It’s one thing to foster Jewish fellowship on college campuses or at community centers. It’s quite another to do so in prison.
Yet that is what a number of dedicated rabbis and Jewish chaplains do every day, locally and around the country. Their outreach behind bars flies below the radar. Yet, as our cover story reveals, it is holy work, in keeping with the Jewish mission to heal the world.
Chaplain Carole Hyman, the central figure in our story, serves a small but active Jewish congregation at San Quentin State Prison in unincorporated Marin County.
Because of strict prison regulations and Jewish law, there are limits to what she can provide. Ritual objects such as tefillin are forbidden, halachic conversions almost impossible and a steady supply of certified kosher food subject to review.
None of that stops Hyman from bringing a measure of spiritual comfort to prisoners.
Interestingly, many of the men she serves are not Jewish. Some are looking to convert, but most appear to be seeking spiritual solace and, perhaps, a moral structure for the lives they want to rebuild. Hyman does not check anyone’s Jewish ID at the door. At her weekly Shabbat services, all are welcome. This is appropriate, as religious services fall within the rubric of rehabilitation rather than punishment.
As our story indicates, in recent decades the majority of prison-based outreach has been taken on, perhaps not surprisingly, by Chabad and Chabad-affiliated organizations. Hopefully, Hyman’s example will spur others in the Jewish community to engage in this important work. Already, a handful of Bay Area congregations volunteer in local prisons; that is a good beginning.
It may strike some as questionable to devote precious community resources to such a small corner of the Jewish world — so small, some of the corner isn’t even Jewish. We would respectfully disagree.
In Jewish tradition we are commanded to help others, no matter how challenging the task. The dictum that to save one life is akin to saving the entire world echoes in our ears. So, too, do the words of Isaiah: “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.”
The more than 300 Jewish prisoners in California, and 1,400 nationwide, did not give up their human rights when they were sentenced. Those working toward rehabilitation and re-entry, as well as those serving life sentences, deserve the comfort of faith, no matter what crimes they committed.