Roy Ratcliff - Dark Journey Deep Grace: Jeffrey Dahmers Story of Faith

Lionel and Shari Dahmer requested a ten-minute private
meeting with their son before he was led away. Dahmer was
straightway taken to the Correctional Institute at Portage in upstate
Wisconsin, where the following day the director received
nearly two hundred enquiries from authors and mental health
experts wishing to interview him.

BRIAN MASTERS

THE SHRINE OF JEFFREY DAHMER, 1993

ON April 6, 1994, a phone call changed my life. There was nothing unusual or specialabout that day that would indicate something life-changing was going to happen. Itwas a day like so many others.

Around suppertime the call came. It was a good friend, Rob McRay, a preacher in Milwaukee.It was unusual for him to be calling me at suppertime on a Wednesday night becauseboth of our churches have a Wednesday night service. We are usually getting readyfor those responsibilities.

But this call was something quite out of the norm.

As a minister, I am accustomed to receiving phone calls at all times of the day andnight. It is a defining part of the ministry of serving people. Most of the timethese calls are from people who are hurting and just need someone to listen to theirstory as they pour their hearts out. Such interruptions are the price of being ina noble profession.

Rob had just talked with a minister in Oklahoma active in prison work, Curtis Booth,who was in contact with a prisoner here in Wisconsin who wanted to become a Christian.The prison is in Portage, Wisconsin, about 40 miles north of Madison where I live.Rob was leaving for a conference in Chicago and knew I lived closer to the prisonthan he did, so he was calling to ask me to follow up. I had never done prison work,but I was willing to do what I could.

As a minister, I had given my life to God, which meant going wherever whenever heneeded me. Like most ministers, I relate to the Old Testament story of Moses encounteringthe burning bush. The burning bush was a sign to Moses that God was calling him tolead the Israelites. Moses could not escape the call of the I AM THAT I AM. Ministersdont always know what God intends for them until they are called.

So I told Rob, Sure, Ill look into it. What is the prisoners name?

Rob asked if I were sitting down, which piqued my curiosity. Im not sure if thisis a hoax, he said, because April 1st was only a few days ago. This is a littleunbelievable.

He paused, then said, The prisoners name is Jeffrey Dahmer.

Rob, did you say, Jeffrey Dahmer? I asked.

Thats right.

Rob had lived in Milwaukee during Jeffrey Dahmers trial, hearing all the horribledetails of his crimes. I think Rob was glad to hand the task over to me. It was alittle too personal for him to handle.

He continued, I tried to call the chaplain at the Columbia Correctional Institutionto verify the story, but he had already left. Im leaving for my conference, andI simply cannot follow through on this. Would you call to see if the request is true,and if so, follow up on it?

Questions multiplied in my mind. What would my family think? Id been married for25 years to my lovely wife, Susan, and in all that time, Id never exposed her toanything harmful. My children were grown. Would they take this matter seriously,or would they make jokes or laugh about it? Would they encourage or discourage me?What would my congregation think? I had only served them for four years, and I stilldidnt know them all well. Would they be honored or ashamed? Most importantly, isDahmer sincere? Could he have a hidden motive?

Finally, I answered. Yes, Ill call the chaplain tomorrow. If Dahmer really wantsto be baptized, Ill make the arrangements. We said our goodbyes, and I hung up.

I put the phone down, turned, and told Susan and my daughter, who was with us, Yourenot going to believe this. I was just asked to baptize Jeffrey Dahmer. They werestunned for a moment, but quickly recovered. It wasnt long before we began to jokearound about this strange happening that came so out of the blue. We couldnt imaginethe immense impact this would have on our lives.

At church that night, I told my congregation what had happened. I asked for theirprayers. I said I didnt know if the story was accurate, but, yes, I had receiveda call asking me to baptize a prisoner in Portage, Wis., and that prisoner was JeffreyDahmer. The eyes of some grew wide with astonishment. Some were speechless. A fewcame to me later and said they would pray for me.

How do you relax after a request like this one? Predictably, I had trouble gettingto sleep that night. Questions floated across my mind. Was the prisoner really JeffreyDahmer? Did he really want to be a Christian? What would he know, or want to know,about baptism? What kind of a person is he? Was this a cruel joke? Andmost importantlywhyme?

I knew all these issues would seem clearer in the morning, but I knew what I hadto do first. I had to confirm the truth of the request. I also decided to contacta minister closer to the prison than I was about baptizing Dahmer. Finally, I fellinto a fitful sleep.

The next morning I was anxious to take action. Since the prison chaplain would probablynot be available until after 9 a.m., I tried to busy myself with other things. Regardless,the questions and thoughts that plagued me during the night kept coming back.

Why did Jeffrey Dahmer want to be baptized? What did he know or understand aboutbaptism? My religious body, the Church of Christ, baptizes by immersion. What problemswould this pose in a prison?

The time came to call the prison chaplain, and I nervously dialed the number Robhad given me. When a guard answered, I asked for the chaplains line. I had rehearsedmy introduction before making the call, and I hoped my nervousness wouldnt keepme from being coherent.