When Chris Leighton invited me to engage in a Genesis con-versation with inmates at Jessup Prison, it sounded very much like the "right" thing to do. I confess that I was excited about the idea of attempting to replicate the success of the Genesis congregational project behind prison walls.

When I sat down with Chris and Rabbi Joel Zaiman, however, to discuss just what we wanted to do and how we would do it, the challenges grew more daunting. There were only two things we could assume: 1) that the inmates would be present at the six sessions we were leading, and 2) that the Genesis stories would evoke questions, if not answers.

Our sense of anxiety was further intensified by our orientation session at the prison. After being debriefed on all of the necessary safety measures and the wide range of potentially difficult situations, our apprehensions multiplied. It was not just the possibility that our lives might be in danger; it was also the idea of wanting to make a positive difference, and having little or no idea what contribution we could possibly make.

For six consecutive Thursday afternoons we found ourselves engaged with twelve to fifteen inmates, of various faiths, who were neither shy nor reserved about exploring the stories in the text. Their insights were impressive, and we knew early in this venture that we could not come to these encounters unprepared.

At the end of the six-week period, the inmates indicated that they had learned some new ways of looking at these stories. Their most profound comments, however, addressed the powerful changes among themselves. They described the emergence of a community of trust in an atmosphere where you trust no one and seldom if ever speak to anyone. They articulated a sense of belonging to something special, to something that could possibly make a difference in that environment. They spoke of a desire to continue the con-versations that had begun. They expressed genuine gratitude for our taking the time to share in this unique encounter.

As I reflected on our efforts, I became aware of the very same revelation that arose when the Genesis congregational project ended. The learning had gone beyond the stories in Genesis to a discovery about our common humanity -- a humanity that may have been masked by prison walls and bars, but was nonetheless present There was and there remains something very powerful about sitting down with persons of other faiths and sharing our common stories. At some point we discover that all of us embody the stories; we discover pieces of ourselves and pieces of others. If ever there was a powerful statement about the possibility for reconciliation, this is it.

I must add to all of this that new friendships were formed as Chris, Joel, and I made our weekly journey to that prison to talk with inmates about sacred stories that revealed reflec-tions of ourselves. In a society where religion is regarded as divisive, talking about our common faith stories became a sure way to dismantle the walls and bridge the gaps that have for so long separated us and kept us from knowing that we all are the "sons and daughters of the Most High God."