Many of you know that I recently went through a time of liminality and
discernment about the path toward practicing my ministry, sparked by the military choosing to offer me Reserve Military Chaplaincy instead of Active Duty. There have been many interesting and amazing aspects of that time of liminality and discernment, and I will reflect on them from time to time here at Celestial Lands. When I moved out of that liminal-space, I chose to accept the U.S. Army’s offer to become a Reserve Military Chaplain, and I will be serving as an Interim Minister for a UU Congregation in northern Michigan in the coming year. I am very close to having accepted an assignment as a Battalion Chaplain for an Army Reserve unit in Michigan as well, one with a very active deployment cycle.
One of the many things that has struck me about this time of transition and discernment is how many people, ministerial colleagues, friends, and lay members of our congregations became hopeful in this time that I would not become an Army Chaplain. Some sought to hide that hope from me, others expressed it quite openly. When I made the decision to accept the Army’s offer of a Reserve commission, more than a few came to me to express that their hope for me had been dashed (not in those words, of course). Many expressed that they had hoped that the door of military chaplaincy would close, so that I could “bring (my) gifts to a church, where they would be most valued”.
Still others expressed concern for my spiritual wellbeing. These friends had been worried that I would be one of very few liberal ministers in the military, and that this dynamic would force me to become defensive and jaded. Their hope had been that I would now be able to stay, grow, develop, and share in a community of liberal faith, without the need to constantly defend my faith, my right to serve, and my theological stances.
Still others were concerned for my physical safety. Let’s face it, no matter what role you might play, a deployment to Iraq or Afghanistan is dangerous, and these friends knew that I would never be satisfied with remaining behind while my soldiers deployed into harm’s way. They had thought that if the Army told me no, that if for some reason the door closed, then I would know that I had done all I could to be with those soldiers, and would accept that I could stay home and safe. They would not need to worry about me being injured or killed in a combat zone.
Still others were concerned for how I would manage the inherent social justice issues in serving as a military chaplain. These friends shared their hope that I would turn my energy to speaking-out about those concerns from outside the military, since I could not do so inside. Outside the military, I would not be tempted to compromise my ethics, values, and principles and become a hypocrite. A few of these friends seemed positively gleeful at the idea that the door of military chaplaincy had closed for me.
Some of my friends and colleagues managed to combine some or all of these at once. These encounters ranged from being deeply touching to more than slightly disempowering. A few seemed to me to express that they were glad when it looked like I was not going to become a military chaplain, and disappointed in me when I did take my oath at the UUA General Assembly. (This was a nice off-set for all those who want to place a halo-of-sainthood on the heads of UU Military Chaplains, more on that another time).
Now, I know in each of these cases, the person’s reaction came from a space of love. I know that the one friend and colleague who met me in the hallway with tears in her eyes was deeply concerned for me because of that love. I know that the friend who told me that her prayer was that I would “survive” long enough to get to be a “full minister” meant well. One of my colleagues and dear friends who stopped me in the hallway at the UUA’s General Assembly shared with me her concerns, and gave me one of the most profound compliments I have ever received in the process. I will always cherish that conversation and the intent behind it…
And…
And it brings me to realize that there are two aspects of call and ministry that I hold in a different way to many of these friends and colleagues. I get that I may be the one who is out-of-step, not they. While I will name the belief about call, (that you don’t choose a call, you follow it where it leads), it is the belief about ministry I want to share.
And that is this. Ministry is supposed to be dangerous. Ministry is supposed to put at risk one’s safety, be it spiritual, emotional, and/or physical. One of the primary purposes of seminary is to learn to manage, mitigate, and operate within that risk. We use words like “boundaries” and “self-care” to describe how we manage and mitigate the risk of ministry, because we understand that ministry, all ministry, is inherently dangerous, both to yourself (the minister) and to others (the congregation and the world).
I’ve had the privilege to spend this last year as a hospice Chaplain resident. I have moved into places of deep emotional pain and loss with patients and families. I have navigated the unexploded land-mines that rest in the history of any family, and even done some controlled detonations of a few of them in working to clear a path for some of these patients and families. I have stood amidst the cross-fire of family and staff conflicts, I have even, on rare occasion, intentionally made myself the target so that the family would, for the brief moment necessary, shoot at someone besides each other.
I have gone home at the end of the day and cried. I have gone home angry. I have sat with my wife and worked through what I am feeling, and we have struggled to find a place between us for my own grief, anguish, and loss to rest. I have processed emotions with my Chaplain Resident colleagues, and planned ways to do that work without them. I have found a way to hold it together long enough so that, at the end of a funeral for one of my patients, I could manage to say the words “It is my honor and duty as an officer of these United States to present this flag to you, on behalf of a grateful nation” in something remotely like the voice of a military officer.
I have even gone into areas of Chicago where my presence, as a Caucasian appearing male, was not exactly safe in order to be with some of these families. I have stood as a presence amid the grief turned anger of some who just want to hit someone until they felt as bad as they do. I have been the projection screen for decades old family conflicts and violence, so that the families could see that violence and conflict reflected back to them.
Ministry, by the very nature of being ministry, is dangerous. If military chaplaincy is different, it is simply because some of that danger, the physical danger, is very apparent. However, I believe it is not the danger we see as ministers that should most concern us… the dangers we see we can prepare for. No, it is the dangers we don’t see, or don’t believe are as profound as they are… these are the dangers that can claim both the minister and the ministry.
Yours in faith,
Rev. David
In the UP? Glad you got settled into something.
Beautiful post.
What a powerful message. Thank you for sharing your experience and blessings upon your powerful ministry.
Thank you…
Bill, not the UP (although that would have been fun, I love the UP). I will be serving as the Interim Minister for the UU Fellowship of Midland, Michigan. It also looks like I will be the Battalion Chaplain of a unit in Southfield, Michigan, although that is still jumping through all the appropriate hoops.
Yours in faith,
David
Amen! And, as the grandson and nephew of Navy veterans, I’m glad you’re providing this service to the military. Keep on carrying on.
Desmond
Good luck to you there David with both endeavors…
Congratulations on achieving your goal of becoming a military chaplain. I had thought that you might end up in a reserve capacity since there are a lot more UUs trying to be ministers than there are churches both in civilian life and in the military. I hope that you can find a way to use the time to your advantage. I think that trying to serve as a chaplain is a noble calling and that you will do well. Part of the desire to see you do well in a civilian post for me, is the perception I have of your rhetorical abilities that depend upon your military stance. I hope that you can find deployment to either Iraq or Afghanistan so that you can practice as you have preached.
Thanks for this thoughtful piece!
I think it is wonderful that you are going into military chaplaincy. My father was in the Navy and I have spent many years on bases. I will always have a soft spot for those who serve our country. I very much like your thoughts about how ministry is dangerous. I couldn’t agree more.
Along the way to becoming UU, I passed through the Episcopal Church by way of a military chaplain. This was during the ’80s and at that time there was a Bishop for the Armed Forces to represent those of us who didn’t have a ‘home parish’ but called ‘home’ wherever in the world we were stationed. At that time, it was a big controversy in among Episcopals… did having a Bishop for the Armed Forces indicate church approval of the military and by extension, of war and aggression?
The position eventually went away, which was a disappointment to me and to others who were both religiously liberal *and* affiliated with the military. I cannot think of a place more in need of religious liberals than within the Armed Forces. I often wondered who would wish a military that has no conception of the ideas and questions raised by the more liberal wing of religious thought?
All of which is a roundabout way of saying that while i understand the wishes those around you have that you might have taken another path, I am very grateful that you have chosen to serve those who often feel bereft by both the ties of ‘home’ and church. No matter what the denomination, I have found military chaplains to be among the finest religious teachers I’ve ever known. Thank you for your service and know that the people you touch for only a brief time will remember you and what you bring to them forever.
David: One of the things I am learning as I continue this path of ministry is that we are called to live a life of integrity, to live any less than that is to miss our calling. Whenever a person insists on living a life of integrity, there are always people, well-meaning people, people we love with our whole hearts, who will try to convince the person to veer off course.
As I have gotten to know you these past many years I have learned that you are a person of integrity. Your convictions are built on solid ground. I cannot imagine you doing anything else with your life than that which drives you with such a single heart in purpose. Might that we all live our lives with such integrity and conviction.
Blessings on your journey,
Fred
Welcome to the dangers of Interim Ministry, David . . . and thank you for putting such eloquent words to the reality of ministry being a dangerous calling. Blessings on your journey, and may you find support and encouragement for your ministry however YOU discern your call . . . your gifts are needed in so many ways.
Thanks, David, for your thoughtful and articulate sharing about your ministry. You have much to offer to those you serve. As a former VA chaplain, I can identify with your passion to serve those who place themselves in harm’s way on behalf of others. Best wishes for your interim ministry.
peace,
Marcia Marino
I came to this page to read what David had to say and at the end, found words from someone who was there at the beginning of my current spiritual path, Maureen Killoran, my former minister in Asheville, NC (and to whom I will forever be in her debt for the care she gave when I was very ill…thank you again, Maureen).
David, I can think of no place where you are needed more than on the front-lines. So many who serve in that capacity are conflicted because of their spiritual upbringing clashes with what they see in war. (I know you know this) You are uniquely qualified to deflect the anger away from God and to help to alleviate the confusion by placing God in a different light and may help them to cope in ways they never thought of.
I can think of few situations where your talents would be better served.
Namaste,
Keith
Keith,
Thank you for your words, and for being there at the beginning of my path into and through ministry. It is amazing to see those connections between us.
I would love to talk sometime, to see how you are. rev.pyle at gmail.com.
Yours in Faith,
David
I am sure that God will bless you in this new role – it is dangerous – but to be where God wants you is what it is all about. After 12 years as a military chaplain I can assure you it is cutting edge ministry, it is neither easier or harder – just different. But you will only survive if you stay in close contact with the Lord, and gather around you a good support network.
Chaplain Ian Whitley
Great essay. Another commenter said it, the most compelling reason to become a military chaplain is that you are needed there. That’s where your call is coming from. Did any of the people that you paraphrase here say anything about that? Did they read your posts about serving the Great Lakes base?
Ministry is dangerous. What a great message! All change comes from within. I hope it echos to ministers of all faiths.
Reading today’s articles about the Army’s suicide report, I saw that one of the recommendations is to hire 72 more chaplains. I hope you get one! 1,700 soldiers attempted suicide last year. There are so many hurting people that need help.
I am going to be honest. Any feelings that I have in the negative about you being deployed are 100% selfish. I wished it would not happen because I would keep you here if I could. I would wish you here to avoid the grief I will feel when you leave MI and if your passion takes your life…boy that would be hard on ME. I cannot however, wish you anything but to live the life in which you are living your passion. If you die young I hope you are happy knowing that you did much good in this world and that you do not ever regret the path not taken. Trying to live live deprived of your passion is a road I would not wish anyone I care about to travel. You are a light in this world and you must then head into the dark.