NEWTON, Iowa — At exactly 3 p.m., nearly 200 inmates crowd into a prison classroom and wait for one to give a signal. "This is my Bible!" the men roar, each holding the book aloft. "A light unto my feet!" A moment later, they are reading verses projected on the wall: "As the deer panteth for the water, so my soul longeth after thee."
What makes this event distinctive is not its location, in a medium-security prison 30 miles east of Des Moines, but that it is a central feature of a religion-based program that would seem likely to interest the Bush administration, which has made a priority of pushing for collaboration between government and religious organizations.
The program here, the InnerChange Freedom Initiative, illustrates both the promise and the challenges of such efforts. It works under contract with the state to rehabilitate felons, and inmates say they have been changed. But it is an open question whether the program could qualify for federal financing, given the religious message at its core.
For the visitor, InnerChange's work presents a striking sight, even if the program's ultimate results are a long way from being known. Unit E, one of five free-standing cell blocks at the prison here, is given over to inmates participating in InnerChange, and it exudes an almost monastic atmosphere.
Men in prison-issued blue jeans tote Bibles around neatly kept Unit E. They say grace at meals and wear cloth bracelets inscribed with the initials W.W.J.D. (for What Would Jesus Do?).
"This is special forces training for God," said Ron Gruber, who is serving a sentence for second-degree murder.
Mr. Gruber and 191 others in the program have volunteered to participate.
"You don't have to be a Christian to come in," said Samuel Dye, InnerChange's director in Iowa.
But those approved by InnerChange and the state corrections officials to join the program, Mr. Dye said, must follow its curriculum, which includes daily Bible sessions, homework and evenings with volunteers from nearby churches. In addition, inmates waive their rights to all television and sexually explicit materials.
InnerChange began in a Texas prison in 1997, a project of Prison Fellowship Ministries, an organization founded by Charles W. Colson, a Nixon aide who served a prison term after being convicted in the Watergate cover-up. One of InnerChange's most enthusiastic early supporters was Mr. Bush, then the Texas governor.
As president, Mr. Bush has worked to encourage the development of such partnerships by creating the White House Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives.
Although the details of the office's mission are still being worked out, its director, John J. DiIulio Jr., in a speech to evangelical Protestants in March, seemed to indicate that guidelines would bar direct government grants to any organization that made acceptance of a religious message central to its work.
Whether that would exclude InnerChange remains to be seen. The program's directors have not decided whether to apply for federal money, said Jack Cowley, the national director of operations. But InnerChange has been separated into sectarian and nonsectarian components (the nonsectarian includes educational and job-skills training), to make it possible to receive state financial support in Iowa and Kansas, where the program also operates.
But such a distinction should not qualify InnerChange to receive federal aid, said the Rev. Barry Lynn, executive director of Americans United for Separation of Church and State, who has debated Mr. Colson on television about the administration's initiative.
At InnerChange's core is the idea that law-breakers can be changed if they embrace teachings on ethics and morality drawn from a Christian understanding of the Bible.
"If you turn your life over to Jesus, you'll have the tools to change your life," said Chris Geil, InnerChange's program director here.
InnerChange officials say those best suited for the program are men who have hit bottom and want to change. One can certainly find inmates here who seem to fit that model. Douglas Mace, serving a sentence for assault and forgery, said: "I'm 25 and this is my fourth time in prison. I had to do something."
At the end of the month, the program's first participants will finish their 18-month session. Those serving long sentences will be returned to the general prison population. But others completing their terms will soon be released. When they leave, each will have a mentor and a local congregation to help them re-enter society.
Although the program has been under way longer in Texas, its results are still emerging. Mr. Cowley said about 100 men who participated in that state had been released over the last two years. Five have been sent back to jail. He said that he expected the number to rise, but that InnerChange "would not be satisfied at all" if the recidivism rate exceeded 15 percent to 20 percent.
That would be a good result. Nationally, about 40 percent of prison inmates wind up back in jail within three years, said Allen Beck, chief of corrections statistics for the federal Bureau of Justice Statistics. But, Mr. Beck said, recidivism is a complex matter, with rates among inmates varying depending on factors like their age and education and the nature of their crimes.
In evaluating the success of any rehabilitation program, Mr. Beck said, important questions are what type of inmates are participating, is the group self-selected and how similar are the inmates to the general prison population?
(In Iowa, participants in the InnerChange program range from men convicted of nonviolent crimes, like drug possession, to those serving sentences for assault and murder.)
InnerChange's total annual budget is $2.5 million. In Iowa, the program costs upwards of $500,000 a year, with the state paying 40 percent. The state money goes to aspects of the program not directly involved in religion, like nonsectarian drug and alcohol counseling.
The program has figured in a lawsuit, filed by four former Newton inmates against state authorities whom they accused of violating principles of church-state separation when the four were transferred out of Unit E to make way for InnerChange. The case is pending.
Elsewhere, InnerChange has proceeded without legal challenge, Mr. Cowley said. He attributed that to the fact that inmates apply to enter and are free to quit. Given the length of the sessions and the relentless focus on the biblical message, it is difficult to imagine anyone staying unless he was interested.
"God knows if you're just playing church," said Steve Nelson, 37, a tall, heavily tattooed man serving a sentence for illegal drug manufacturing. "I tell people who want to come to the program, if you really want to see God moving in your life, this is the place to be."