Veterans who have changed my life...

The old insight that "when the student is ready, the Buddha will appear" continues to ring true for me.  I've been thinking a great deal about veterans of late - active duty soldiers, those coming home after our two wars of aggression as well as retired warriors who have done battle in WWII, Korea, Vietnam and the various Gulf War excursions - and part of the reason is the PTSD and Vets study group we just brought to conclusion.  In February of this year, my church sexton shared with me a lengthy article about vets and PTSD and asked me to read it. When I was finished I asked him if we might make time to talk about it so that I might go deeper.

In addition to caring for our physical plant, you see, he is also a poet, a photographer, an ecologist and a retired Marine.  He agreed and thus began a spiritual and emotional journey into one soldier's experience with war and peace, a virulently anti-military civilian culture, the life-time consequences of becoming a warrior and what PTSD has meant for him and his extended family.  We took lots of time for this conversation.  It was not only about sharing information, but also trust.  He used to half-jokingly say, "I don't know what horrible sin you have to atone for but it is kinda weird the way God has brought us together."  Indeed, how did a former conscientious objector and ex-Marine wind up talking deeply about things that are deeper and more terrifying than words allow except through the grace of God?

When our personal study and conversation was over, I wondered if we might do something similar within the congregation - he told me he would think it over.  Going back into the old wounds in new ways would be hard, he said, as would sharing them with non-vets.  My response was that we would leave this to the Lord and if it should come to pass I would give thanks to God.  In time, he said that he would like to do a study/conversation with some members of the congregation, but he wanted to be sure only those he trusted would be a part of our trial group.  He also had a few other ground rules:  a) everyone who committed to the four week study had to agree to be present for ALL the sessions; b) each person had to  practice confidentiality; c) like veterans coming home into civilian society, we were not to speak of our experiences in the group until the class was complete; and d) we had to complete all the assigned reading.  In other words, no slackers allowed.

I then invited five people to an organizing gathering - that was my job as "priest" - and the ground rules were laid out.  By week's end, four of five said they were in and the study began.  It was intense:  video clips from Korea, documentaries from both world wars and first person articles brought a taste of war home to each of us.  We asked our colleague about his experience.  He shared some of his poetry and photographs.  We grew closer as we wept and laughed and wondered how it could be that society would ask some to offer up the ultimate sacrifice and then treat them as faceless - or worse?

One week I couldn't speak during our session - everything had turned to tears - and I had no more words.  And when it was all over we talked about what happens next:  making connections with Wounded Warrior, leading worship on Veteran's Day, engaging in a peace memorial garden.  We shall see as time flows what the Spirit asks of us.  But for now we know that we have had our hearts and minds opened to the importance of honoring vets as real peace-making for our generation.

Another reason for my reflections, in addition to our PTSD study group, is the work we have done for Veteran's Day worship.  This has in turn evoked memories of other vets I have come to know and love over the past 30 years of ministry.  In tribute to them, let me share some of the blessings I recall:

+ First was my mentor in urban ministry, the Rev. Dr. Ray Swartzback, who fought in the Battle of the Bulge.  When he came home, he discerned a call to serve God's forgotten people in urban America and went into ministry.  He was a brilliant preacher, a compassionate pastor and a deep and true friend.  He marched with Dr. King.  As the 60s flowered, he went underground in San Francisco to hang with the hippies and learn was was going on in that world.  And he mentored a host of young clergy into effective ministry in the urban context.  Ray helped me find my vision for ministry and stayed connected with me until his untimely death in early retirement.

+ Second was Al Heimburger, chair of the search committee that called me to Cleveland, and a machinist in India during WWII.  He was a gentle man of God who lead confirmation class for years.  He was a boy scout leader, a union activist and a loving family man who always found a way to let love win over rules and regulations.  Once, while walking along a small lake at a church picnic, he said that he still weeps when he remembers going to Pearl Harbor during a wedding anniversary with his wife.  "When I saw all those Japanese tourists popping pictures and swarming around the memorial... I wanted to kill them.  I still do.  I know that isn't the way of Jesus... but I can't help it."  We spoke of those feelings often, trusting that forgiveness is of the Lord, especially when we find ourselves unable.  He introduced me to Norman Novotny, who lost part of his skull in the Pacific, and Ernie Hooth who was severely wounded in France and Germany.  They were the salt of the earth who helped a young minister not only get over himself (a little bit) but also pay attention to the ties that bind rather than abstract and escoteric ideas.

+ Third, was my man Roger Brown, also from Cleveland, who I used to play guitar with when he was able.  He served in Vietnam - in the jungle - and was haunted by what he saw and had to do to survive.  For many years he self-medicated his psyche wounds with alcohol, but when I knew him he had years of sobriety under his belt.  We discovered that although we had very different Vietnam experiences, our love of the blues was deeper than what kept us apart.  We once saw John Lee Hooker in a tiny Cleveland club - Loudon Wainwright III, too.  Our last Thanksgiving in Cleveland he did a killer version of "God Bless the Child" with Dianne and I will always love him even though he has slipped away from my life.

+ Fourth, Larry Schloss, in Tucson who was drafted to Vietnam.  He was on the search committee who brought me to that great town and we've become dear friends over the years.  He was a man I could weep with - sometimes at lunch when we touched upon something deep or tender -we would both find ourselves fighting back the tears.  I've had the privilege of being with him in church renewal times, through surgeries, singing with his beloved wife Linda in our church band and celebrating the wedding of his youngest son.  Larry and Linda also made the trek from Tucson to Pittsfield last month for my 30th anniversary of ordination celebration - and the tears kept flowing. 

+ Fifth would have to be Mike Dremmel - and his wife Frances - both of whom are veterans. Michael was active duty Air Force who deployed twice to Iraq while we were in Tucson. We wrote to one another from time to time via email.  He asked me to be the one to accompany the base commander should he fall in the line of duty and his death had to be shared with his family.  I worked with his son, Sean, on God and Country awards in both Cub and Boy Scouts.  I learned of his deep integrity, his profound faith, his commitment to peace and his willingness to sacrifice himself for the well-being of others.  He changed my life and I give thanks to God that he is currently teaching military leaders in a new academic career.  Other Tucson vets would include Vernon Hayward, one of the Tuskegee airmen, Bill Lincoln and Chuck Ford, both colonels in Vietnam who returned to civilian life and worked for NPR and local schools respectively, Roger Anderson - air corp during Vietnam - who became dear to my heart (as did his family) and a host of other men who proudly served in Korea and the Gulf War conflicts.

+ And sixth is Fred Russell, retied Marine, who once served as the military advisor to the draft board in Connecticut that granted me Conscientious Objector status during the late days of the Vietnam War.  He, too, was on the Tucson search committee.  Early in the interview process, riding alone with him in the car as we returned from some meeting, he asked me about my military background noting that "there is nothing about military service on your resume."  I told him my process - registering for CO status at 18, being deferred as a student, giving up my deferment to contest my status and eventually being granted a CO classification by the Norwalk draft board - to which he smiled.  And then said, "I know... I was on that draft board."  In-freakin-credible.  We became close friends over the years and I give thanks to God for people with the depth of integrity as Fred.

And now I find myself with new colleagues in ministry at First Church - David and Don and Sue and Ted - as well as the other vets in the congregation.  Some saw combat in WW II - others were in Korea or Vietnam.  With 400,000+ military returning from our two wars of aggression in the Middle East who will be affected by PTSD - as will their families and communities - it is clear that I have met the Buddha just when I needed him the most. I have learned that those who have seen and experienced the reality of war want peace the most. They get it.  And they know that given human nature, we sometimes - maybe even often - live into our worst selves and violence erupts.  The vets I have come to know, love and respect understand that when this happens, somebody has to respond, so they give of themselves in ways I can hardly comprehend.  How did Jesus put it in John's gospel?  "Greater love have no man than this that he lay down his life for his friend?"

I am grateful for these gentle warriors.  And honored to have become trusted by then as friends.  I'll keep you posted how our peace-making here matures.