The End of an Era

On Friday morning, I sent a text message to my dad that said, "I just got promoted to civilian."  My Army career is officially over.  No Reserves.  No National Guard.  Just me, Pastor Civilian, with my records, memories, and scars.  

There's a small part of me that would have liked to do a full twenty years, make rank, and retire with a decent pension.  If I were more of a long-term thinker, that would be the smart play.  The only hitch in the giddy-up is that I don't want to leave my wife for longer than a week ever. EVER.  As I look at things, it seems that the mobilizations are here to stay and I don't want to leave my wife again.

However, truth be told, I suck as an Army officer.  Believe it or not, my moral standards are too high for me to function well in that environment; I'm not an "ends justifies the means" kind of guy.  The means are just as important as the ends.  Likewise, I'm far too independent and don't take orders well.  This probably comes from a bit of arrogance or hubris, thinking that I know best.  I like to think of this as confidence...when it's held in proper perspective.

I could go on and write a ton about how the Army changed during my brief nine-year career or how senior leaders are going to break the Army or how the chaplaincy is setting itself up for failure but I won't.  The simple truth of the matter is that I'm still a bit too bitter to be even remotely objective.  Therefore, I'll reserve judgement on that until later.

As I see it, the bottom line is this:  My country needed me.  I stepped up, served with honor, and now, like the "Greatest Generation" I'd like to go back to my regular life and do what I was called to do.  I'll take my experiences, memories, and scars and use them to love the people of Ascension Lutheran Church in Madison, Tennessee and be the best pastor I can be for them.

God help me in this endeavor.

Deep Thoughts on Ash Wednesday

"Know that you are dust and to dust you shall return" --traditional blessing for Ash Wednesday

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. Lententide is a time for each Christian to focus on the suffering passion of Jesus Christ so that, in my opinion, we can put some of our own sufferings into perspective. It also provides a dark backdrop for the glorious resurrection to help make Easter stand out that much more in our lives and in our souls.

As a military chaplain from a traditional church, I offered a special service to kick off the Season of Lent. We had about 60 trainees from here at Fort Benning join me at Regimental Chapel for a service of Imposition of Ashes. It was a time for us to rend our hearts in confession to God, to admit our sorrow for our sin, and to once again be reminded of His love for us in Jesus Christ.

Part of the service is the traditional signing with ashes. As the pastor, I asked each individual in attendance to come forward and, with ashes, I made the sign of the cross upon their forehead and spoke the traditional words, "Know that you are but dust and to dust you shall return." A reminder to each of us that we are mortal and not long for this world.

Except, with this congregation, there was an irony that was not lost on me. In fact, it moved me deeply as I applied ashes to the foreheads of these young men. "Know that you are but dust and to dust you shall return" is a phrase that each of use to remind ourselves of our own mortality. But everyone that I signed last night, save my wife, was in an Army Combat Uniform (ACU) and was at some point of preparing for war. If the present operations tempo continues, all of my constituents last night will see warfare. They will deploy to an area of the world where people will seek to do them harm. Some of them may return to the dust sooner than others of us.

Sure, I realize that anyone reading these words could meet with an untimely event that ends our life but most of us take precautions to avoid such things. The young men that I signed last night will take precautions in their missions as well but still, for the freedom and security of our nation, they will seek out harm and danger.

A pastor friend of mine once commented on how difficult it was to sign his infant son and say the words, "Know that you are dust and to dust you shall return." After last night, I believe I know what he meant.

Yesterday's Joke...which actually happened.

So, there I was, no s#!t, sitting in my brigade unit ministry team (UMT) meeting and we're talking calendar. Suddenly, this little thing called "Easter" popped out and began to cause trouble. What are we going to do about Easter?

Tradition holds that all the General Protestants combine into one mass service and hold a Sunrise Service. Animated discussion ensued on who we should get as a guest speaker. (Because the service was so large and we had a humongous audience, it only holds that we should get a guest speaker; none of us could be good enough.)

The first suggestion was a guy who had lost his arms and legs in an automobile accident and has a "great testimony." The second suggestion was a guy who had been seriously wounded in Viet Nam and "was a good preacher." The third suggestion was a former Special Forces guy who had written a great book and is now a pastor of a church in Iowa.

The discussion of timelines (do we have enough notice to get one of these guys), logistics (is it just our brigade or will we include our sister brigade across the hill), and finances (can we just do a special offering on Easter for the speaker) then ensued and hit a fever pitch. The whole time I sat back and observed.

Finally, after a few minutes, the brigade chaplain looks at me and asks, "Tom, what do you think?" I replied, "I think we should preach Jesus Christ and Him raised from the dead." Everyone in the room looked at me as if I had just farted.

All of us in that room are CHRISTIAN chaplains and this is arguably THE BIGGEST day of our year; it's the day that we remember the peace and hope for this life given through the resurrection of our Savior. It's the whole reason to do one, big, mass service...so that we can emphasize the importance of the day! It's not about great speakers, good programs, or special offerings. It's about realizing that death has lost its sting, God wins, and we all get to live happily ever after!

Add this to the list of reasons why I am leaving the chaplaincy: we have lost that which separates us from every other staff officer. We have lost our ability and commitment to preach the Gospel and to change lives with its power. We'd rather be "relevant" and "inspirational" than be prophetic or apocalyptic. No wonder we are marginalized so much.

How Far Are You Willing To Go?

"Are you willing to lose it all?" --Glen Beck (heard repeatedly on his radio show)

"Baptism, whenever it occurs, sets into motion a lifetime of turning and detoxification. As Luther said, every day of our lives, we must wake up and volunteer for death, praying God to finish in us that which was begun in us in our Baptism." --William Willimon, Peculiar Speech: Preaching to the Baptized, pg. 63

The first quote by nationally syndicated radio talk show host, Glen Beck, refers directly to the current economic crisis. IF President Obama is right and our economy will be unsalvagable save by his salvific stimulus stipend, are you...am I...willing to lose it all? The house. The cars. The luxuries, ways of life, standards, habits, customs, and comforts. Are you...am I...willing to lose it all.

I'm on the verge of losing it all. In 97 days, I'm leaving a system that has housed, clothed, and sustained me for the last 5 years of my life. I'm making a foray back into the real world of rewards not entitlements, of privileges not rights. When there is a bureaucracy of one, who can you blame? In 97 days, I'm back in a parish. Gone are the 30 days of leave per year. Gone is about 30% of my current salary and it's benes such as free health club membership and tax-free shopping. In 97 days, I lose all of this.

Am I ready? Define ready. Do I have a place to pastor (a.k.a. a "job)? Nope. Do I know where I'm going? Uh-uh. Do I have a place to live. Not yet. Am I ready? By many standards, no. And this is so liberating and detoxifying I can hardly stand it!

I have done just about all I can do. I've set in motion the ecclesiastical bureaucracy that will help to find me a place to pastor (a.k.a. a "job") and I've enacted my network of classmates and former colleagues telling them that I'm looking for a church. I've double-checked all my paperwork and told my superiors to send it everywhere. In my tradition, there's not much else that I can do but sit back and wait for a Call.

My wife and I have started making contingency plans. How would we pay for things? Where would we live? How would we survive? These are plans that scare her to death and liberate me to life.

Don't you see how exciting all of this is? God has something amazing in store for me! He's not going to allow me to go to my next position as though I did everything to make it happen. He's going to show His hand at work in our world and I am going to be able to see it and feel it and appreciate it and celebrate it.

I can't wait to see what happens! Don't you wish you were in a position to experience the same thing?

Subverting the Culture

"Are these people right? Is there way of life in no danger from us? Is what we say about God and his ways among us not real in the way that Chevrolets and basketball teams and fresh garden spinach are real? Many pastors, realizing the opinion polls overwhelmingly repudiate their self-concept, submit to the cultural verdict and slip into the role of chaplain to the culture. It is easy to do. But some pastors do not; they become subversives to the culture."

--Eugene Peterson, The Contemplative Pastor, pg. 30 (emphasis added)

I stopped in the middle of my exegesis for this weekend's sermon to post. The idea just hit me like a bolt from the blue and this passage from The Contemplative Pastor came to mind. Allow me to re-trace my thought pattern and explain.

I'm sitting in my military office with Greek books strewn about me. I am preaching this weekend and I'm behind in my preparation. I still translate the text that I'm preaching from the Greek text, in part, to keep grounded to the Word and, in part, as a justification to myself, a testament to me that my B.A. in Theological Languages isn't totally useless. As I sit here, I feel a little bit guilty about it. "This is not busy," I say to myself. "This is not crucial to your position. There are few other officers in the Army who would deem this as an efficient use of time. How many other chaplains are doing this right now?" The voice of the Tempter sounds just like me. But he slips up with that last question.

How many other chaplains ARE doing this? Heck, how many other pastors are doing this? Or, as Peterson says above, have they become "chaplains to the culture" bending their expectations, duties, and their very thoughts to the culture in which they live? Are they so busy making Jesus into a life-enhancing coach that they forget that He was a couter-culture revolutionary who talked about being in the temple to be about His Father's business, destroying the temple, the armies of His Father, and the dawning of a new Kingdom.

Yesterday I sort of lost my temper with my brigade chaplain as he called me for my "numbers." How many people did I counsel? What were their issues? What programs do I have coming up? Quantify. Quantify. Quantify. The things that I had done so far this week were unquantifable. I had coffee with a brother in the ministry and we talked about Peterson's book, the Lord's Prayer, and subverting the culture. I spent two days teaching suicide intervention methods to sergeants and company commanders so that they will know how to engage someone who's struggling. Now I am preparing for preaching (and posting on my blog). These things look horrible on a "Religious Support Activities" report. But, to my soul, they are priceless and, without them, I have nothing to give the dozens of people who come to me for help.

My job description starts with, "Serve as pastor and chaplain to..." whatever kind of unit I am in. I'm taking that seriously and doing what needs to be done...no matter how it looks on a report.