Spring!

I've been watching ole' man willow for some weeks now. Last week he started putting on some green, the first sign of spring coming. Today the daffodils are up, the dogwoods and cherry blossoms are in full bloom, in general an all around beautiful spring day. By afternoon the sun was out and it was warming up. A wonderful day to be doing ceremonies in the cemetery.

I had two funerals today. My first was a full honors ceremony with a fly over by 1st Heli out of Andrews. I always enjoy hearing their birds come over as they practice their runs up and down the Potomac. Today was the first time I've had them do a flyover for a ceremony. This ceremony was also quite special not only because of the noble character of the individual we were honoring but because of the privilege of doing the ceremony with our Air Force Chief of Staff.

This afternoon was a much smaller ceremony but no less important, as a daughter and her children laid to rest a beloved mother and grandmother.

My time at Arlington has taught me and reminded me of many things: service, valor, honor, sacrifice, memory -- but not least among the things I've learned is that at the end of the day, when labor is done and recognition is past, ribbons and medals have faded, and time calls for us to journey onward -- that which is greatest the testimony of all is the love that shines in the eyes and remains in the hearts of our family and friends.

I will miss Arlington and the incredible privilege it is to serve these heroes and their families of our great nation when it comes time to move on.

I will be moving on. Soon. I am in my last months here. New challenges and new places of service await, but who I am will always be shaped in part by my last two years here.

Humble Ground

Thursday saw me driving through the beautiful hills of Pennsylvania toward Pittsburgh to attend a conference on utilizing Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to treat Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

It was a rainy day off an on with fog winding its way through both valleys and tree tops along the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I took an intended detour toward Shanksville, where I visited the site of flight 93's crash that fateful day on 11 September. It is a quite rural place. The last leg of the journey travels an unassuming gravel road past a rather large eyesore of a salvage yard to crest a hill where one looks down upon a humble temporary memorial. From the hill top one can gaze 360 degrees around at the golden fields and surrounding tree lines.

There were two volunteers there, but no one else. I had the site to myself with the rain and the cold wind. The crash site itself is located in a field some three hundred yards distant, marked by a lone American flag.

Perhaps it was the cold or the wind driven rain, but nothing visible generated a sense of awe or wonderment. Nonetheless, awe was there. What is rather humble ground is wrapped in meaning -- the meaning of story, the meaning of memory. Here a plane crashed that was meant for somewhere in the capitol of our nation, a target located but a few miles from my home and from where I work. Ordinary Americans took back that plane and surrendered their lives to save others. Ordinary Americans achieved the first victory in the war on terror, a great cost, but it was a total victory. This particular band of terrorists was thwarted. It was worth a moment to stop, reflect, and pray - a prayer of thanksgiving for Americans such as these and a prayer for their families and friends. A time to remember why this war must be won for the cost of failure is far too high.

I made my way into Pittsburg which quickly became quite a contrast to the beauty and serenity of the Penn countryside and the charming small towns. I found my hotel even though my GPS kept telling me I was somewhere else. I suspect the overwhelming jungle of metal was interfering with its signal. It has been awhile since I've stayed in a convention focused hotel so should not have been surprised by $3.50 for a diet coke. That turned out to be good for me, as I drank more water than I normally do. The seminar itself was one of the best seminars I have attended. It accomplished its goal without being too much or too little. It was more than worth the time and effort.

My return trip was enjoyable as well. The rain had lifted and the sun was shining in a cloud filled with fluffy cumulus clouds. The views as the roadway rises and descends through these upper Apalachian mountains was soul refreshing. That and traffic was fairly light without a sign of an infernal political bumper sticker on every car in sight (of course that changed once I came within range of the DC beltway).

Honor

Today is Medal of Honor Day.

The Medal of Honor is our nation's highest military award. Arlington National Cemetery is home to over 300 of these award winners.

SPC McGinnis is found in the infamous section 60 of Arlington. A fellow Lutheran and brother in Christ, he gave his life for the lives of his brothers in arms.

I make it my habit if I am anywhere near his grave in section 60 for ceremonies or otherwise, to detour to his grave and render a salute.

Likewise, if I am near to SFC Smith's grave, I will stop and render a salute. These two gravesites and the gravesites of those active duty casualties in the war on terror are the most special of ground to me personally at Arlington. I have buried veterans from WWII, Korea, Vietnam and some serving in more than one of these wars. I guess when my time comes, my war will have been the War on Terror. I pray that once it is finally won, it will be my last one.

there is...
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

NIV Ecclesiastes 3:8

_________________________________________

Private First Class Ross McGinnis

a member of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church of Knox Pennsylvania

Our Bible tells us that God gave up his only son to die for us so that we may live. But Romayne and I are not gods. We can't see the future, and we didn't give our son to die, knowing that he will live again. We gave him to fight and win and come home to us and marry and grow old and have children and grandchildren. But die he did, and his mother, dad and sisters must face that fact and go on without him, believing that someday we will meet again. Heaven is beyond our imagination and so we must wait to see what it's like. -- his parents
(from Arlington Cemetery.net)

MACRO & MICRO

between emptiness and meaning
between despair and hope
between surrender and faith
____________________________

This was a week of contrasts. One starts a week orientated toward expectations, as one readies for a storm observed flowing in from the west. Monday was a beautiful day which saw me doing a long run early in the morning in the pre-spring coolness. I was looking forward to a number of morning and evening runs in what was shaping up to be a spring like week, but was not to be as a particular "nasty critter" (my doc's words, not mine) decided to a make a home in my innards.

This week I had the opportunity, indeed a most rare privilege for a chaplain of my position, of sitting in and providing logistical assistance for the COCOM Chaplain's conference this week. COCOM is military jargon for combatant commanders. Their senior chaplains conclaved this week. I had the opportunity to hear their discussions and the briefings from the various flag officers and our Chief of Chaplains to them concerning today and the expected future.

I have spent many weeks, months even, in formal military education since coming on active duty. I believe the last few days was the most horizon expanding learning I have received of them all. Of course having all that previous education, and SOS just recently which explores all the various interchanges of military organization, prepared me to make sense of all that was put forward. But wow. Comprehension blooming to some degree of the macro scale of military chaplaincy throughout the world, today and tomorrow.

Leaving the Pentagon in the afternoon of the final day, it was nice, warm and sunny. Walking tends to relieve the symptoms of my particular nasty uninvited guest to whom I am playing host, so I walked back to my vehicle parked at my designated spot at Arlington. With thoughts of grand strategy still echoing through my head regarding chaplaincy in the face of grand national strategy, I happened upon one particular grave in the infamous section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery. Perhaps it was the bright contrast of reds and yellows against the pure white marble, that drew my eye, but looking downward my attention was captured by a short line of script on a weathered card attached to still bright flowers.

"Happy Birthday honey. We miss you."

Encasing my new macro orientation was this reminder: this is what a chaplain's ministry is about.

As the soldier stands in the breech between murder and peace; mayhem and security, so a chaplain stands in the gap between emptiness and meaning; between despair and hope; between surrender and faith.

Questions

I was asked several profound questions today. First, I spent some time working with some JROTC cadets at a local school as I had a bit of open time this morning. One very bright young lady approached and after asking how dangerous serving in the military truly was, asked this question, "why is there a big war any way?"

Wow. She is probably about 13 or 14 which means she was probably five or six when Sept 11th happened. I started talking to her and the kids with her. They were for the most part not aware in any way of the cultural differences between the western world or the middle east, did not comprehend the nature and size of the threat presented by Al Qaeda and other terrorist organizations nor did they really seem to have given much thought to the fact that the United States is only part of a much larger wider world. But... they were starting to be aware of greater realities, and perhaps of the great challenges facing their generation as the world continues to shrink due to globalization and other factors.

A bit later, as I was working through various medical channels to begin to clear my path for my change of duty station that is coming later this summer, I had the opportunity to speak with an airman as I was an hour or so early for an appointment. He asked me a poignant question during the context of my encouraging him to pursue his college degree and dream to be a doctor. He asked, "how can I made sense of medicine which is supposed to be about saving lives, but I may be ordered to take the life of an unborn child or use a treatment created from an unborn child --I just can't see an embryo as so many body parts?" Wow. More deep thinking by a young man in a generation that is wrestling with huge questions brought about by capabilities from our increasing technological prowess. Then he asked me a profound question, "Chaplain, if you or someone you loved were sick, would you use a treatment that required me to harvest an unborn child from someone?"

If he doesn't make a doctor, he'd make a great philosopher -- or minister. The beginning of wisdom is the asking of questions, for beliefs come easy, but truth -- that is most difficult of all - but also the most easy, for truth is what is.

All this in light of a question I've been pondering for the last week after learning that only 4% or so of the current generation sees value in going to church and reading story after story following a a study that the number of folks who find value in religion is shrinking. That question is how can I as a person of faith and how can the Christian community share the value of religious insight in a way that is respectful and will gain a hearing, that can help people not only value our Creator and Redeemer but also find value in each and every other person.

I feel like Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings as he stands in the cozy abode of his friend Bilbo's home looking off into the distance, but in truth looking into the accumulated wisdom of his life and mumbles to himself, "riddles in the dark".

In some ways I believe our nation is like these young people, one a bit younger than the other. Waking up to the greater possibilities and challenges to life in this world. And as the young airman, wrestling with question of what kind of person (or in the case of a nation: people) shall I/we be. These are all questions about belief. Even the decision to not believe in God for instance is a decision about belief. Belief systems. Whether I listen to commentary on NPR, Fox News, MSNBC (which I avoid because being a philosophy major the plethora of logical fallacies gives me heartburn in most cases depending on the commentator), CNN, or read the major news papers or even just scan comments posted by people on controversial topics, one thing jumps out at me. Competing belief systems. Name calling, labeling, all the tricks and trade of amateur and professional rhetoricians come into play in a great battle of competing belief systems. But common to most of the arguments I read, even the ones that most fit my own belief system, is a lack of humility, a lack of openess to being wrong, and even a lack of willingness to take a stand at personal cost when one is right.

It is not going to be an easy world for our young people to live in. They have substantial questions to answer, substantial challenges, probably many yet anticipated, to face and resolve. And perhaps the greatest question of all in the face of merging cultures, ideas, and increasing technological power over our environment and our own physical bodies - what sort of people shall we be. What will it mean to be "human"? Will we surrender the view that we are special, created in God's image, with each individual having value and potential upon which our nation was built for some Darwinesk battle for survival of the fittest with the weak and defenseless utilized as a resource for those who are stronger?

Our race does not have the best of track records when it comes to respecting and fostering human values consistently over the long hall. Our history if full of war and conquest, rape, and slavery.

In many ways the questions that face human beings today because of the possibilties brought about by technology in the areas of global engineering and even human bioengineering are similar to the questions our nation faced 100 years ago - and even continued to face in the struggle for civil rights - do we believe "all people are created equal" or are some to be considered as tools, raw material, resources for use by the strong.

Will we follow the way of Jesus or Nietsche or some course leaning one way or the other?

But no matter the course, in the end, for every individual person our destination is the same. As seen in the shrouded markers of Arlington above, we came from dust and to dust we shall return. Humility and perhaps gratefulness mixed with grace and kindness is the order for the day.