Behind the Walls
A Practical Guide to Christian Prison Ministry from the Inside Out
© 2026 John M. Cobin. All rights reserved.
Communication is your lifeline. The imprisoned man’s ability to participate in his own defense is severely limited. Meetings with lawyers occur in the módulo’s narrow lunchroom, surrounded by other inmates and guards, with no meaningful confidentiality. Phone calls are made on smuggled cell phones—a necessity, but one that carries risks if the phone is discovered. Important legal documents are reviewed on tiny screens. The prosecution has unlimited resources, institutional support, and the advantage of operating from offices with computers, law libraries, and support staff. You have a four- to six-inch screen and a cement room.
Find lawyers who fight. The difference between a lawyer who genuinely advocates for you and one who merely processes your case through the system is the difference between hope and slow-motion burial. My public defenders were incompetent about what mattered most in my case—ballistics—and, albeit committed, rebuffed the District Attorney's attempts to manipulate the appellate process. But I also encountered legal professionals who were responsive only when paid and silent otherwise. Ask other inmates for recommendations. They know who is effective and who is not.
Beware of plea bargains that require confessing to crimes you did not commit. Be wary of lawyers who counsel you to accept guilt for crimes you did not commit. One inmate I knew was pressured into a plea bargain in which he would confess to a child abuse charge he was innocent of, in order to guarantee no jail time. “It is just the nature of a bad and unjust system,” he remarked. He took the deal and went to home arrest, evermore stained as an abuser. The temptation to accept such a deal is enormous—especially when your lawyer tells you that fighting the charges will mean years more behind bars. But confessing to a crime you did not commit is bearing false witness at worst and pragmatism at best, and the practical consequences—a permanent criminal record, sex offender registration, destroyed reputation—may be worse than the imprisonment you sought to avoid.
Document everything. Keep copies of every legal filing, every correspondence with your lawyer, and every piece of evidence relevant to your case. In prison, documents are easily lost, stolen, or destroyed. My wife and I spent considerable time scrutinizing comments by opposing lawyers, the prosecutor, and alleged victims, finding many inconsistencies and outright lies. This work was essential to our legal strategy, and it could not have been done without meticulous documentation.
Leverage outside support. The imprisoned man cannot effectively conduct his own public advocacy. He needs people on the outside who can research, organize, communicate, and apply pressure. My friend Pablo Morales created tweets and videos proving that I was neither a racist nor a white supremacist—two outrageous lies widely circulated in the media. He raised money for legal fees and coordinated with supporters. This kind of external advocacy is invaluable and often makes the difference between a case that languishes in institutional obscurity and one that receives the attention it deserves.
Maintaining Faith in God’s Justice When Human Justice Fails
Here is the hardest lesson I learned in five years, five months behind bars: God’s justice and human justice operate on different timetables and according to different standards. Human justice is supposed to be based on evidence, law, and the impartial evaluation of facts. In practice, it is often based on politics, prejudice, ideology, corruption, and institutional convenience. The system that convicted me was not interested in truth. It was interested in a guilty verdict. And it got one. It was little better than a lynch mob.
God’s justice is perfect, comprehensive, and eternal. It misses nothing. It is swayed by nothing. It will be executed with precision and finality at the appointed time. “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord” (Romans 12:19). This promise is not a platitude. It is a prophecy. Every corrupt prosecutor, every biased judge, every false witness will stand before the God who sees all things and judges all things—and on that day, the verdicts of the earthly courts will be reversed, corrected, or confirmed by the only Judge whose opinion matters. Help the inmates you visit to pray for their enemies’ salvation and should not be willing to save them (Matthew 5:44), for their damnation following the imprecatory prayer examples we have in Psalms 10:15; 17:13-14; 55:15; 58:6; 68:2; 69:22; 83:9-17; 109:6-20, 29; 137:7-9; 1 Corinthians 16:22; Galatians 5:12; 2 Timothy 4:14; and Revelation 6:9-10. Those will give an unjustly imprisoned person a godly perspective and hope for just retribution.
But between now and that day, the wrongfully convicted man must live in the tension between what he knows (God is just) and what he experiences (the system is not). This tension is not resolved by pretending it does not exist. It is not resolved by emotional appeals to “just trust God.” It is resolved—to the extent it can be resolved this side of eternity—by the doctrine of Providence and by our commitment to God’s truth.
God is not merely aware of your wrongful conviction. He ordained it. Not because He approves of injustice—He does not—but because He has purposes for your suffering that exceed your ability to comprehend. Jeremiah’s, Daniel’s, and Joseph’s wrongful convictions and imprisonment were the means by which God positioned them to help a nation. Your wrongful conviction may serve purposes that you will not understand for years, decades, or until eternity reveals them.
This is the faith of Habakkuk, who cried out to God against injustice and received the answer that tested his faith to its breaking point: “The just shall live by his faith” (Habakkuk 2:4). Not by his understanding. Not by his comfort. Not by the outcome of his appeal. By his faith—his stubborn, agonizing, tears-soaked trust in a God who does not explain Himself but who is never wrong.
Action Steps
If you are wrongfully convicted, document everything. Write your version of events in detail while the memories are fresh. Collect and organize all evidence. This documentation will be essential for appeals, for public advocacy, and for your own psychological survival.
Find or create a support network outside the prison walls. You need people who will advocate for you—legally, publicly, and financially. Do not try to fight the system alone from inside a cell. Any seasoned prisoner knows this would be impossible. They depend entirely on others to work on their behalf.
Read the stories of other wrongfully convicted persons, both in Scripture and in history. Joseph, Jeremiah, Daniel, John the Baptist, Peter, James, Paul, John Bunyan, Adoniram Judson—these men walked the same road you are walking. Their stories will sustain you.
If you are a church leader, do not assume that every person in prison is guilty. Investigate the cases of incarcerated members. Advocate for those who have been wrongfully convicted. Use the church’s resources and influence to support their legal defense.
Memorize Habakkuk 2:4 and Romans 12:19. These verses will be the twin pillars of your faith during the darkest seasons of legal injustice: live by faith, and leave vengeance to God.
Discussion Questions
How should the church respond when a member claims to be wrongfully convicted? What is the appropriate balance between believing the person and maintaining objectivity?
Read Romans 12:19. How does the promise of divine vengeance affect the wrongfully convicted person’s posture toward the system that condemned him? Is it possible to pursue justice through legal channels while simultaneously trusting God’s ultimate vindication?
What role should the church play in criminal justice advocacy? Is it appropriate for churches to engage in public campaigns on behalf of incarcerated members?
How does the experience of wrongful conviction test the doctrine of God’s sovereignty? In what ways does this test actually strengthen faith for those who endure it?
How should those imprisoned unjustly pray for their enemies, considering “the whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27)?