I'm wondering what the soldiers who survived the Fort Hood Soldier Readiness Center after Major Hasan ended his rampage will say on a Veterans' Day in 20 years. I don't mean that as as stray thought. Had they not committed to a life of sacrifice they could have been safely home and doing inconsequential things. But they weren't.
There will always be part of our population who will hear this call to serve and some who don't. The ones who don't will always have legitimate reasons for doing so. Veterans' and Memorial Days are not occasions for offhand references to them but it is a judgement on anything distracted, cynical or self satisfied which prevents us from genuine gratitude to men and women in the military.
In that regard my colleague and Director of Federal Ministries, Fr. Gerry Blackburn, himself a Veteran and former Navy Chaplain for over twenty years, commends this U-Tube video, particularly, he says, "after the kick in the stomach at Fort Hood."
Please see it at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSfFYxSdKdo
The "us" is also any part of ourselves which has become suspicious or jaded about any latest addition to the story. You know who you are--after your own time in the ranks--nothing could have been as real, you think. The integrity of time in uniform will always come from the fluidity from one era to another.
At a recent dinner General David Petraeus spoke of these latest encounters for the Armed Forces in Iraq and now Afghanistan as one of deepening--if harrowing-- experiences. Think of it: you enter as enlisted or company grade and mature well into middle and senior ranks--all in the same war. If it weren't so awful it would be an epic military education in the ranks and it brings a whole new meaning to sacrifice by the military member and his/her family.
Saying thanks always seems to be updated especially after last Thursday. +gep
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Prayers for Fort Hood
The tragedy brought on by Major Hasan's rampage brings on the head shaking impact we're all absorbing but more so for our family at Fort Hood. Yes, our family. We have seven chaplains serving at that post, an abiding congregation and another right outside the gate. They will be straining to grieve and think clearly as this toxic news descends like an unwanted fog.
Thirteen dead and thirty one wounded, what did they do other than want to serve their country? Yes, the perpetrator was a Muslim, no, this is not a time for stereotypical conclusions. Yes, Hood prides itself in the recently opened Resiliency Center, but any place is vulnerable when the times are fraught with anxiety and deployment.
Entering that post is different than other installations. Size is the factor. No other post/base (save for the Marine base at Camp Pendleton, California) gives you the impression of entering a mini-state when you drive through the front gate. III Corps is there along with two fully outfitted divisions. Still, how large it might be is no register of the sense of community within its perimeter or adjacent to it in the town of Killeen.
I spoke to Chaplain Dave Scheider on his way to work early this morning; he was composing what might be waiting at the Family Life Center where the Army wisely placed him (postponing his retirement) because of his gifts and the special need for soldier support. He said everyone was in lock down yesterday--isolated from the news--and headed for the one of the four gates and home when the alert was lifted. The shudder of trauma will be arriving as they face this weekend.
I ask your prayers for the victims and their families, primarily. May God receive them and wrap them in gracious care. Please pray for our chaplains: Jorge Budez (now deployed), George Holston, Ira Houck, Dave Scheider, Ted Valcourt, Christine Waweru and David Waweru and their families.
As well please pray for our ongoing faith community at Fort Hood. It is an indomitable congregation, always faithful in serving the troops. Fr. Paul Moore at St. Christopher's Church in Killeen, Texas is our abiding friend and supporter as is his parish family; please pray for them. +gep
Thirteen dead and thirty one wounded, what did they do other than want to serve their country? Yes, the perpetrator was a Muslim, no, this is not a time for stereotypical conclusions. Yes, Hood prides itself in the recently opened Resiliency Center, but any place is vulnerable when the times are fraught with anxiety and deployment.
Entering that post is different than other installations. Size is the factor. No other post/base (save for the Marine base at Camp Pendleton, California) gives you the impression of entering a mini-state when you drive through the front gate. III Corps is there along with two fully outfitted divisions. Still, how large it might be is no register of the sense of community within its perimeter or adjacent to it in the town of Killeen.
I spoke to Chaplain Dave Scheider on his way to work early this morning; he was composing what might be waiting at the Family Life Center where the Army wisely placed him (postponing his retirement) because of his gifts and the special need for soldier support. He said everyone was in lock down yesterday--isolated from the news--and headed for the one of the four gates and home when the alert was lifted. The shudder of trauma will be arriving as they face this weekend.
I ask your prayers for the victims and their families, primarily. May God receive them and wrap them in gracious care. Please pray for our chaplains: Jorge Budez (now deployed), George Holston, Ira Houck, Dave Scheider, Ted Valcourt, Christine Waweru and David Waweru and their families.
As well please pray for our ongoing faith community at Fort Hood. It is an indomitable congregation, always faithful in serving the troops. Fr. Paul Moore at St. Christopher's Church in Killeen, Texas is our abiding friend and supporter as is his parish family; please pray for them. +gep
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Portable 9/11
110 Maryland Avenue
Washington, DC
It's getting harder to focus with the same emotion I once had for that awful day. There are middle schoolers on my street who need to be told what happened like it was a historical event akin to the Revolutionary War. Still for those who wear the direct scars of a loved one dying on that day--and for those of us who identify with their suffering and loss--even the innocent ceremony of returning a girder back to the site for installation at a permanent memorial brings us once again to a brief, vivid focus. I understand there's a hangar full of this priceless wreckage waiting for municipalities around the country to install their own memory locations. They're lining up to do so.
Now, eight years later, and on a train to Washington, DC I'm commuting to our new office. This is a merciful trip because I'm beginning to avoid New York City on September 11th. I get fidgety; I feel like I should be somewhere but I don't know where. Here in this capitol city we will have a concluding conference in January. As friends and staff encourage this recap program we have been tallying up all that we have put our arms around during this decade of work and September 11th looms among the largest. It's a conceit to think one could ever embrace such an event; after all it's you whose being hugged and to avoid that deathlike grip you change the subject. Like living with cancer you wrangle for control. It even got us into disaster response for awhile until the Episcopal Church finally grew into the role. We set up helpful chaplaincies and founded essential infrastructures and then we moved on to the next crisis.
At an event honoring Katrina and Charles Jenkins I said our office had become visitors to other people's misery. It was sort of vagrant-compassionate ministry yet always the pale version of those warm fall nights while we waited for the 3 AM coffee at the Salvation Army tent. Before our eyes the pile was slowly converted to a more manageable pit but still no bodies were found.
Our guru and beacon of upbeat firefighter wisdom for 9/11, psychologist Dave Knowlton will be with us at the January conference. When Dave and I were visiting communities with unclaimed cars still in their railroad station parking lots--a sign of the residency of victims from the Twin Towers--Dave said this remarkable thing, "the trauma of September 11th can be located anywhere not just lower Manhattan."
It's portable in the ultimate sense. Unforgettable, and as with any insistent darkness, we strive by God's grace to avoid such a final definition of our time. +gep
Washington, DC
It's getting harder to focus with the same emotion I once had for that awful day. There are middle schoolers on my street who need to be told what happened like it was a historical event akin to the Revolutionary War. Still for those who wear the direct scars of a loved one dying on that day--and for those of us who identify with their suffering and loss--even the innocent ceremony of returning a girder back to the site for installation at a permanent memorial brings us once again to a brief, vivid focus. I understand there's a hangar full of this priceless wreckage waiting for municipalities around the country to install their own memory locations. They're lining up to do so.
Now, eight years later, and on a train to Washington, DC I'm commuting to our new office. This is a merciful trip because I'm beginning to avoid New York City on September 11th. I get fidgety; I feel like I should be somewhere but I don't know where. Here in this capitol city we will have a concluding conference in January. As friends and staff encourage this recap program we have been tallying up all that we have put our arms around during this decade of work and September 11th looms among the largest. It's a conceit to think one could ever embrace such an event; after all it's you whose being hugged and to avoid that deathlike grip you change the subject. Like living with cancer you wrangle for control. It even got us into disaster response for awhile until the Episcopal Church finally grew into the role. We set up helpful chaplaincies and founded essential infrastructures and then we moved on to the next crisis.
At an event honoring Katrina and Charles Jenkins I said our office had become visitors to other people's misery. It was sort of vagrant-compassionate ministry yet always the pale version of those warm fall nights while we waited for the 3 AM coffee at the Salvation Army tent. Before our eyes the pile was slowly converted to a more manageable pit but still no bodies were found.
Our guru and beacon of upbeat firefighter wisdom for 9/11, psychologist Dave Knowlton will be with us at the January conference. When Dave and I were visiting communities with unclaimed cars still in their railroad station parking lots--a sign of the residency of victims from the Twin Towers--Dave said this remarkable thing, "the trauma of September 11th can be located anywhere not just lower Manhattan."
It's portable in the ultimate sense. Unforgettable, and as with any insistent darkness, we strive by God's grace to avoid such a final definition of our time. +gep
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
On the Train to DC
Getting into the stride for the Washington, DC commute and our new office on Maryland Avenue (across from the Supreme Court) is having its own ups and downs. There's plenty of time on the four hour train ride from New York to read semi-annual reports and even compose nifty responses. We're actually more ahead of the game now with that direct email to me. If you haven't sent yours in I'm eager to read it.
And there's even time to slowly mull over notes and letters. One is from CAP Chaplain Cecil Wagstaff, who at 87 years old is grateful for his birthday card and wants to be remembered to everyone. Another is from Jeff McKay a civilian in the Green Zone who unexpectedly finds his tour ending. Jeff has been our reliable senior lay person in Baghdad. And there are many more thank you notes from those who helped us at General Convention.
I read those shaking my head since we are the ones in their debt. Because of budget constraints we had to cut back royally on what we did: no gala banquet, a leaner booth, and not as many chaplains flown in to wave the flag. Instead those who manned the booth put in yeoman effort to represent our work to the Church. We have wonderful people in this episcopacy.
Of course the bombshell at Convention was the austerity budget which was passed and the termination of over 40 employees at the Church Center. The staff cutback didn't affect our office though a goodly portion of our travel budget was axed. I'm hoping the move to DC will shield us from the impact of that but I'll bet the new bishop will have to subsidize program travel from the discretionary fund during the next Triennium. It's just hard for everyone these days.
I got an earful from senior chaplains about having a goodbye party for me. The planning of which I have been avoiding. Wasn't the extraordinary time we had at Kanuga last spring enough? It seemed so to me. No, they want a proper hail and farewell so buckle in; we've scheduled a three day conference in January, 2010 at the Alexandria Virgina Mark Center Hotel. It won't be as maudlin as you might think since we are inviting luminaries who have made these ten years so odd, special, and classy. More on that later I have to catch my train. +gep
And there's even time to slowly mull over notes and letters. One is from CAP Chaplain Cecil Wagstaff, who at 87 years old is grateful for his birthday card and wants to be remembered to everyone. Another is from Jeff McKay a civilian in the Green Zone who unexpectedly finds his tour ending. Jeff has been our reliable senior lay person in Baghdad. And there are many more thank you notes from those who helped us at General Convention.
I read those shaking my head since we are the ones in their debt. Because of budget constraints we had to cut back royally on what we did: no gala banquet, a leaner booth, and not as many chaplains flown in to wave the flag. Instead those who manned the booth put in yeoman effort to represent our work to the Church. We have wonderful people in this episcopacy.
Of course the bombshell at Convention was the austerity budget which was passed and the termination of over 40 employees at the Church Center. The staff cutback didn't affect our office though a goodly portion of our travel budget was axed. I'm hoping the move to DC will shield us from the impact of that but I'll bet the new bishop will have to subsidize program travel from the discretionary fund during the next Triennium. It's just hard for everyone these days.
I got an earful from senior chaplains about having a goodbye party for me. The planning of which I have been avoiding. Wasn't the extraordinary time we had at Kanuga last spring enough? It seemed so to me. No, they want a proper hail and farewell so buckle in; we've scheduled a three day conference in January, 2010 at the Alexandria Virgina Mark Center Hotel. It won't be as maudlin as you might think since we are inviting luminaries who have made these ten years so odd, special, and classy. More on that later I have to catch my train. +gep
Sunday, July 26, 2009
More General Convention
Post Game Comments*
Elevator conversations summarize what's going on at General Convention. The ride between floors with impromptu friends is just a nice add on.
The chat up and down always includes how exhausted everyone is. Up at 7 AM and to bed around 11. Between those hours the Convention intends to do business by initiating, discussing and massaging a variety of resolutions. It's astounding to see the paper this process eats up. There's one set of pages for the committee, a new set conveys the action to a dispatch mechanism, another to one deliberative House, more that talks to each mechanism oiling the works, and then repeat that one more time for the other deliberative House. I have avoided thinking about where the recording gnomes are on-site. No doubt a sweat shop of over worked typists typing again and again and again.
And as you look across the elevator at your new companions entering at each floor the eye immediately goes to the Los Angeles size phone book of a ring binder all deputies receive. Everyone tries to stay as jolly as they can under the circumstances much as you would if housebound during a hurricane.
Other than the budget the buzz in the lift was about two resolutions which dominated attention. One, known as DO25, was intended to affirm local option and record what many dioceses already do, i.e., allow for support of gay and lesbian persons pastorally—maybe even liturgically--on a case by case basis. It stops short of declaring a policy for TEC. (It was a direct result of a resolution passed three years ago under duress, BO33.)
Back in 2006 a last-minute, unconventional action was taken to assure the rest of the Anglican Communion that we would resist further ordinations of homosexuals to the episcopate for the time being. In 2010 the majority felt confidence needed to be restored in TEC even though DO25 takes great pains to assure our Communion partners we’d abide by our pledge of “gracious restraint” on any more gay and lesbian bishops.
I voted against DO25. If the choice was between consoling ourselves on the one hand and not kicking sand in the face of our Anglican Communion partners on the other I choose the latter. There's an anti-war play which portrays the damage done to society when the lead character places a box of butterflies on a table. One by one he lets them go except for the last one which he burns with a lighted match. The point is that a culture is fragile and easily harmed. It's a horrific scene and the audience was so traumatized at the debut that the script was re-written so that only paper butterflies would be incinerated.
I maintain this consolation resolution is not the benign act we think it is. For my new Lambeth friends I judge it is the real thing, terribly confusing for their perceptions about us, and no paper butterfly. Why do this if we already know the way things are among us? What is gained by stating it? There's so much we could lose; I hope I'm wrong.
The other resolution (CO56) had to do with being prepared for the blessing of same sex unions. I voted for this and toiled with others well into the night and very early the next morning to find a practical way to face the inevitable. It is naive to think we can avoid what some states have already approved as civil ceremonies. Episcopalians in those places are asking if their priests and the BCP can be used at such moments.
Our Church cannot proceed into the future with a single approach and we should find a way to provision certain dioceses to respond as the bishop sees fit. My version of this--bringing it before the 2015 Convention--was defeated. Much of General Convention is about compromise.
This still puts our episcopacy outside of electing to do the blessing of same sex unions. Ours is a much bigger challenge of recognizing those who are homosexuals and nobly serving in the ranks. +gep
*Saved and posted when I got home.
Elevator conversations summarize what's going on at General Convention. The ride between floors with impromptu friends is just a nice add on.
The chat up and down always includes how exhausted everyone is. Up at 7 AM and to bed around 11. Between those hours the Convention intends to do business by initiating, discussing and massaging a variety of resolutions. It's astounding to see the paper this process eats up. There's one set of pages for the committee, a new set conveys the action to a dispatch mechanism, another to one deliberative House, more that talks to each mechanism oiling the works, and then repeat that one more time for the other deliberative House. I have avoided thinking about where the recording gnomes are on-site. No doubt a sweat shop of over worked typists typing again and again and again.
And as you look across the elevator at your new companions entering at each floor the eye immediately goes to the Los Angeles size phone book of a ring binder all deputies receive. Everyone tries to stay as jolly as they can under the circumstances much as you would if housebound during a hurricane.
Other than the budget the buzz in the lift was about two resolutions which dominated attention. One, known as DO25, was intended to affirm local option and record what many dioceses already do, i.e., allow for support of gay and lesbian persons pastorally—maybe even liturgically--on a case by case basis. It stops short of declaring a policy for TEC. (It was a direct result of a resolution passed three years ago under duress, BO33.)
Back in 2006 a last-minute, unconventional action was taken to assure the rest of the Anglican Communion that we would resist further ordinations of homosexuals to the episcopate for the time being. In 2010 the majority felt confidence needed to be restored in TEC even though DO25 takes great pains to assure our Communion partners we’d abide by our pledge of “gracious restraint” on any more gay and lesbian bishops.
I voted against DO25. If the choice was between consoling ourselves on the one hand and not kicking sand in the face of our Anglican Communion partners on the other I choose the latter. There's an anti-war play which portrays the damage done to society when the lead character places a box of butterflies on a table. One by one he lets them go except for the last one which he burns with a lighted match. The point is that a culture is fragile and easily harmed. It's a horrific scene and the audience was so traumatized at the debut that the script was re-written so that only paper butterflies would be incinerated.
I maintain this consolation resolution is not the benign act we think it is. For my new Lambeth friends I judge it is the real thing, terribly confusing for their perceptions about us, and no paper butterfly. Why do this if we already know the way things are among us? What is gained by stating it? There's so much we could lose; I hope I'm wrong.
The other resolution (CO56) had to do with being prepared for the blessing of same sex unions. I voted for this and toiled with others well into the night and very early the next morning to find a practical way to face the inevitable. It is naive to think we can avoid what some states have already approved as civil ceremonies. Episcopalians in those places are asking if their priests and the BCP can be used at such moments.
Our Church cannot proceed into the future with a single approach and we should find a way to provision certain dioceses to respond as the bishop sees fit. My version of this--bringing it before the 2015 Convention--was defeated. Much of General Convention is about compromise.
This still puts our episcopacy outside of electing to do the blessing of same sex unions. Ours is a much bigger challenge of recognizing those who are homosexuals and nobly serving in the ranks. +gep
*Saved and posted when I got home.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
New Allies
All in all we are happy with the outcomes of this Convention thus far.
We had a successful meeting with the Theology Committee (George Clifford, Carl Andrews, Michael Battle, Bishop Mark McDonald, Gerry Blackburn and me) as we negotiated a better and more successful approach to the Church's guidance on Just War. They will invite us to their next meeting. "What do you want from us?" We said, "Give us an afternoon at your next meeting." We have moved beyond parsing the old Just War theory as we discovered that terrorism invests widely in fragmenting the culture. It doesn't come out of thin air.
I also said other parties needed seats in that room too. The Episcopal Peace Fellowship for example. That may sound odd coming from me but think of it wouldn't the Theology Committee be re-invoking their tunnel vision if they only consulted with us particularly if clarity about a cultural intention (both here and overseas) is one of our goals? The whole family should be at the table for any discussion about the consequences of war.
We took this further with the first of a series of working group meetings with the Episcopal Peace Fellowship yesterday and we hope for a symposium later this year on "shared outcomes." Both our episcopacy and the Fellowship have nearly identical hopes for the outcomes throughout the world. In SW Asia, for example, Marines intend mission success during the first 24 hours of an insertion if they can have a tribal meeting. Also, no one wants the quantity of PTS cases we have now from a battle area.
So, if you compare the outcomes--an assured reason for the insertion in the first place, a pacified and only mildly disrupted culture, and minimized trauma to our warriors--there is much we agree on. Some things we don't but if we start with the end results we can provide the Church with help in reasoned, prayerful assessments of many situations. +gep
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
At General Convention: Mission Anyway
General Convention has taken the bull by the horns when it comes to mission planning. We heard it in the Presiding Bishop's opening sermon as she closed an engaging sermon with, "Can you hear the heartbeat of the Church? 'Mission, mission, mission!'"
The problem is that you to have a diocesan membership card for it to take place, apparently. At least the agenda here in Anaheim thinks so. That kind of thinking will sentence the Church to irrelevancy. When we arrived everyone was given a number to sit at a specified table for conversation. But not me and hundreds of others. This wouldn't be any ordinary chat since the motive was for everyone to learn the art of "public narrative." There would be four fascinating sessions on this.
To be clear, it's not this technique which should be criticized but the muddled idea of what constitutes a continuing group that could feel an urge for such conversation. If you're not in a diocese you're a spectator...so sit down and be quiet.
There are two risky assumptions at work here: First, that the only institution that can muster the energy for such an exercise is a diocese. After organizing the "We Will Stand With You" effort after Katrina I learned that was a dangerous assumption. Often a diocese is eclipsed by a group of motivated parishes or institutions from within its boundaries. And that's the way the Holy Spirit speaks in that terrain. I know this flies in the face of the old adage about the diocese being the basic organizational unit of the Episcopal Church but on the ground sometimes this just isn't so. To leave other groupings outside of the ring of enthusiasm is misguided.
Wouldn't it make sense to allow for those attending from this federal episcopacy to discuss the impact of deployments, domestic violence, family separations, and the alarming suicide rate? I want to cry when I think of the squandered time here considering the passion many have applied to Home Support Team (HOST) Programs.
Second, Conventions usually use bible study as a means of becoming personable with others in the greater church...often it's through the bible study before the Eucharist. Not this time. Some druidic group decided to uncouple the link between scriptural study and new-found fellowship in favor of getting down to business by talking in this "real" way about mission. Sort of a take home goody for important chats back home. Again, the "public narrative" is what gets cheated here.
What's risky is that the Holy Eucharist's potential for motivation is blunted. I don't recall the names (maybe the faces) of anyone for the past three Conventions at my table groups prior to Communion but I do recall entering their lives. In one case we prayed for someone before an operation. In another, for success in a new job. We missed one person when he didn't make it to the service (and the bible study), a good thing because of the serious flu he had contracted; we sought medical attention for him. You felt like you belonged somewhere in addition to where you were from. We seem to be trading all that to equip ourselves with a nifty program.
Now we don't have to set up Convention the same old way each time, indeed, this new style could have engaging consequences if the organization for it didn't read--embarrassingly--like someone had copied it out of a book. I, and hundreds of people not assigned to dioceses sit around watching others talk about mission. Is that odd or what?
But the Holy Spirit finds away...we are meeting secretly at a table with no number and maybe that's the way it should always be. The organization blithely remains distracted and by God's grace we hope to intend important things anyway. +gep
The problem is that you to have a diocesan membership card for it to take place, apparently. At least the agenda here in Anaheim thinks so. That kind of thinking will sentence the Church to irrelevancy. When we arrived everyone was given a number to sit at a specified table for conversation. But not me and hundreds of others. This wouldn't be any ordinary chat since the motive was for everyone to learn the art of "public narrative." There would be four fascinating sessions on this.
To be clear, it's not this technique which should be criticized but the muddled idea of what constitutes a continuing group that could feel an urge for such conversation. If you're not in a diocese you're a spectator...so sit down and be quiet.
There are two risky assumptions at work here: First, that the only institution that can muster the energy for such an exercise is a diocese. After organizing the "We Will Stand With You" effort after Katrina I learned that was a dangerous assumption. Often a diocese is eclipsed by a group of motivated parishes or institutions from within its boundaries. And that's the way the Holy Spirit speaks in that terrain. I know this flies in the face of the old adage about the diocese being the basic organizational unit of the Episcopal Church but on the ground sometimes this just isn't so. To leave other groupings outside of the ring of enthusiasm is misguided.
Wouldn't it make sense to allow for those attending from this federal episcopacy to discuss the impact of deployments, domestic violence, family separations, and the alarming suicide rate? I want to cry when I think of the squandered time here considering the passion many have applied to Home Support Team (HOST) Programs.
Second, Conventions usually use bible study as a means of becoming personable with others in the greater church...often it's through the bible study before the Eucharist. Not this time. Some druidic group decided to uncouple the link between scriptural study and new-found fellowship in favor of getting down to business by talking in this "real" way about mission. Sort of a take home goody for important chats back home. Again, the "public narrative" is what gets cheated here.
What's risky is that the Holy Eucharist's potential for motivation is blunted. I don't recall the names (maybe the faces) of anyone for the past three Conventions at my table groups prior to Communion but I do recall entering their lives. In one case we prayed for someone before an operation. In another, for success in a new job. We missed one person when he didn't make it to the service (and the bible study), a good thing because of the serious flu he had contracted; we sought medical attention for him. You felt like you belonged somewhere in addition to where you were from. We seem to be trading all that to equip ourselves with a nifty program.
Now we don't have to set up Convention the same old way each time, indeed, this new style could have engaging consequences if the organization for it didn't read--embarrassingly--like someone had copied it out of a book. I, and hundreds of people not assigned to dioceses sit around watching others talk about mission. Is that odd or what?
But the Holy Spirit finds away...we are meeting secretly at a table with no number and maybe that's the way it should always be. The organization blithely remains distracted and by God's grace we hope to intend important things anyway. +gep
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