He told me very calmly: "I am going to kill myself. I deserve to die and go to hell."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I not only killed enemy soldiers in combat, but I murdered lots of innocent civilians as well." Knowing I had been a chaplain, he went on: "You have spent your entire life working for God, and I have done all this evil, so where does that leave me?"

"You get the party and I don’t," I replied.

"What are you taking about?" he asked.

Continue reading "Story of a Veteran"

Trinity Sunday: Isaiah 6:1-8; Rev 4L 1-11; John 16: 5-15

SHEMA YISRAEL ADONAI ALOHANU ADONAI ACHAD
Hear, O Israel, the Lord, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.

Thus begins the Shema Yisrael, the ancient Hebrew prayer found in Deuteronomy 6. It is the foundational and daily prayer of the people of Israel from biblical times to this very day--a bold proclamation that there is only one God--a gutsy statement in the ancient world--the foundational understanding of God as well for us, the people of the new Israel, the new Covenant. The Lord our God is One.

It was this God who made the promise to Abraham. It was this God who called to Moses from the burning bush and promised to rescue the people from slavery in Egypt. And when Moses asked the voice for a name, he got a very short answer and no name at all: 'ehyeh asher ehyeh' translated "I am who I am" or better "I will be who I will be."

It was this God whose name could not really be uttered, a God of awesome mystery, who dwells totally beyond the world--and yet a God who hears the cry of the people. This is a God of absolute power, more powerful the Pharoah's army, more powerful than the sea--One who could rescue his people. This name and this God admits of no further penetration, no further interpretation.

But this God had to be called something: Adonai, El, Elohim or simply the short form of God's unpronounceable name "Yahweh" which means: "he is," or "he will be" or "he will cause to be." And, God tells Moses, "this is my name forever and my title for all generations." (3:15)

As we heard in the readings from Isaiah and Revelation a moment ago: This is the God who created the heavens and is now enthroned in the heavens and is called: "Holy, Holy, Holy." "Who was and is and is to come." The people will see who this God is when they witness what this God does--as Ezekiel reminds us: "And they will know that I am Yahweh." This is the God who tells Isaiah: "I am the First and the Last." (48:12) and yet a God whom Isaiah knows cherishes the people with a mother's love and comforts them as a mother comforts her child (49:15; 66:13).

This is the God who hears the groaning of all creation (Rm 8:22). This is the God who has mercy on his people in their struggles with sin and suffering and death. This is a God who connects with earth, not like the kite at the end of a string, but as One who comes among us: This is Emmanuel, God with us.

Continue reading "Trinity Sunday Reflections"

Spiritual Wounds of War: Some Reflections from Out of the Night

From the New Intro to Out of the Night on civil religion and war

Once again the country is divided over a war which seems to have no end in sight. Once again, troops are called upon to fight a war against an insurgency that seems to grow stronger. Once again the American military is called upon to chase an enemy into the midst of a civilian population. Once again the American military is seen by an indigenous population as oppressors. As was the case in Vietnam, the origins and conduct of the war seem grounded in erroneous intelligence, misjudgments, mistakes and outright deception on the part of political leaders.

Soldiers and their families are beginning to raise their voices in protest about shabby medical treatment they have received back home. Multiple deployments of military personnel back into the war zone have caused serious morale problems among the troops. Reserve and National Guard units have been called up and deployed in ways not seen since World War II.

Once again the American civil religion--which is often confused with authentic Christianity--has been used as a religious and moral underpinning for war. The discussion of civil religion in Out of the Night is as relevant today as when it was written. The religious rhetoric used to support the war in Iraq is even more blatant and virulent than that used during Vietnam. The dangerous doctrine of American exceptionalism which formed the basis for this pre-emptive war has its roots in civil religion. There has never been a greater need for a public conversation about religion and war than there is now. Out of the Night provides a framework for this discussion.

Discussions with counselors who work with newly returned veterans of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and some personal contact with these veterans make it abundantly clear that the questions and problems confronting these young men and women are the same as those that plagued older generations of warriors.

The sole exception and crucial difference between these new veterans and those who returned from Vietnam is that the country has learned from the bitter experience of a generation ago that we must provide support for our troops. We must not scapegoat them for whatever errors the civilian authorities might make in the decision to go to war and the blunders they make in fighting the war.

As are other Vietnam vets, I am profoundly grateful for the support our troops have received during this war. I like to think that this book has played a small part in making Americans aware that veterans need our support, whatever we may think of the war itself.

Homily for Gordon Buck's Burial Service, May 3, 2008. St. David's

The day before he died, Gordon heard the gospel we have just read. Within a few hours, Gordon was to take his own place in one of those
heavenly dwelling places. We can almost picture Gordon, the engineer,
so attentive to details, carefully checking out his new dwelling on the way in. As Brent said so beautifully in his email to the parish, "Never have the gates of heaven been open as wide as when Gordon strolled joyfully through."

Brent's description of Gordon's death was both accurate and deeply moving. He wrote: "Gordon died cradled in the arms of Louise and surrounded by friends of many years who have stood beside him (and Louise) in good times and bad. His death was peaceful and holy, as Louise hoped it would be. He knew that it was time to die and the passage was mercifully swift. The continuum between life and death was fully evident and Gordon made the transition with grace, surrounded by love."

The doctors and the medical staff at the VA loved and respected Gordon and Louise. In fact one of the doctors who visited during his last hours commented that most people aren't surrounded by this kind of love as they slip away towards death.

Certainly there is a large and deeply felt absence here in this parish. To quote Brent again: "The voice of St. David's died. Gordon’s voice was heard in worship, in the pages of The Gospel, in his strength of spirit, and in the dignity with which he lived his life. That voice is now silent here, but singing the praises of God in a place where there is no suffering or pain."

At the reception after the service we will hear many stories from the life of this multi-faceted and magnificent man. We will learn that he was a lifelong devotee of railroading, he was at various times a gymnast, a radio announcer, a licensed pilot, a soldier, an electrical engineer, a computer expert, a pioneer designer of the internet and a handyman who could do just about anything. Gordon knew everything about computers and would answer any question. The only trouble was, after talking to Gordon you always needed just a little more ram or another few megabytes or gigabytes.

Louise and Gordon loved children and before the accident they would offer assistance to parents by taking care of the kids for a weekend or a few days. And kids loved them and responded to them. When the parents returned, Gordon and Louise would remark on how well-behaved the kids were--and you'd wonder whose kids they were talking about.

We who remember Gordon before the accident know that his great delight was in doing all that he could to make life pleasant and bright for his beloved Louise. And then there was that terrible day in March of 1989.

When Gordon returned to St. David's in his wheelchair, though diminished in size, he grew in stature. He never complained, rather, he inspired us all. He resumed his place in the choir he loved so much. He served on the vestry. He read the Scriptures from the very center of the church. He published our monthly newsletter. After the accident Gordon moved even more into the center of our parish life.

And so did Louise, for she continued on as our liturgist and devoted parish helper, but now she was constrained by the tremendous responsibility of caring for Gordon. So Louise and Gordon inspired us in new ways from their place at the very center of life in this parish.

Many people came to their assistance, and were in turn inspired and helped by them. Parishioners went over to help. There were the attendants and the choir. Their circle of friends grew to include the wonderful medical staff at the VA hospital where Gordon was a patient so many times.

Then there was that incredible day sixteen years ago when Gordon discovered a daughter he had never met. When that daughter and her husband came to San Diego to visit, there was a public ceremony of adoption right here in this parish.

Gordon and Louise accepted Tinker as their daughter and Barry as their son-in-law. The lives of both couples were immeasurably and permanently enriched by this relationship and they have been even further blessed by the four children since born to Tinker and Barry.

When Gordon died, the VA presented Louise with a flag because Gordon had been a soldier. When Tinker opened the box, this young woman who had been an army wife, realized the flag was not properly folded, so we went to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot to have the Marines fold it the right way. Louise decided that Tinker should receive the flag.

So six Marines from the color guard folded the flag properly--as at a military funeral--and presented the flag to Tinker. And upon leaving the premises they rendered a proper salute to the departed soldier, to his wife and daughter.

Tinker, that flag is yours. Keep it and treasure it, for it is a reminder of your father at a stage in his life when he was young and vigorous, when he endured the rigors of basic training and lived the army life with which you and Barry are so familiar. And Arielle, Caleb, Adrianna and Alexis--remember that your grandfather was at one time a young man whose energy was at least the equal of your own.

Really Gordon's life is best summed up in his signature hymn: The
Exultet, the Easter Proclamation. Each year on the night before Easter at the service of the Great Vigil, Gordon sang right here in this church that most ancient and beautiful Christian hymn. It is a hymn that summarizes all we believe about the core of our faith: that Christ crucified, was raised from the dead and that we who are baptized into his death are joined also in his resurrection. The root meaning of Exultet is to exult. That's our Easter faith. That's the way Gordon sang it and that's the way Gordon lived it.

You see Gordon, the skeptic, the doubter, the careful scientist had come to faith by resolving in his own mind the deepest questions of science and faith and he had also accepted that faith in his heart and at the very center of his soul.

Gordon sang the Exultet every year, but he lived it every day. This year he had again prepared to sing it at the Great Vigil of Easter, but was too sick to come to church, so he called our home that night and sang it beautifully over the phone for Carol and Marie. He sang it and he lived it.

So, what does it say, this song which was Gordon's song and is actually the signature hymn for the entire human race? It begins when the church is dark and the paschal candle is brought in signifying the light of Christ, This light is then spread to the smaller candles, representing all of us who receive our light from the light of Christ. Did Gordon, confined to a wheelchair as a quadriplegic, understand darkness and the night of the soul? Oh yes, he did! Did he understand the light of Christ and did he extend it to others? Oh yes, he did!

Just remember or imagine for a moment that man with less than 30% lung capacity, in his wheelchair singing with full voice and great joy the opening words of that ancient hymn:

"Rejoice, heavenly powers! Sing, choirs of angels!
Exult, all creation around God's throne!
Jesus Christ, our King, is risen!
Sound the trumpet of salvation!"

Remember this man, who lived for 19 years in the darkness of quadriplegia singing this:

"Rejoice, O earth, in shining splendor,
radiant in the brightness of your King!
Christ has conquered! Glory fills you!
Darkness vanishes for ever!"

And the hymn goes on, bidding us to do what Gordon did with his life among us:

"Rejoice, O Mother Church! Exult in glory!
The risen Savior shines upon you!
Let this place resound with joy,
echoing the mighty song of all God's people!"

On the morning he died, Gordon refused any further treatment, knowing it was fruitless. He told Louise, "I've decided to bail." A paraphrase of the words of Jesus on the Cross: "It is finished." When he was anointed and heard the prayers for the dying, he was still able to respond, in imitation of the one who said: "Father, into your hands, I commend my spirit."

And then came the transition from life into the long night of death…but here's what the Exultet says about the finality of death:

"This is the night
when Jesus Christ broke the chains of death
and rose triumphant from the grave."

Gordon lived out the Exultet every day. His example and his inspiration to us was his Easter faith. His legacy to us is to be found in the final words of that great song, his song, our song.

"May the Morning Star which never sets
find this flame still burning:
Christ, that Morning Star,
who came back from the dead,
and shed his peaceful light on all humankind,
your Son, who lives and reigns for ever and ever.
Amen." And for Gordon. Alleluia, Alleluia.

(The text of the Exultet used in this homily is from the longer version, cited in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exultet)

An Episcopal priest friend, a woman who served in Iraq as an army chaplain, speaking of her experience there, put it very succinctly. She said, "In combat we embrace evil." To which I, recalling Vietnam, replied: "Yes, and evil embraces us." War brings about a rapid and radical conversion from one belief system to another. It is a conversion from a world of innocence to a realm of mindless and massive violence. Combat calls into question a benevolent God and leads to nihilism. For countless soldiers the religious beliefs of childhood become impossible. Though they may continue to believe in God and practice religion, faith is most often filtered through a deeper, darker prism. The altered state of being that results from war is a "new faith." It is a kind of religious experience which grasps Reality as partially hidden and partially known.

Continue reading "Military Homecoming. University of San Diego"