than thirty arrests under his belt, most of them for minor offenses.

     When Phil was younger he had many different jobs, mostly as a laborer for construction firms.  But his drinking problem caused him to lose one job after another, until he was an almost penniless street person living in and out of shelters in the Albany area.  It was in this city that he was arrested for his last robbery.

     Phil has already finished approximately eight years on a ten year sentence.  But like me, during some point in his incarceration he became a Christian.

     We’ve had a number of talks in the past, and sometimes I will help him write letters to his family.  He can read okay, but he can hardly write.

     And Phil’s main concern is what is going to become of his life once he’s released.  We’ve prayed about this and I can understand his fears.  His weakness is alcohol.  In most communities there’s either a liquor store or tavern on every other corner. 

     I know it’s not going to be easy for him.  But I told Phil that I believe God wants him to simply  trust in the Lord for strength and guidance.

     I also told Phil that in spite of his past failures and even his criminal record, that as a Christian he can walk out of  these prison doors with full confidence in the Lord, and with dignity.

     I reminded Phil that no matter what other people may  think of him or what his “rap sheet” may say, he has been completely forgiven by God,.  That Jesus Christ will never forsake him.

     Thus for Phil it is going to be a new beginning with a host of new challenges and many struggles.  There will be people who will look at this man with contempt and disgust because of his criminal record and his past failures—this he is sorry for but cannot change.

     But such is life.  Most of his family is gone, either through death or they disowned him.  He only has two older sisters who live out west.  But God has His hands upon Phil’s life.  And he is the kind of person the Lord is always reaching out to:  the broken and empty.

     Phil was a lost soul who was once living without hope.  He was surviving from day to day by going to the local rescue mission for his meals, and then hanging out on street corners with little chance of finding employment.  His life was filled with inner pain.

     Right now, however, he’s trying to link up with some Christian halfway houses.  There really aren’t many programs out there.  The few that are around have no bed space, and so Phil must make his contacts now so that, two years from today. One of these programs may have a bed available.

     For Phil, his worst enemy is his own flesh.  He knows the power that the  “alcohol demon"
 has had over him in the past.  But today his best friend and helper is Christ.

David Berkowitz

August 10, 2001

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS

     Today makes twenty-four years since I was first arrested, since I first began this journey of incarceration.  In spite of all the hardships of prison life plus other circumstances that brought forth many challenges, this has been and enriching experience.

     I know this sounds odd. Whoever heard of a convicted felon calling prison an "enriching experience”?   But this is the truth.  Christ has given me hope and peace.  My heart is settled.  My life is going on, and only by His grace.

     There’s that popular saying about the two prisoners.  As they looked towards a window in their cell, one saw the iron bars, the other saw the blue sky.  So prison life is many times a matter of perception.

     I could be looking back all the time, tormenting myself with thoughts day in and day out about the past---the things I am so sorry for but can never undo or change.  Or I could be focusing on what I believe with all my heart that God has called me to do.  As far as I’m concerned, there are many things to look forward to.

     I know that I will be in prison for the rest of my life.  I can accept this and I have complete peace about the matter.  Furthermore, I have never made any efforts to seek release, nor have I ever asked any Christians to campaign for release from prison.

     Such a thought nauseates me.  May God strike me dead should I ever misuse a Christian brother or sister in such a manner as to have them write a letter, circulate a petition, or do something along these lines.  

     In addition, in the coming months I will be issuing a personal statement regarding the matter of parole.  This will all be taken care of properly and decently.  I am certain that those whom I have hurt in the past and who have grave concerns about this matter will be pleased with the outcome.  Once this is done, everyone can move on with their lives.  They will not have to worry.

     And as this August 10^th comes to a close, I’m thankful that for the most part the news media has been quiet.  Another prisoner told me he had heard a brief mention about my arrest on one of those “this date in history” things.  Thankfully this was all.

     However, next year the situation will be much different.  A media storm may be brewing with lots of misinformation and confusion.  Hence my desire to straighten things out as much as possible.

     But should the Lord see fit to graciously take me out of this world through the Rapture, before the summer of 2002 arrives, this would be great!  Yet should Jesus not come this year or next, I know He will take me through the coming media storm with my faith intact.  Amen!

 David Berkowitz

August 27, 2001

FALLING IN LOVE

     With each passing day I feel myself falling in love with Jesus more and more.  To me he is my Messiah, Deliverer, Savior and Lord.  He is many other things, too.  As King David said in Psalm 18, the Lord is my rock, my strength, my high tower, and my buckler.  He protects me from all harm and guides my steps.  He’s so faithful!  I want t call upon the Lord, for He is worthy to be praised.

    
At this time of the year my heart has once again begun to beat faster.  It is the Jewish month of Elul, the month of preparation leading to the Jewish New Year, the “Feast of Trumpets”, or Rosh Hashanah.  What a marvelous and glorious time this is.

     The “days of awe” are ahead and, although I do not regard some days as being more spiritual or important than others, still, as a Jew who believes that Jesus is my Messiah, the holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur mean much to me.  For they represent the hope of Yeshua’s coming for His bride, the Church.  I want to be ready, not just for this season, but every day of the year.

     I cannot explain my views about such a holy time.  This upcoming season is just so special.  I suppose I hold the “blessed hope” in my heart that on some future day that “Great Trumpet” will sound calling me and all other believers in Jesus home to heaven.  I long with every part of my being for the day when I could meet my  Creator face to face.  How awesome!

     In any event, the Holy Spirit has been leading me to go through my lengthy prayer lists.  I have index cards and typed pages of names, places and nations whom I pray for.  I have been praying for some of these needs and situations for many years, and I would like to share a few of them now.

     The first is for a friend, Charlie B.  When he was with me, he and I used to talk about god and Spiritual things all the time.    Charlie was a homeless person with no place to go.  This was back around 1996.  I never heard from him since and I’m not expecting to.  However I remember how nervous he was when it was time for him to leave.  He used to tell me stories of his walks around New York City, and the long subway rides he would take in the winter months just to stay warm.

     Then there is “Brother Oquendo.”  He and I used to sing worship songs together in the prison yard.  Oquendo was transferred to Auburn Prison back around 1993.  Before he left he asked me to please pray for his daughters, that they would come to know God.  I think they were wayward and he, being their father, felt guilty at not being able to raise them or send them things.

     Oquendo was in his forties when I knew him.  He was HIV  and he knew when his time to leave was getting close.  He died shortly after arriving at Auburn.

     In addition, I also have a prayer burden for a young man, Travis.  I never met him. But Travis, at age seventeen, jumped off a bridge in Portland, Oregon, in  a suicide attempt.  He fell 175 feet but survived.  The police fished him out of the water, and I’ve been praying for him ever since. This happened around 1994-95.  I don’t know if he is now a Christian.  I don’t know if he’s still alive, but I hope he is.

     And I have been continuously praying for those who are living on Indian reservations all across America and Canada.  God loves the Native Americans.  They are so special to Him.

David Berkowitz

August 23, 2001

MANY WALLS

     Yesterday I received a letter from a close friend in Los Angeles, who told me the news that he had been able to go into the infamous Terminal Island prison.  He was so happy to share the good news with those prisoners that Jesus Christ loves them.  In addition, he had official permission to share his poetry.

     He then told me that the chaplain escorted him into the “Lock Down Unit” to minister to and pray with the men who have serious problems.  Some have been almost buried alive with no hope of release from this special confinement for many more years.  I guess the best way to describe this kind of setting is a “prison within a prison”.  Anyhow, even in the darkest of places, God his proclaimers of love who faithful hold out the Word of Hope.

     But my friend also told me that, to his  disappointment, it was very hard to get many of these men to “open up”.  So after I prayed about the situation, I wrote back to encourage him that, in a prison environment, this attitude is quite normal.

     I told him to keep praying about it, because God can soften any heart.  I explained that, as a general rule, prison inmates are very cautious and guarded people.  They have a fear of outsiders and it takes time to earn their trust.

     And as I was writing my letter, the Lord spoke to my heart these words, “In prison there are many walls”.  I stopped for a few minutes to think about this, and then I realized how true it is.  I had never quite seen it this way until the Holy Spirit, I believe, gave me some clarity here.

     In prison there are many walls.  Most people think that the only “walls” are those big ones of concrete that surround the perimeters of many facilities to keep the inmates in and the public safe.

     However as I began to see this, in every prison there are probably hundreds of invisible walls.  These cannot be seen with the naked eye, of course.  Yet they are just as real.

     Some of these “walls” are the walls of anger and hatred, unforgiveness and bitterness.  Still others are the walls of prejudice and racism, indifference and pride, suspicion and fear.

     Then there are many different walls of fear…fear of assault, fear of change, fear of revealing one’s true self, and for many there’s even the fear of success.

     For concerning the latter, some men and women have failed so often, that they’ve grown accustomed to and feel very comfortable with failure.  Success and the responsibility that would have to go with it actually scares them.

     Then there are the walls of a myriad of different sins.  There are lusts and desires that many prisoners do not want to give up.  And these walls keep God’s Word from entering into their lives.  These walls surround their hearts and minds to keep them in spiritual and mental darkness.  And so it is quite a challenge for anyone to minister in such a place.

     But as Jesus has said, “The things which are impossible with men are possible with God” (Luke 18:27).  I reminded my friend about this and encouraged him to stay faithful to his call.  I asked him to continue to show kindness, love and compassion.  That in time he will earn trust and respect.  I reminded my friend that the God who called him will also equip him for this ministry, and he will prosper.