The best kept secret in the country is what God is doing in prisons. Troy is in a state facility in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. He is a “lifer” who shares this story: A prison is a universe with its own set of laws. Old timers guard their places in the pecking order; newcomers (“fish”) vie to establish theirs.

In prison you do a lot of walking “on yard.” The sidewalk ringing the perimeter here is only wide enough for one to pass. Troy, a man in his early 40s, is strolling in one direction, the new inmate is coming toward him from the opposite. In a moment, when they reach each other, one will have to give way. How will Troy handle it, as a Christian?

The moment of truth arrives. The cocky fish approaches. Troy steps down off the curb. For a split second, this is victory for the whippersnapper. But as the younger man begins to pass, triumphant, Troy gently but firmly grasps his elbow, looks him in the eye, and says: “How is it goin’?”

The love of Christ: meekness — from a position of strength.