That his life turned out the way it did proves what the
Prophet Jeremiah told the scattered, defeated people of Israel whose sins and
failures led to their collapse as a nation and exile to Babylon. “God says ‘For I know the plans I have for
you, plans . . . to give you a future and a hope.’”
Chuck Colson, lawyer, rabid-Republican, a right-hand presence
to Richard Nixon, was known as a fixer. Anything Nixon needed done, Colson
would make happen. He was ruthless, brilliant,
arrogant and deeply committed to Nixon and his success in the Presidency.
It was Colson who went after Daniel Ellsberg – leaker of the
famous “Pentagon Papers” which detailed America’s military failures in Vietnam –
using a series of illegally orchestrated actions against Ellsberg to embarrass
and discredit him. Colson engaged the
likes of Howard Hunt and G. Gordon Liddy, who shortly thereafter gained
notoriety with their botched break-in at the Watergate Hotel.
Indicted on a charge of obstruction of justice for his role
in the Ellsberg affair, Colson ignored the advice of his lawyer and friends and
pled guilty, no questions asked, no deal sought. He claimed a religious conversion. He’d “found Jesus” and he had to eliminate
his old life before he could begin anew.
For that, he was ridiculed and lampooned. Sentenced to one to three years in a minimum
security Federal prison, he made parole after seven months. His imprisonment had a profound effect on his
life.
His “frightening experience in confinement” taught him that
prison, for the vast majority of those sentenced, was a horrible failure and
not a suitable punishment. Prisons, he
argued turned prisoners into embittered individuals who could only “contemplate
escape and revenge at every turn.”
Colson founded Prison Fellowship, a Christian prison program
evangelizing the incarcerated and pushing for prison reform and dignity for
those behind bars. His work led to him
receiving the prestigious Templeton Prize in 1993, a million dollar award given
to the person who had done the most to advance religion in that year.
For inmates and their families – Christian, Muslim, atheist –
it didn’t matter, Colson was a source of comfort and hope. Few programs work well in prison. Prison Fellowship is one shining success in a
sea of despair.
A few days after my arrest, as I calculated and contemplated
ending my life realizing my worst fears had happened – I was losing everything
even though I’d prayed over and over for a way out – I ran across Colson’s
autobiography, “Born Again”. Shortly
thereafter I instructed my lawyer that I would cooperate fully, plead guilty to
all charges brought provided I could sign our home and personal effects over to
my wife. Lawyers, friends and a doctor
told me not to do it. “You’ll have no
leverage with the Commonwealth. You’ll
have nothing if she divorces you.” It didn’t
matter. I’d made a promise to God to put
aside the old.
Many times, days that I thought would never end, I returned
to something I heard Colson say. He
would go through everything again, he said, for the opportunity to experience
God’s grace. I thought of that often and
it sustained me.
Colson was a brilliant, driven man. And, like all of us, he was flawed. Yet God had a plan for Chuck Colson. God has a plan for all of us.
Outwardly, Colson was the same man, still driven, still
amusing, still engaging. But inwardly he
was a new creation. That his “new” life
didn’t begin until he was in his late forties gives me hope.
The work Chuck Colson began with prisoners and prison reform
will continue. And for that, those of us
in here can rejoice. Chuck Colson and
his story of faith will never be forgotten. 
