c. 1998 Religion News Service

(Samuel K. Atchison is an ordained minister and has worked as a policy analyst and social worker to the homeless. He currently is a prison chaplain in Trenton, N.J.)

UNDATED _ At a recent seminar on civil and legal rights, I received an interesting insight into both the hopes and frustrations of the African-American community.

The forum, sponsored by the Trenton, N.J., chapter of the NAACP, was convened in response to a series of violent incidents involving city residents and the local police department. The opening session included brief addresses by two members of the NAACP’s Youth Council. And there I saw the hope.

Understandably nervous, in a facility with no microphone and bad acoustics, the young people bravely greeted the seminar participants and read the organization’s mission statement. Far more important than their reading of scripted comments, however, was the very fact of their involvement.

By participating in such an important local event, the teens were being trained to hold positions of responsibility and authority in the future _ they were being prepared for leadership.

Then there is the experience of the young people with whom I work in prison. Often brilliant, self-taught, and possessing a variety of gifts and talents, they are afforded few opportunities to strut their stuff. That’s the frustration.

In talking with a fellow panelist at the seminar, I lamented the tremendous brain drain in African-American communities resulting from crime and incarceration. The other panelist, a former Superior Court judge, readily agreed.

At the heart of this disparity between the youths at the seminar and those in prison is a classic case of the”haves”and the”have nots.” However, in this case the currency is measured less in terms of financial resources than human resources.

As criminologist John DiIulio observes in a recent issue of PRISM magazine, the journal of Evangelicals for Social Action,”The sad truth is that some children, including increasing numbers of inner-city minority adolescents and young adults who find themselves in trouble with the law, lack even one … positive and persistent adult presence in their lives.” The truth of DiIulio’s statement is borne out in the testimonies of many of the young men with whom I work. Most were reared by their mothers or grandmothers and never developed a meaningful relationship with their fathers.

Some were thrust into the role of breadwinner at an early age and found crime to be the only way to make ends meet. Still others followed the dysfunctional behavior patterns of their fathers, eventually joining them in prison.

I addressed these and related issues in a workshop at the NAACP seminar. My colleagues, who possess a broad range of experiences, provided much-needed insight into the legal rights and civic responsibilities of the citizenry.

But as a pastor bridging the gap between the criminal justice system and society-at-large, I feel it is necessary to address a more overarching moral and spiritual question: To what degree is the church willing to increase its presence in the life of the community and its residents?

To be sure, as DiIulio notes, the church is already visible in the inner city. He cites statistics demonstrating that the vast majority of black inner-city churches provide one or more outreach programs, including day care, substance abuse counseling, and after school”safe havens,”among other things.

Yet from personal experience I suspect many of these initiatives are run by a few dedicated church members who feel compelled to address one or more specific needs. In some cases, the church building merely serves as a convenient location for one or more programs being provided by outside groups.

Thus, it is likely relatively few churches run outreach ministries that are manned by a critical mass of their members. To the degree this is true, community residents are not being served as well as they might.

But in the meantime, our children are being incarcerated at an alarming rate, taking much of our future with them.

DEA END ATCHISON