Tag Archives: prison

The Jailed Jedi


The following is a letter to insidetime, from issue April 2014
Return of the Jedi
From Name Withheld – HMP Isis
I recently put in an application asking that I be allowed to practise my religion freely – I am a Jedi. The written reply said – ‘…whilst Jedi is a recognised religion according to the UK census, it is not recognised by the National Offender Management Service and we cannot change your religious record because of this.’ This is an example of the kind of intolerance and religious bigotry faced by members of our faith on a daily basis, both within the prison system and without. Jedi’s have been portrayed very negatively in the media ever since the tragic battle of Yavin IV, when Luke Skywalker and a group of left-wing militants targeted the Death Star in a terrorist attack, killing thousands of civilian personnel. Please withhold my name in the paper as I fear retaliation from the Dark Side. May the force be with you.

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April 16, 2014 · 11:31


Some years ago a certain Meenister single-handedly managed to empty three churches in succession.  The Ministry and Mission Committee (as it the was)  deliberated and debated what to do with him  to put an end to the harm he was doing,

And came up with this surreal solution: they appointed him to the chaplaincy of a prison.


Speaking about prisons, the story is told about a chaplain who began the prison morning service with:—

“I am very glad to see you all here this morning!”

There was a pronounced titter amongst the prisoners and he corrected himself with—“I beg your pardon what I meant to say was, ‘I am glad to see that despite the inclemency of the weather you are all in your usual places.’ We will begin the service with the hymn:

“We are travelling home to God
In the way our fathers trod.”

Then one of the prisoners stood up and exclaimed—“Excuse me Sir but I wont have that aspersion on the character of my dear father!”

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June 30, 2013 · 11:20

The Coathanger

The Coat Hanger

A pastor was at church when she received a phone call that her daughter was very sick with a fever. She left church and stopped by the pharmacy to get some medication. She got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys in the car. She didn’t know what to do, so she called home and told the baby sitter what had happened. The baby sitter told her that the fever was getting worse. She said, “You might find a coat hanger and use that to open the door.”

The pastor looked around and found an old rusty coat hanger that had been left on the ground, possibly by someone else who at some time had locked their keys in their car. She looked at the hanger and said, “I don’t know how to use this.” She bowed her head and asked God to send her help. Within five minutes a beat up old motorcycle pulled up, with a dirty, greasy, bearded man who was wearing an old biker skull rag on his head.

The pastor thought, “This is what you sent to help me?” But, she was desperate, so she was also very thankful. The man got off of his cycle and asked if he could help. She said, “Yes, my daughter is very sick. I stopped to get her some medication and I locked my keys in my car. I must get home to her. Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car?” He said, “Sure.” He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute the car was open. She hugged the man and through her tears she said, “Thank You So Much! You are a very nice man.”

The man replied, “Lady, I am not a nice man. I just got out of prison today. I was in prison for car theft and have only been out for about an hour.” The pastor hugged the man again and with sobbing tears cried out loud, “Oh, Thank you God! You even sent me a Professional!”

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A matter of Perception

A matter of Perception


I’m reminded of a young man who was a member of one of my congregations.  He had severe leukaemia and was hospitalised in a small room in a hospital ward – in isolation – at the Western General in Edinburgh.  There was a small window in that room that had a magnificent view of the City sweeping upwards toward the Castle in the distance.

He was a keen artist, and had his materials brought in.  He didn’t sketch or paint pictures of despair or anger at his medical condition; rather he depicted the wonderful scene and glorious landscape that he could see from the window of his “cell” but which he would never again experience in person.

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April 10, 2013 · 08:26