If you haven’t heard of Prison Entrepreneurship Program (PEP), it is an amazing organization that pairs up business executives and MBA students with Texas inmates to develop business skills and business plans.  Inmates across the state compete every 6 months to be among the 100 selected to participate in something that seems to be part Pine Cove in the sense of camaraderie (unheard of in the gang-infested prison system), and part MBA program in the sense of academic rigor.  When they graduate they have a working business plan, a network, and the skills to start their own small businesses.  In a state where the prison recidivism rate is over 50%, PEP boasts an incredible 5% rate over the past six years of existence.

This amazing initiative was started by, fittingly, an amazing individual.  Catherine Rohr, former Wall Street financial mogul (as well as a UC-Berkeley grad and Jiu-Jitsu champion), was worth millions and barely into her 30′s.  Catherine was also a recent Christian, and not ashamed of it.  On a spur-of-the-moment weekend trip to a Texas prison with Chuck Colson she realized the prisons were full of entrepreneurs–just on the wrong side of the law; she decided all they needed were business skills (as well as parenting skills) and people who believed in them.  Thus began a long, tough journey that took her from wealth to bankruptcy and took former gang members, murderers, thieves, and drug dealers and turned them into successful businessmen and fathers.

Catherine pushed through the difficulties of the prison system, the finances, and her colleagues’ opinions to create one of the most talked about and successful non-profit endeavors of the first decade.  She was featured in the Wall Street Journal, NY Times, Christianity Today–all of the leading news and business publications.  She was the spirit of PEP.  Every inmate, volunteer, and mere acquaintance revered her.  (I mean, she could probably hold her own even with the toughest criminal).  Catherine traveled the country speaking to top-tier MBA programs, speaking at churches, speaking at women’s conferences, recruiting executives, and raising funds.

Then 2009 came.  Divorce papers were filed.  Feelings were hurt, trust was broken. An incredibly strong and beautiful woman became wearied and broken down.  Still, after taking time off, she continued to push through as CEO of PEP and built it to new heights.  The largest graduate class ever.  The most funding ever.  The most freedom within the prison system.  Then December 2009 came.  Catherine Rohr resigned amidst internal reports of an inappropriate relationship with an inmate.

Not much was said about Catherine after that.  At least not much in the media, maybe behind closed doors.  A letter was sent out to the PEP community of supporters and volunteers explaining the situation.  Catherine sent out a long, heart-felt apology soon after.

I was once a volunteer with PEP.  I haven’t volunteered since 2008 year because of other responsibilities, but it was hard for me to imagine ever volunteering again or even reading the PEP’s periodic mailings after hearing the news.  You see, we were betrayed.  We were let down.  I was betrayed, I was let down.  Catherine was such a strong witness for Christ.  She had literally given up everything to help “the least of these.”  Then she brought shame and disgrace to herself and a great organization in a time of weakness.  Wait a second– I was let down?

No, I let myself down.  I was the one who put Ms. Rohr on a pedestal.  Whether I had realized it or not, I was looking to her as a Christ figure.  And we all do that.  We are all looking for a savior.  And it feels so good when we think we’ve finally found one with skin on.  We look to other humans to be something they can never be–perfect.  That, my friends, is the human situation.  People are going to let you down, disappoint you, and even hurt you.  Thankfully, God is the ultimate healer, the Jehovah-Rapha who reminds us that there was one person with skin who was perfect, once and for all.  He was God incarnate.  And he was also a “man of sorrows, acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53).”  He is our Hope (Psalm 46, 1 Timothy 1) and our Deliverance (Psalm 18).  Our Rock (2 Samuel 22), Redeemer (Isaiah 44), and Refuge (Deuteronomy 33).  In Him, no one will be put to shame (Psalm 25).  Christ is Ms. Rohr’s redeemer.  Christ is my redeemer.  So, remember that the next time you find yourself straining your neck, looking up at another tainted image of the invisible God.  Remember that the next time you realize you’re human, too.

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