“I want you to go to prison,” said Bishop William Wright, former Bishop of the Diocese of Maitland-Newcastle.

Gerard quipped that he had spent his life trying to stay out of prison, but the Bishop’s laughter and resolve made it clear: this was no request.

This calling, though unexpected, has since defined Gerard’s life and ministry as a Prison Chaplain at the Catholic Diocese of Maitland-Newcastle.

Deacon McCarthy considers his role an honour and “exactly what Jesus would want.”

But this privilege is not without its challenges. Prison chaplains must tread carefully, balancing the need to offer spiritual guidance without forcing it. This unsung ministry brings light to one of society's darkest corners.

“It’s a very privileged ministry,” Gerard acknowledges, “but it’s not for everyone.”

Those who answer this call must be patient, resilient, and unwavering in their belief in the potential for human transformation.

“We're not there to fix people,” he explained.

“We’re here to listen and to journey with them in their faith.”

The role carries much weight but focuses on building relationships and listening to those who often go unheard.

“The most important part is to listen, and to train yourself to shut your mouth,” Gerard emphasised.

“We’re there to provide support and understanding. This must sit separate from delving into the crimes people have committed. We can’t absolve them of their sins. That’s between them and God.”

In an environment where inmates are often spoken at or dismissed, attentive listening builds trust and creates a safe space for transformation. Through these interactions, chaplains offer prisoners a rare opportunity to reflect on their lives and connect with something greater than themselves.

Prison chaplains step into a world where the people they serve are often those society has written off as irredeemable. Gerard, however, sees things differently.

“We’re all sinners. We all struggle with life; some people are dealt a hard hand. It’s not too hard to go to prison,” he said.  

Gerard points out that many inmates come from good families but end up in prison due to falling in with the wrong crowd or unfortunate circumstances. Others carry the weight of trauma and pain that shaped their paths.

“Sometimes we make bad choices in our life. We’ve all done that,” he said.

At the heart of Gerard’s ministry is a recognition of shared humanity, despite what actions led these people to be incarcerated.  

“I am not saying I agree with what people have done. But everyone deserves mercy, compassion, and forgiveness. There are huge needs and pain with people in those situations,” he said.

“If God has given me the grace and forgiveness for how I behaved in my past,” he reflects, “then everyone I come across deserves that same privilege.”

In his experience, Gerard believes that faith can play a pivotal role in rehabilitation.

“When someone makes a decision for Christ and takes their faith seriously, they improve tenfold.”

He recalls one inmate who described his newfound faith as a counterbalance to his past impulses.

“I feel like, for the first time in my life, I know right from wrong,” the man told him.

“In the past, something was sitting on my shoulder saying, ‘Do it, do it, do it.’

“But now there’s something that counteracts that and says don’t.”

Gerard attributes this change to the work of the Holy Spirit, which he views as a powerful force for transformation in people’s lives.

“Knowing what he's in for and how I've seen him change is amazing. He only receives Holy Communion on the tongue,” he said.

“He will not put his hand out because of his crime. Can you tell me that's not powerful?”

Many inmates who engage with chapel services and embrace their spirituality never return to prison. The chapel becomes a sanctuary for those who remain – a place where the prisoners can learn, reflect, and grow.

“Inside prison, it can be hell on earth; it’s awful. For those who convert or explore their spirituality, their faith becomes a source of strength and resilience, helping them navigate the daily challenges of incarceration,” Gerard said.

Being a chaplain is not for everyone, yet the rewards can be profound for those called to it. Gerard also describes the happiness of witnessing conversions, the gratitude of inmates, and the knowledge that his work makes a difference.

“The majority change in different ways,” he explained, “but spirituality is a great catalyst for that change.

“I could give you 100 positive stories. God blesses them with mercy, and we have incredible conversion. The prisoners not only get it, but they also empower others, which creates ripples of hope and change. That gives me such great joy.”

Over the years, Gerard has seen significant shifts in those prisoners who embrace faith. Many inmates, he recounts, have been baptised, discovered their spirituality, and taken steps to live out their faith within the confines of prison life.

The results are often remarkable. Gerard recounts the story of one inmate who experienced a spiritual awakening during his sentence.

“We've got a guy. He's coming to service often; he's done a long sentence. The light’s gone on, God’s touched him,” he said.

“This man not only embraced his faith but became a leader within the prison community, leading Bible study group on a Sunday and inspiring others to explore their spirituality.”

So, whilst only some prisoners become a beacon of hope, such conversions are not isolated incidents.

In his fourteen years as a chaplain, Gerard estimates he has baptised 28 men and supported hundreds of others on their spiritual journeys. The transformations he has witnessed are often life-changing, both for the individuals involved and their families.

“The significant change in most is not believable. The majority of them, their family thinks they’re crazy at the beginning. They think, ‘You’ve become a Jesus freak.’ But the change is incredible, which is why I continue. I want to do it for as long as I can,” he said.

The role of a chaplain is undoubtedly an interesting one. When asked whether it has taught him anything, Gerard says the experience has made him a different man.

“I have learnt about forgiveness and how to forgive because many people have used me in the system. And you can get angry, and you can feel dejected.”

Gerard admits that in his work journeying with prisoners, not every story has a happy ending. He speaks of inmates who, despite experiencing conversion, have fallen back into old patterns.

“I had one recently that is too fresh for me to talk about. He had an amazing conversion story, and I journeyed with him on the outside, too,” Gerard said.

“But things started not going too well, and I gave him some strong advice, which he didn't adhere to. Now he is back in prison.

“The last message I got through the system was, ‘Please tell the chaplain, I'm so sorry.’”

While such setbacks are painful, Gerard remains steadfast in his belief in the potential for change in everyone and acknowledges that his role is to plant seeds of hope and redemption.

 “At the end of the day, people have the freedom to live their life,” he said.

“But I am here to support them, and I know that when someone truly discovers their faith, it makes a difference.”

Gerard admits that there are days when the emotional weight of the ministry is overwhelming. To cope, his wife has collated a folder of letters and notes Gerard has received from inmates so he can reflect on them when things get hard.

“When I get really down, I just read them and think, ‘That’s why I’m going in today.’

“It is not a job but a sacred calling. I honestly could have gone to prison, and I had a major conversion where God forgave me. I have my own conversion story.

“God placed something in my heart to always reach out to those who have been on the battlefield. I remind myself of that on the hard days,” he said.  When Gerard runs his chapel services, he preaches the word of God to inspire and motivate people's thinking.

“You can sense the room. The spirit's working. I don't know how the heck God chose me to do this. It's an incredible ministry,” he said in awe.

In his discussions, Gerard challenges inmates to take small but meaningful steps toward a new way of life.

“Now that you've got the God thing, and you've been baptised, now try and live it out in your dormitory on a daily basis,” he encourages.

Chaplaincy in prisons is not about creating swift change or fixing people; it is about building relationships, cultivating trust, and reflecting Christlike love in one of society's most challenging environments.

To fulfil his role, Gerard highlights the importance of prayer and the strong backing of the diocese, particularly for married deacons like himself who bring unique life experiences to their ministry that he believes people can relate to.

“My work is about connecting and being honest. This is about me being a man in their life they can trust. And for some, a father figure,” he said.

“I am never slow to share my stories. They think, ‘This guy isn’t full of crap.’ He's not a theologian, and sometimes I talk rough, you’ve got to, and so they listen because I’ve had those problems too.”

Gerard’s willingness to be vulnerable – to acknowledge his imperfections and share his struggles – resonates with inmates.

“Unlike priests, deacons have families and personal histories,” he explained.

“When we’re working for God, and we’ve had families, the relationships, the teenage kids, and the problems in everyday life. People engage because we understand.”

“I believe that having married men in ministry is an essential part of the church's future. Our role is unique and valuable. People listen because we use life stories.

“I'm not perfect. I'll never be perfect, but that's the key. That is how the prisoners relate to me,” he said.

Gerard’s work is a living testament to the idea that no one is beyond redemption.

Chaplaincy to our prisons, hospitals, seafarers, and the university are an important work of Mission & Evangelisation in the Catholic Diocese of Maitland-Newcastle.

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