Wheaton man helps ex-cons readjust to the outside
Danny Aguilar's path to becoming a student with a full scholarship to Wheaton College began more than two years ago in the unlikeliest of places: Cook County Jail.
Aguilar was serving a five-month sentence for retail theft when he rediscovered his Christian faith.
“I never knew that God was all I needed until God was all I had,” the 27-year-old recalls.
As an inmate, Aguilar came across an informational packet about Koinonia House, a Wheaton-based residential ministry that helps male ex-convicts who have embraced Christianity integrate into society “through biblical discipleship.”
Aguilar applied to join the 15-month program and was accepted five days before his release from jail. He says Koinonia House provided the environment he needed to free himself from years of drug addiction and to get his life back on track.
The post-prison ministry that has helped Aguilar and dozens of others like him had to overcome obstacles of its own to open two decades ago on a quiet Wheaton street. Through it all, founders Manny and Barbara Mill were committed to making Koinonia House a reality.
A different calling
Manny Mill, an ex-convict turned Wheaton College graduate, knew what he wanted to do once he became an ordained minister: He was going to be a federal prison chaplain.
Someone else had another plan for him.
“God just kept bringing all these people across our path who had just gotten out of prison and needed our help,” Barbara Mill said. “We realized there is a huge need.”
Manny Mill, who served a 22-month sentence in a federal prison for cashing stolen checks, never forgot the members of a local church who helped him transition from former inmate to college student. He decided to devote his life to helping “Christian neighbors” recently released from prison.
“The prison chaplaincy would be ministry,” Barbara Mill said. “But this other need became so urgent.”
The Mills quote a sobering statistic. Nationwide, they say, an estimated 70 percent of men return to prison within three years of release.
Manny Mill says the prison system itself is to blame for that recidivism rate.
“When a guy gets out of prison, they give him the little box of stuff that he had, one set of clothing and $10,” he said. “Then they tell him, ‘We'll see you later.' And they do.”
Even inmates who convert to Christianity have a difficult time adjusting when they're released.
“It's like they come back to the devil,” Manny Mill said. “Post-prison ministry is the most neglected ministry of the church in America.”
The goal of Koinonia House is to give ex-convicts the foundation they need to successfully transition from prison life to life outside the iron bars.
At first, that mission proved challenging for a reason the Mills never anticipated.
Uphill battle
When the couple opened the home in 1991, the concept wasn't embraced by neighbors and the Wheaton City Council. Even some churches objected to having former prisoners in the neighborhood.
“They didn't want these guys to live here,” Manny Mill said.
Barbara Mill said that was disappointing because the location is key to what they are trying to accomplish.
“How can you get the guys back into a neighborhood if you're sticking them in the middle of an industrial park?” she said.
The Mills eventually sued the city in federal court. That lawsuit was settled in 1994 and allowed the house to stay open.
Koinonia House has since become a model for similar homes to open around the county.
While not every ex-offender who comes to Koinonia House completes its 15-month program, 80 percent of those who do have never returned to prison.
“We want to educate people that these guys coming out of prison are people, too,” Manny Mill said.
Key to success
For the first decade, the Mills lived in the house with their two boys. George and Nina Salter and their two daughters call it their home now.
As resident directors, George Salter and his wife help Koinonia residents “by providing a family home-based ministry model of biblical discipleship and mentorship.”
Koinonia doesn't accept residents who have been convicted of murder, arson or sexual offenses. Those who are admitted into the program are paired with a church that provides spiritual and financial mentors. Each resident also attends worship services at his sponsoring church.
George Salter said the churches are an integral part of the program.
“We provide a biblical model for the home,” Salter said. “But the church partners with the home to do all the others things that the body of Christ needs to do.”
Kevin Engel, the missions pastor at Jericho Road Church, said the Wheaton church sponsored a recent graduate from the Koinonia program. He said it was a positive experience.
“We believe God is a God of second, third and fourth chances,” Engel said. “These are men who really want another chance to turn their life around.
“This is exactly what people of God need to be doing,” he added, “welcoming men as they come out of prison to help them make a new start.”
‘The real deal'
Aguilar, who graduated from Koinonia House in 2009, said the relationships he formed while he was there made a difference in his life.
“I genuinely felt love from the people in that house,” he said. “It felt like a home. It didn't feel like a program. I felt like these were people who really cared about me. We prayed together. We ate together. And built a strong bond.”
After doing well academically at College of DuPage, Aguilar was awarded the Chuck Colson Scholarship at Wheaton College. It was the same scholarship for ex-convicts that Manny Mill received when he attended the school.
Aguilar, a sociology and communications major, says he's impressed by what Manny and Barbara Mill have done for others.
“When I hear that they opened their home with their children to a bunch of guys coming out of jail,” he said, “they are the real deal. They are people trying to be like Jesus.”
Manny Mill says his ultimate goal is to get thousands of churches nationwide to each agree to help one newly released prisoner a year. In the many years he's been trying to get churches onboard, he admits only “a few” have signed up.
“This is discouraging,” he said. “If I didn't know that God called me to this, I would have quit a long time ago.”