Matthew 25 and the Carceral State

Rev. Carol Wickersham, Retired Clergy, Presbytery of Milwaukee

In recent years, many Christians have embraced Matthew 25:31-46 as Jesus’ call to action. Churches have recentered service to “the least of these” as a way to serve God. It is my perception that the church folk do a pretty good job of acknowledging their duty to the hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, sick…but less so with the incarcerated. Maybe it is because the incarcerated are out of sight behind locked doors. 

Royal blue to black gradient background. Light blue line fram with quotation marks. Gold text reads, “We are not only called to reduce suffering, we also serve a God who transcends the powers and principalities which structure that suffering.”

This reflection is my way to lift the incarcerated to near the top of our list as a focus of mission and ministry for three reasons. First, jail chaplaincy is good for souls of both incarcerated and the visitor. Second, ICE is an extension of already existing systems of mass incarceration. We should not wait until ICE comes to our community to visit those in jail or prison. Third, not only Matthew 25, but also Ephesians 6: 12, Colossians 2:15, and Romans 8:38 remind us that we are not only called to reduce suffering, we also serve a God who transcends the powers and principalities which structure that suffering.

But first, a little about how I came to this place. Prior to COVID, I served for four years as a volunteer jail chaplain. I was a Presbyterian pastor busy teaching community-based sociology at Beloit College. As a part of my work, I placed students at community field sites to learn through experience which we then reflected on in our weekly seminar. To keep myself grounded and honest, I also assigned myself a field site. The jail became my place to learn deeper lessons about sociology and the Spirit. This was not at the top of my to-do list, but I was roped in by a band of tenacious Catholic laity who were doing this Matthew 25 work. Getting through the paperwork took six months of pestering, but finally, the prison doors opened inward.

So, I walked into the warren of windowless cinder block halls the color and texture of pale, goosebumpy flesh; smelling of overcooked vegetables and dirty laundry. Like in the movies, our footsteps echoed as doors were unlocked and clanged shut. One of the first prisoners I met was Kara, who was awaiting sentencing for having abandoned her months old infant in order to search for the drugs she craved. The neighbors heard the wailing of the cold, hungry, wet baby and called the police. 

Kara’s only consolation was that he was okay–it could have been otherwise. Her misery was both her guilt and the fact that she had no idea where he was or if she would ever see him again. She was in jail but also in hell. She said that she did not believe that God would ever forgive her. She thought she was a goat, cast out of God’s presence into eternal torment. I told her that I did not believe that and shared some scripture about Jesus' grace and mercy. She listened and then said, “Maybe…but will I ever forgive myself?” That I didn’t know. I was glad I would be back the next week to continue the conversation. At that moment, the Corrections Office growled over the loudspeaker that our time was up. We hastily prayed for each other and for her child. And I went to my car and sobbed because I knew I had just met Jesus.

I’m Presbyterian, thus, not prone to mysticism, but I have a lot of thoughts about how the Spirit lives free behind bars. Jail ministry is both much needed and soul stretching, not just for the inmates or the chaplains, but for all of us. Almost every time I speak about my experiences from the pulpit, someone comes up to talk with me in hushed tones about a parent or friend or child who has done time. While they often feel they are the only ones in the church bearing this burden, the stats make it clear that EVERY congregation is touched by incarceration. Perhaps it is time to bring the conversation out of the corners of the coffee hour and into the center of the sanctuary and the city square. I’m speaking not only as a pastor but a sociologist. Crime is both normal and stigmatizing, threaded throughout all societies and threatening.

This leads to my second urgent reason to push us to prioritize ministry with the incarcerated: ICE plans to spend $38 billion on new detention “facilities” or "processing centers”. Let’s not use euphemisms, these are prisons with the capacity to house an additional 100,000 people as a part of the deportation pipeline. These detention facilities are an extension of the already capacious carceral state. The United States is home to 4% of the world's population and 16% of those who are incarcerated, a total of 1.8 million as of early 2026. Somewhere between .54 % and .58 % of the U.S. population is serving time, depending on what’s counted by whom. Wisconsin has seen a 640% increase in the number of people behind bars since 1970 and most of this growth has been at the county level in the jails. If you want to see data for Wisconsin or your county, the Vera Institute is a reliable resource.

This brings me to my last point. Once when I was visiting the jail, another chaplain cornered a young woman to interrogate her about her faith to see if she was the “right” kind of Christian. She was literally up against a wall, and he was menacingly close, practically shouting in her face, “Is Jesus Christ your personal Lord and Savior?” Quite shaken, she quavered, “Well, sir, I don’t think it’s personal, I think he came to save a lot of people”. I’ve always appreciated her clarity, which echoes what Paul said at several junctures (Ephesians 6:12; Colossians 1:16, 2:15: Romans 8:38). Jail ministry is not just about the salvation of individual souls or converting people to our brand of religion. God isn’t just about binding up wounds but also confronting the systems and structures, the powers and principalities, that cause the harm. This means that jail chaplaincy is not just about praying for and with incarcerated individuals. We also are called to stop feeding those systems that prey on them.

It is a sociological maxim that “If you build a prison, you will fill it”. In other words, the prison census is largely driven by the number of cells rather than the number of criminals. We can always redefine what counts as crime and even set quotas until all the cells are full. We are witnessing this maxim in action. ICE claims it needs to build “holding facilities” to house “illegals” who are the “worst of the worst”. These detention facilities are prisons, and barely that, because they are exempt from the regulations that keep prisons from turning into concentration camps. Already ICE is having a hard time filling their arbitrary quotas.There simply aren't enough “bad hombres” to go around. An ever wider and less discriminating net has been cast, ensnaring those seeking asylum, international students with visas, brown-skinned citizens, kids, tourists, and those who stand with them. We can imagine a time in the future when society decides we have finally deported enough people, but history and research tell us we will continue to find reasons to fill the cells.

And finally, one more incentive to engage in jail chaplaincy–jails are one of the first places where ICE goes to locate alleged criminals. While all Wisconsin counties cooperate with federal officials as required by law, most have not signed onto the currently voluntary 287 (g) program which permits local law enforcement to act as immigration officials. Understanding this distinction and where your county stands is an important step in offering holy resistance to the powers and principalities. Getting to know the inmates in jail makes it more likely that help can be offered, including support for their families.

If we want to bear witness to the love of God for the strangers and immigrants, the place to start is in our own backyard and the time to start is now. It is gratifying to watch the church reinvigorate networks of witness and resistance, with singing and whistles, grocery brigades and clergy kneeling in the streets. And it is also wise to hold workshops about what to do if ICE comes to your town, but we can’t wait until then. The carceral state was there long before ICE and it will remain long after ICE melts away; as long as it is there, Jesus will be, too.


If you are involved in or know about jail chaplaincy in your area, please let us know

We invite you to include prayers for inmates, their families, correctional staff and those who shape criminal justice policies and systems in your individual and congregational prayers. If you have educational materials or liturgy around this issue, we welcome your submissions.

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