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The Sydney Home
| Conversation: Fr Aiden Kelly, prison chaplain - Helping souls in a captive Congregation
NO MAN’S LAND: Fr Aiden Kelly’s life as a priest has been as a prison chaplain By Chris Lindsay A Franciscan priest once told prison chaplain Fr Aiden Kelly: “I work on the front line.” He replied: “I work in no man’s land, mate!” A chaplain in England at Her Majesty’s Prison Risley, in Warrington, Cheshire – between Manchester and Liverpool – Fr Aiden constantly sees the darker side of life among the 1056 male prisoners, but also the glimpses of light that indicate a way out for the souls in his care. Fr Aiden has been working in prisons for 15 years – his entire career in the priesthood. He has been in Australia on holiday, visiting an aunt and cousins in Sydney, seeing how the Church operates here and spending some time with Catholic Mission Australia. “I have been in prison work since I started,” he says. “It was an appointment by the bishop. “But I enjoy it. There are very few situations where you are with your congregation all day, where you get to constantly interview your parishioners. “I know a lot more about my parishioners than most priests would ever know. The relationship with them is intense, I am always dealing with their problems and the crises in their lives. “I am also dealing with a much younger group of people than in a normal congregation.” Fr Aiden says Risley is essentially a training prison, with an emphasis on resettlement in the community. “There are a lot of education courses involving acquiring skills such as technical know-how, computers, building skills, and industrial tasks,” he says. “The prison also has links to employment services to help prisoners find work when they leave. “As one of the prison chaplains, I do a lot of counselling and rehabilitation work with the prisoners to help restore them to the community. We see the loss of liberty as the penalty for the prisoners. If they are not restored to the community but just let loose, that becomes another penal aspect. “Twenty five per cent of the prisoners declare themselves as Catholics, but there might be more, as 20 per cent write ‘nil’ in the section on religion.” Fr Aiden says counselling is one of the main roles of prison chaplains. “The chaplain section at Risley is an independent unit, we are not involved in the education aspects, instead we are there to support the prisoners through the crises they find themselves in,” he says. “The average sentence is four-to-five years, but we have everything from lifers through to short term prisoners. Lifers can be returned to the community through the parole board. The prisoners are not segregated. “As chaplain I am involved in providing the full liturgy of the Catholic Church, saying Mass, providing Reconciliation, whatever the prisoners require. “A lot of my work is trying to get them to see what they have done and understand its effect on others. Some of them understand that murder is wrong, but we have to get them to understand why it is wrong, what is sacred about human life. “They have to understand that it is no good simply saying ‘sorry’; they have to realise the whole aspect of what they have done. I am very much like a spiritual director.” Fr Aiden is also involved in prison support groups like the sex offender treatment programs. “We provide the prisoners with courses such as ‘enhanced thinking skills’ – how they act in situations; do they evaluate the situation or do they just react?” he says. “We look at how compulsive they are and, if necessary, they do an anger management program to teach them how to control their rage. The original concept of an ‘eye for an eye’ is not one of revenge but of balance. It is really about equity and proportion.” Drugs, of course, are a problem for the prisoners, both in and outside Risley. “There are a whole variety of substance abuse courses,” says Fr Aiden. “Most crimes are drug related. There is a drug problem within Risely prison as there is in every prison, but we encourage prisoners to sign up for the voluntary testing program. “There is a compulsory testing program, of course, but at least half the prisoners are on the voluntary program to prove they are off drugs. This doesn’t do them any harm when it comes time to front the parole board. “The emphasis is on encouraging people to move on in life, it fits well with the Christian message.” Does Fr Aiden ever feel fear when in the prison; has he ever felt in danger? “Never. In fact, there is far more respect for a priest inside the prison than outside,” he says. “The level of trust inside the prison is also higher than outside and the chaplains are highly thought of by the prisoners. “It reflects the need of the prisoners to be listened to, the healing aspect of our work. There is a high level of abuse in the backgrounds of prisoners, not just sexual abuse as is often thought, but also physical and emotional abuse, particularly emotional abuse.” Is his work of guiding prisoners towards a better life, both spiritually and practically, successful? “It is very hard to judge,” he says. “People are only in prison for what they are caught doing, so if they leave and don’t come back that doesn’t exactly prove that they are no longer involved in crime. You have got to be realistic about statistics. If there is a conviction rate of 27 per cent for a crime then it is a fact that 73 per cent have got away with it. “But people can turn their lives around. We have had people who left prison and made a good career forthemselves. I have had very good successes. “It’s funny, but people tend to remember me more than I remember them. They will come up to me in the street and say ‘hello’ and tell me what they are doing with their lives. For many I am the only priest they have met personally in their lives and the only priest they ever will meet.” Fr Aiden says the Gospel is very specific in his ministry. “The Church cannot ignore prisons and the marginalised people in them,” he says. “It is missionary work at its heart. Most prisoners do not have a sense of their own value. If I ask a prisoner: ‘Tell me 10 bad things about yourself’ he will rattle them off. If I ask him: ‘Tell me 10 good things about yourself’ he is just like a goldfish, his mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out. “If we don’t value ourselves we can’t value others. This is core Christianity. In prison we have to reach into people and find their soul, find the underlying reasons for their problem. “The most rewarding time for me is when people tell me things they have never told anyone else. Quite often it is the first time they have ever revealed anything in confidence to anyone, because they are absolutely certain I will keep their confidence. It is even in the prison regulations that I cannot reveal what a prisoner has told me. “And once a person trusts you there is a degree of loyalty. “One of our jobs is to be a bearer of bad news. If a prisoner’s mother has died we are usually the ones who must tell him. But we then stay with the person to help him through it; we ‘travel’ with him as he experiences the emotions. “The work carries its bruises ... it is essential to get a rest from it. You can only push yourself so far.”
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