By Msgr. Noel C. Burtenshaw

As the giant gates clang shut, strange thoughts go through your head. Suppose a riot breaks out. Suppose you’re taken hostage. But that’s just movie stuff. You walk on with the rest to prepare for this Sunday morning Liturgy.

You are in the Federal Penitentiary. And is sounds like “Little Cuba.” Everyone is speaking Spanish. They shout and wave from windows and locked doors. With Father Richard Kieran, you wave back. And they grin. They are happy you are here. They are happy to see you.

Father Kieran (Spanish spoken with an Irish accent) has been leading a Sunday morning team into the Atlanta Penitentiary for three months. “When we started,” says Father Kieran, “only a few came. Now it’s up to 150.” He’s right, although this Sunday many do not show up. “There is a lot of tension,” says John Shoemaker, a married deacon who assists at Mass. “Things could get rough. Those men are getting very impatient.”

There are 1,700 Cubans in the Penitentiary awaiting clearance by the Federal Government. These are men who came from Cuba as boat people, refugees from persecution. However, very many of this group came to the U.S. directly from Cuban prisons. “By their own admission,” says Rev. Charles Riggs, who is regional chaplain for federal prisons, “many of these men were in prison in Cuba. Of course, some were there for political crimes or very non-violent simple crimes. We are waiting for Washington to act.”

Over in the chapel, as Father Kieran prepares the altar, hymns are practiced. Men like Raul Delgado and Miguel Morales go into action leading the singing. It sounds strong – if not always on key. Beside the altar is the Israeli flag, reminding one and all that the chapel is a center of many faiths. On the wall is a vividly drawn picture of the Cuban Madonna – Virgen de la Caridad – which one of the inmates painted.

The Mass begins and more of the team answer the response with the men. The homily is obviously a sermon and an instruction in the faith. They listen to Father Kieran without strain or difficulty. As the Consecration approaches all are down on both knees. Most of the men receive Communion very devoutly. The line of white prison uniforms goes back and forth as Deacon Shoemaker and Father Kieran distribute the Bread of Life. They kneel in thanksgiving.

After Mass the men stand in little groups chatting with Father Kieran and his team. “We just have time for the Mass on Sundays,” says Father (Padre Richardo) Kieran, “but at other times we have catechism. Father Raimundo Salano has class with the men on Mondays and Fathers Jorge Christancho and Mauro Murdot are helping with a very difficult ministry. They go to the men who are not permitted to leave the cell block. So we have a hard-working team of priests and people. Fathers Jorge and Mauro have been most helpful with the hunger strikes.”

But tensions remain very high. Many of these men want to be productive in the community. In broken English one said, “It is not right for us to be here. Lots of us are not criminals.” In Spanish, feverishly pointing and gesturing, they tell the team that something must be done.

As the authorities at the prison work to bring some order to the lives of these men, the priests and the Spanish-speaking team of men bring the consolation of the Church to them. And other groups join them. The Jehovah Witnesses have a very active group and other Protestant pastors bring the Gospel to smaller groups.

At 10:30, after being with these men for 90 minutes, the signal is given to leave. We march back to those giant electrically operated gates and stand to be counted. There is some relief to be out in the sunshine. Up in the guard tower we are watched as we leave. You think of those men, hating to see you go, heading back for another day of prison life.

But as they wait for their important resolution that may make them productive citizens in the community, they have the consolation of knowing their local church cares.