Trusting faith: Women’s halfway house operator hopes federal legislation helps her cause

Stacy J. Willis

Wednesday, June 27, 2001 | 11:10 a.m.

Audrey Owens isn't waiting for Congress. She's going ahead with the plan: preaching Jesus to former criminals, sheltering them in a small house in Las Vegas, taking from her own pocket when program funding is short.

Owens operates Second Chance Mission, a transitional housing program that shepherds female ex-cons and drug addicts back into society by immersing them in Biblical teachings. The women are not allowed to smoke, drink, have sexual relationships or even leave the house without her permission.

And although she isn't big on politics, Owens is keeping an eye on the Bush "faith-based initiative" as it sparks debate nationwide.

The bill, which would make social services funding more available to religious groups, is on its way to the House floor. Owens -- called "Mother" by her more than 200 former clients -- hopes it passes.

Second Chance's expenses for May totaled $2,112 -- covering six women's rent, food, clothing, toiletries and spiritual counseling programs. The women are asked to pay a minimal monthly amount to help cover the bills.

"But I do end up paying for some of this myself," Owens, 60, said. "I do need help with it, and I looked into getting government funding. But I'm not willing to take Jesus out of my program."

The Bush plan -- which, depending on legislative compromises, would allow programs like Owens' to apply for grants -- has been criticized by those who fear it would challenge the First Amendment right to freedom from a state-endorsed religion.

"Faith-based organizations do provide many valuable services in our community, no question. But our concern is that they not get confounded with government," Allen Lichtenstein, ACLU attorney in Las Vegas, said. "The Bush plan would blur the lines of demarcation between secular activities and religious activities performed by a religious organization."

Americans United for Separation of Church and State, a nonprofit advocacy group based in Washington, D.C., objects to the Bush plan for a number of reasons.

The bill would allow religious groups to sue the government for damages if they were denied grants. It also would allow groups to discriminate based on religion in the hiring process -- and maybe even allow employers to require that employees adhere to certain religious practices -- a provision that could target gays and women.

"The Bush plan allows publicly funded religious discrimination, could force religion on families in need and threatens to entangle our house of worship with government," the Rev. Barry Lynn, executive director of Americans United, said in a statement this week.

But none of these concerns matters to Owens. Her program, which started as a prison prayer ministry more than a decade ago, teaches criminals and drug abusers that Jesus is the only way out of a life of hardship.

"They (the government) ought to see by now that secular programs don't work. They are spending millions, and the prison door is still revolving. At some point, they ought to realize it's not working," Owens, a former substance abuser, said. "The only person that can deliver you is Jesus," she said.

On this day, Owens -- dressed in a bright green suit with a gold broach -- is counseling a former heroin addict who has been in and out of prison a half dozen times. They sit in the tiny Second Chance living room under a sign that reads, "Seek deliverance from crack, heroin/horse, alcohol, prostitution, thefts/burglary, domestic abuse. God frees us all."

The ex-prisoner, who asked that her name be withheld, is one of six staying at the house and is trying to learn to become a responsible citizen. More than 200 women have stayed in one of these three bedrooms, gotten clothing from Owens' closet full of donated clothes and prayed in the house chapel. Most stay about four months.

"I'm 46. I've been a heroin addict since I was 17. I've been in jail a lot of my life," says the woman being counseled. "I've been charged with grand larceny, burglary, forgery and prostitution. But I'm not a bad person. I want help.

"My friend said, 'Mother Owens can help you.' I've always believed in God, but I'm a heroin addict."

Owens interjects: "No you're not. You were a heroin addict. But that's all behind you. Talk to the Lord. He will set you free, but you have to talk to him, you have to trust him."

Most of the women Owens accepts as clients have had a drug problem -- nine of 10, she says. Most come directly from jail to her house -- provided they are Christian and agree to the strict living conditions. When they leave jail, they qualify for $277 per month in government assistance if they show proof that they have applied for 10 jobs.

"It's very rewarding when they turn their life around. It's very rewarding when they leave and go to their own apartment," Owens said. "But, of course, some that come don't make it, and that's hard."

She does not accept people whose Christian devotion she doubts.

Lichtenstein said her program and those steeped in one religion of any kind "are not what tax dollars were meant for" even if they do provide a viable social service.

"For those who accept the religious teaching, it may work, and no one should discount that power of prayer in social work," he said. "But that's not the proper role of government."

Owens shakes her head at that philosophy.

"I've been around the block," Owens said. "I know what will work for these women. So many of them have been abused and come from very sad situations. They have never known unconditional love.

"But if they love God, they have a chance. My program is based on that, on the Bible, and I'm not interested in changing it."