Indeed, I came to see that one of God’s sovereign purposes in sending unsaved men to prison was precisely this: to place them in an environment where they would encounter the Gospel. The same God who orchestrated Joseph’s journey to Potiphar’s prison orchestrates the transfer papers, the court orders, and the módulo assignments that place a convicted drug trafficker in the same yard as a Reformed Baptist pastor. “The king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord, as the rivers of water: he turneth it whithersoever he will” (Proverbs 21:1). If God directs the hearts of kings, He surely directs the judicial machinery that fills the cells of every penitentiary on earth.

The Confusion and Its Consequences

These two tracks—solidarity with the brethren and evangelism of the lost—are both commanded by Scripture. They are both essential. They are both urgent. But they are not the same thing, and when the church treats them as interchangeable, both suffer.

The most common error is to collapse Track One into Track Two. That is, the church subsumes the duty of remembering afflicted Christian brothers under the general heading of “evangelistic outreach” and proceeds to treat every prison-related text as a proof-text for missions. Matthew 25:36—“I was in prison, and ye came unto me”—becomes a slogan for evangelistic campaigns rather than a command to visit suffering saints. Hebrews 13:3 is read as a call to send missionaries into prisons rather than a call to remember brothers who are already there. Paul’s “Remember my bonds” is quoted in fundraising appeals for prison evangelism programs rather than heeded as a personal plea from a suffering apostle. Yet, men will be sent to hell on Judgment Day for not caring for Christian prisoners within their reach. That is what the word of God says in Matthew 25:46. The same cannot be said for neglecting to evangelize prisoners.

Why did Jesus make such a big deal over neglecting Christians in prison, and why is conflating the command to do so with evangelism deleterious? The practical consequence is devastating: Christian prisoners are abandoned. The church organizes an evangelism team, visits the prison once a month to hold a service, distributes some literature, prays with a few inmates, and goes home satisfied that it has fulfilled its obligation to “the least of these.” Meanwhile, the Christian brother—the man who shares the church’s faith, who holds to the same Gospel, who often suffers not because of his crimes but because of his obedience to one or more principles of God’s word—receives no sustenance, no visit, no letter, no phone call, no money for biblically licit contraband, basic supplies, or requisite bribes, no legal assistance, no familial encouragement. He is overlooked because the church has only one category for prison ministry: evangelism.

Moreover, when every prison text is hurried into evangelistic slogans, the church loses the ability to distinguish between the guilty criminal who needs the Gospel and the suffering saint who needs the body of Christ. It denies Christian prisoners the “meat” of the word by forcing them to take only the “milk” of it (1 Corinthians 3:1-2; Hebrews 5:12-14). These are different needs requiring different responses. The drug trafficker who has never heard the Gospel needs a preacher offering salvation. The wrongfully convicted Christian who has been abandoned by his church needs a brother. He may also need a teacher for deeper exhortation and discipleship—but at a level beyond evangelistic preaching, not in place of brotherly support. But when a brother is needed, preaching alone is not merely insufficient—it is a failure of love. And to send a brother when a preacher is needed is a failure of mission. The church must learn to do both and to do each appropriately.

The reverse error—collapsing Track Two into Track One—is rarer but equally damaging. Some Christians, particularly those influenced by the social gospel tradition, reduce prison ministry to humanitarian aid and advocacy while neglecting the proclamation of the Gospel to the unconverted. They visit, they supply, they advocate for reform, they write letters to legislators—but they do not preach Christ crucified to sinners who are perishing in their sins. This is a betrayal of the Great Commission, regardless of how many practical needs it addresses. The man who receives food and clothing but never hears the Gospel has been helped temporally and abandoned eternally.

The Theological Foundation: Why Both Tracks Are Non-Negotiable

The dual mandate is grounded in the nature of the church itself. The church is both a covenant community and a missionary enterprise. It exists to nurture its members and to evangelize the world. These two functions correspond precisely to the two tracks of prison ministry.

The 1689 London Baptist Confession affirms that the members of the visible church are “saints by calling, visibly manifesting and evidencing (in and by their profession and walking) their obedience unto that call of Christ” (Chapter 26, Paragraph 6). The church’s duty toward these members—including those who are incarcerated—is fellowship, mutual care, discipline, and encouragement. This is Track One.

The same confession affirms the church’s calling-and-gathering ministry through the Word (Chapter 26, Paragraph 5) and the perpetuation of the Great-Commission ordinances of baptism and the Lord's Supper (Chapter 28, Paragraph 1). This is Track Two.

Neither duty cancels the other. Neither duty substitutes for the other. Neither duty excuses neglect of the other. The church that evangelizes prisoners but abandons its own incarcerated members has failed in its covenantal obligations. The church that remembers its incarcerated members but neglects the unsaved prisoners around them has failed in its missionary obligations. The faithful church does both—distinguishing between them clearly, pursuing both diligently, and refusing to allow the urgency of one to eclipse the necessity of the other.

Paul’s Bonds: A Case Study in Dual Ministry

Paul himself modeled both tracks simultaneously. From prison, he evangelized—converting Onesimus (Philemon 10), preaching Christ to the Praetorian Guard (Philippians 1:13), and writing letters that would bring the Gospel to millions across subsequent centuries. That was Track Two.

But Paul also received Track One ministry from the churches. Epaphroditus traveled from Philippi to Rome to bring him financial support (Philippians 4:18). Onesiphorus “oft refreshed” Paul and “was not ashamed of my chain” (2 Timothy 1:16). Timothy served as Paul’s emissary, carrying messages and encouragement between the apostle and the churches. Luke remained with Paul when others had deserted him (2 Timothy 4:11). These were not evangelistic contacts. These were acts of solidarity, sustenance, and love directed toward a suffering brother—acts that Paul explicitly requested (“Remember my bonds”) and for which he expressed heartfelt gratitude.

The churches that supported Paul did not confuse their evangelistic mission with their duty of care toward the apostle. They did both. And the church today must do the same for every Christian who wears chains—whether those chains are the result of unjust prosecution, political persecution, or the simple providence of a God who sometimes allows His people to suffer for reasons that will only be fully disclosed in eternity.

Matthew 25 Rightly Divided

A word must be said about Matthew 25:31-46, because this passage is perhaps the most frequently cited—and most frequently misapplied—text in discussions of prison ministry. “I was in prison, and ye came unto me” (v. 36). Who is speaking? Christ. To whom does He refer? “These my brethren” (v. 40)—that is, His people, His church, His elect. The “least of these my brethren” are not humanity in general; they are Christians in particular. The sheep are commended for their ministry to Christ’s own, and the goats are condemned for their neglect of the same.

This does not mean that Matthew 25 has no subtle or indirect application to the unsaved prisoner. The passage establishes a principle of compassionate engagement with the suffering that certainly extends, by analogy, to all who are hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, and imprisoned. But its primary referent is the suffering believer—the brother in chains, the sister in affliction, the saint who hungers and thirsts in the name of Christ. But, again, men will not be sent to hell for failing to provide for the physical needs of unbelievers in prison, whereas they will be for willfully neglecting believers in prison. That verdict does not distinguish between sins of commission and sins of omission. It condemns the omission as though it were a direct affront to the King. When churches quote Matthew 25:36 exclusively as a proof-text for evangelistic prison campaigns, they have inverted the passage’s own emphasis. Jesus is not primarily commanding evangelism here; He is primarily commanding solidarity with His suffering people. Evangelism is commanded elsewhere—powerfully and repeatedly. But in Matthew 25, the Lord of glory identifies Himself with the afflicted believer and declares that what is done to that believer is done to Him.