Profile 2
The Servant of the Lord
Encountering Christ in Prison
By Paul Dowd, photography by Matthew Lamanno
Jim Daly says he encounters Christ every day. When he tells you this, it is clear he is not using a figure of speech. “What a thrill,” he says “to come face to face with the Lord every day.”
Where do these miraculous encounters occur? At the New Hampshire State Prison for Men in Concord. Deacon James P. Daly is the prison chaplain. He is the one and only chaplain ministering to the needs of an inmate population of 1,400, as well as the staff. It would be the most impossible, frustrating, thankless job in the world if he did not love it so much. And, if it were not for those daily encounters with Christ.
If Chaplain Jim, as he is widely known among the prison population, were restricted to use one single word to describe his role as chaplain at the State Prison, that word would be “service.” If he were limited to the use of but a single word to describe what it means to be a deacon of the Catholic church, without hesitation he would use the same word: “service.” But, to limit Deacon Jim to one word would be the equivalent of cruel and unusual punishment. He is an affable and enthusiastic conversationalist. As skilled as he is at discourse, however, his listening skills are honed sharper still. His ability to “listen between the lines” is an attribute without which a prison chaplain could not survive.
Jim, who was ordained in 2002, has devoted a great deal of thought to the role of deacon and to the role of prison chaplain. For him, they meld seamlessly. “Deacons are called to be an icon of the Servant Christ,” he says “and I cannot think of a better place for me to witness to the Servant Christ than here at the prison.”
He explains that the diaconate “is an ancient order in the church dating back to the Acts of the Apostles. (Acts 6:1-6) The deacon in the early church had a unique role assisting the Bishop to carry out works of charity, works of service.” The order of deacons gradually disappeared during the Middle Ages. The Permanent Diaconate as an ordained ministry in the Roman Catholic Church was restored after the Second Vatican Council and was revived in the United States in 1968. Deacon Jim believes that the role of the deacon is an emerging and evolving ministry. “The charisma of the deacon of the early church has yet to be rediscovered. But I believe that, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the order of deacons will be marked by its fervor for not only word and worship but also for service and charity.”
Echoing St. James, Deacon Jim is convinced we cannot be hearers and speakers of the word only, but we must be doers of the word. A deacon, Jim believes, has a unique role as “servant leader.” And, that model of “servant leader” is at the core of his approach to his responsibilities as chaplain in the prison and also in his work at Immaculate Conception Parish in Nashua. Like all deacons, Deacon Jim was assigned to a parish by the bishop and there he serves the community through baptisms, baptismal catechesis, preaching, and service at the altar.
Speaking of his role as prison chaplain, he says, “One overwhelming reality of this job is that the people I am called to serve are not just the Catholic population, not just the Christian population. The people I serve as chaplain include those who profess every religious and non-religious persuasion known to humankind, and some about which no one has ever previously heard. They range on a scale from fervent believers in God, to agnostics, to non-believers, to avowed practitioners of Wicca. How can one chaplain begin to approach a population of such unlimited diversity? I prayed and thought about that for a long time and I came to the notion of ‘servant leader.’ I can place myself in service to their needs. And I can attempt to be a leader — a role model.
“Many of the men are in prison, at least to some extent, because they have never had any good role models in their lives. If I can conduct myself in such a way that at least some of them see me as someone they can look up to, at least that is a small beginning. Perhaps then some of them will come to me and learn that I am someone they can trust. In prison, remember, the first lesson of survival is ‘trust no one!’ Can you imagine what kind of hell it is to live in a place where there is not one person you can trust? So, for the men even to come to me and begin to talk is an act of enormous courage.
“If, slowly, one by one, some come to trust me, then I can begin to try to meet them ‘where they’re at’ as some of the prisoners would express it. It is in these acts of courage, these first steps of faith, these beginning attempts to reach up from the depths of despair that I encounter Jesus Christ in the men of the State Prison.
“It is what keeps me going. And, I hope, it ultimately is what keeps some of them going."