Category Archives: Loose thoughts and musings

Survivng Lent: Take advantage of the Feast Days

One of the keys to surviving Lent if you don’t do it well is to take advantage of “Feast Days.”  For those who don’t know what these are they include all Sundays in Lent as well as the feast of St Joseph husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary (19 March) and the Annunciation (25 March.) Holy or Maunday Thursday is also a feast day.  So what does this mean?  It means that you can eat and even drink so long as you are not drunk on your ass.  Now if you have given up something for Lent it doesn’t mean you can go ahead and do it, so be careful what you give up.  In practical terms this means if you are pretty strict in your Lenten observance that you can breathe a little easier.  Likewise as I have mentioned before there are other days that might qualify.  St Patrick’s day is one of them, while not a feast day in the US it is in Ireland. Since we are all Irish on St Patrick’s day we can claim it as a feast day.  Of course there are hard assed bishops who say this is a definite “no go” but I’ll bet if they had an outbreak of nasty snakes in their diocese that they wouls ask for St Patty’s help and allow the feast day.   Likewise my birthday which almost always falls in Lent can be a feast day for anyone willing to wish me well or buy me a beer. Baseball’s opening day certainly counts as a feast day, who can go without a hot dog or sausage on opening day?

On the personal side my PTSD has kicked my ass this weekend.  I was talking to a friend who also suffers it and we both can describe physical feelings associated with it.  One is what almost feels like a low voltage electrical current running through your body.  I woke up that way this morning after a sleepless and often terrifying night.  I had to medicate to get myself somewhat calm this morning.  This stuff is no joke.  There are studies to suggest that the traumas which cause PTSD actually shorts out or blows out circuits in the brain.  As we learn more about the physiology of the brain I am sure this will be borne out as further research is conducted.

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God in the Empty Places

This was written last year when I was doing a lot of soul searching and reflecting after Iraq. It was originally ran in my church’s online news service.  I post it here as i walk through this season of Lent in this time of worldwide turmoil. Please don’t forget those who serve in Iraq and Afghanistan, nor those who have served in prior wars. Especially those who who have reurned injured in mind, body or spirit and those who made the supreme sacrifice.

I have been doing a lot of reflecting on ministry and history over the past few months. While both have been part of my life for many years, they have taken on a new dimension after serving in Iraq. I can’t really explain it; I guess I am trying to integrate my theological and academic disciplines with my military, life and faith experience since my return.

The Chaplain ministry is unlike civilian ministry in many ways. As Chaplains we never lose the calling of being priests, and as priests in uniform, we are also professional officers and go where our nations send us to serve our Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen. There is always a tension, especially when the wars that we are sent to are unpopular at home and seem to drag on without the benefit of a nice clear victory such as VE or VJ Day in World War II or the homecoming after Desert Shield and Desert Storm.

It is my belief that when things go well and we have easy victories that it is easy for us to give the credit to the Lord and equally easy for others to give the credit to superior strategy, weaponry or tactics to the point of denying the possibility that God might have been involved. Such is the case in almost every war and Americans since World War Two have loved the technology of war seeing it as a way to easy and “bloodless” victory. In such an environment ministry can take on an almost “cheer-leading” dimension. It is hard to get around it, because it is a heady experience to be on a winning Army in a popular cause. The challenge here is to keep our ministry of reconciliation in focus, by caring for the least, the lost and the lonely, and in our case, to never forget the victims of war, especially the innocent among the vanquished, as well as our own wounded, killed and their families.

But there are other wars, many like the current conflict less popular and not easily finished. The task of chaplains in the current war, and similar wars fought by other nations is different. In these wars, sometimes called counter-insurgency operations, guerilla wars or peace keeping operations, there is no easily discernable victory. These types of wars can drag on and on, sometimes with no end in sight. Since they are fought by volunteers and professionals, much of the population acts as if there is no war since it does often not affect them, while others oppose the war.

Likewise, there are supporters of war who seem more interested in political points of victory for their particular political party than for the welfare of those that are sent to fight the wars. This has been the case in about every war fought by the US since World War II. It is not a new phenomenon. Only the cast members have changed.

This is not only the case with the United States. I think that we can find parallels in other militaries. I think particularly of the French professional soldiers, the paratroops and Foreign Legion who bore the brunt of the fighting in Indo-China, placed in a difficult situation by their government and alienated from their own people. In particular I think of the Chaplains, all Catholic priests save one Protestant, at the Battle of Dien Bien Phu, the epic defeat of the French forces that sealed the end of their rule in Vietnam. The Chaplains there went in with the Legion and Paras. They endured all that their soldiers went through while ministering the Sacraments and helping to alleviate the suffering of the wounded and dying. Their service is mentioned in nearly every account of the battle. During the campaign which lasted 6 months from November 1953 to May 1954 these men observed most of the major feasts from Advent through the first few weeks of Easter with their soldiers in what one author called “Hell in a Very Small Place.”

Another author describes Easter 1954: “In all Christendom, in Hanoi Cathedral as in the churches of Europe the first hallelujahs were being sung. At Dienbeinphu, where the men went to confession and communion in little groups, Chaplain Trinquant, who was celebrating Mass in a shelter near the hospital, uttered that cry of liturgical joy with a heart steeped in sadness; it was not victory that was approaching but death.” A battalion commander went to another priest and told him “we are heading toward disaster.” (The Battle of Dienbeinphu, Jules Roy, Carroll and Graf Publishers, New York, 1984 p.239)

Of course one can find examples in American military history such as Bataan, Corregidor, and certain battles of the Korean War to understand that our ministry can bear fruit even in tragic defeat. At Khe Sahn in our Vietnam War we almost experienced a defeat on the order of Dien Bien Phu. It was the tenacity of the Marines and tremendous air-support that kept our forces from being overrun.

You probably wonder where I am going with this. I wonder a little bit too. But here is where I think I am going. It is the most difficult of times; especially when units we are with take casualties and our troops’ sacrifice is not fully appreciated by a nation absorbed with its own issues.

For the French the events and sacrifices of their soldiers during Easter 1954 was page five news in a nation that was more focused on the coming summer. This is very similar to our circumstances today because it often seems that own people are more concerned about economic considerations and the latest in entertainment news than what is going on in Iraq or Afghanistan. The French soldiers in Indo-china were professionals and volunteers, much like our own troops today. Their institutional culture and experience of war was not truly appreciated by their own people, or by their government which sent them into a war against an opponent that would sacrifice anything and take as many years as needed to secure their aim, while their own countrymen were unwilling to make the sacrifice and in fact had already given up their cause as lost. Their sacrifice would be lost on their own people and their experience ignored by the United States when we sent major combat formations to Vietnam in the 1960s. In a way the French professional soldiers of that era have as well as British colonial troops before them have more in common with our force than the citizen soldier heroes of the “Greatest Generation.” Most of them were citizen soldiers who did their service in an epic war and then went home to build a better country as civilians. We are now a professional military and that makes our service a bit different than those who went before us.

Yet it is in this very world that we minister, a world of volunteers who serve with the highest ideals. We go where we are sent, even when it is unpopular. It is here that we make our mark; it is here that we serve our Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen. Our duty is to bring God’s grace, mercy and reconciliation to men and women, and their families who may not see it anywhere else. Likewise we are always to be a prophetic voice within the ranks.

When my dad was serving in Vietnam in 1972 I had a Sunday school teacher tell me that he was a “Baby Killer.” It was a Catholic Priest and Navy Chaplain who showed me and my family the love of God when others didn’t. In the current election year anticipate that people from all parts of the political spectrum will offer criticism or support to our troops. Our duty is to be there as priests, not be discouraged in caring for our men and women and their families because most churches, even those supportive of our people really don’t understand the nature of our service or the culture that we represent. We live in a culture where the military professional is in a distinct minority group upholding values of honor, courage, sacrifice and duty which are foreign to most Americans. We are called to that ministry in victory and if it happens someday, defeat. In such circumstances we must always remain faithful.

For those interested in the French campaign in Indo-China it has much to teach us. Good books on the subject include The Last Valley by Martin Windrow, Hell in a Very Small Place by Bernard Fall; The Battle of Dienbeinphu by Jules Roy; and The Battle of Dien Bien Phu- The Battle America Forgot by Howard Simpson. For a history of the whole campaign, read Street Without Joy by Bernard Fall. I always find Fall’s work poignant, he served as a member of the French Resistance in the Second World War and soldier later and then became a journalist covering the Nurnberg Trials and both the French and American wars in Vietnam and was killed by what was then known as a “booby-trap” while covering a platoon of U.S. Marines.

There is a picture that has become quite meaningful to me called the Madonna of Stalingrad. It was drawn by a German chaplain-physician named Kurt Reuber at Stalingrad at Christmas 1942 during that siege. He drew it for the wounded in his field aid station, for most of whom it would be their last Christmas. The priest would die in Soviet captivity and the picture was given to one of the last officers to be evacuated from the doomed garrison. It was drawn on the back of a Soviet map and now hangs in the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church in Berlin where it is displayed with the Cross of Nails from Coventry Cathedral as a symbol of reconciliation. I have had it with me since before I went to Iraq. The words around it say: “Christmas in the Cauldron 1942, Fortress Stalingrad, Light, Life, Love.” I am always touched by it, and it is symbolic of God’s care even in the midst of the worst of war’s suffering and tragedy.

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Day one in DC: Hope springs eternal

I don’t know what is going on in the world.  I know that things are bad, millions of people losing  jobs and homes in this country, while millions of others around the world suffer disease, war, famine and a plethora of plagues.  But it seems to me  that people, especially in the media, a lot of politicians and pundits are just miserable people.  They inflict their misery on everyone else by taking a bad situation and spinning it to whatever horrible end that they envision, mostly bordering apocalyptic be they religious people or not.

There are some people who in their misery long for a time in the past when things were supposedly better.  It almost seems to be that some folks want the world to return to some pristine form that it once was. For some that is the 1940s or 1950s, some the 1550s.  I understand that, there is a certain amount of comfort that we derive from the past; yet nothing stays the same, at least not in the created realm.  Yet trying to recreate a past that often is mythologized we fail to live in the real world.   The Leisure Suit will never come back.

We visited Washington DC today and will as well tomorrow.  Today my Congressman, Nick Rahall (D-WV) helped set up a wonderful time at the Capitol, that included special courtesy by his staff who helped get us around.  It was wonderful, people were genuinely friendly.  I ran into Congressional Staffers, rode an elevater with someone I recognized as a Congressman but couldn’t think of the name, a General or two, tour guides and other citizens like us who were touring the Capitol and riding around on the Metro.  I was in my Service Dress Blues and people were complimentary and thanked me for my service.  A group of Vietnam Vets and their wives who had just been to Walter Reed to visit wounded service men and women were especially nice. People were courteous everywhere, when my 86 year old aunt tripped getting on a Metro a bunch of people came to her aid.    In spite of all the hate and discontent being spewed everywhere, people were overwhelmingly friendly.  As we toured the Capitol I got a sense of the specialness of our country.  We’ve survived invasions, a terrible Civil War, racism and segragation, good and bad economic times including a Great World Wide Depression and a couple of World Wars,  the threat of nuclear devastation in the Cold War.  We;ve survived some terrible Presidents, ineffective Congressess, bad Supreme Court Decisions, Robber Barons past and present, and we still go on.

I believe now that somehow we and the world will get through these times. Our visit to DC has reinforced that belief.  I believe that because I see good people who go about doing good.  Despite our flaws we are still a great country.  Yes things change and we are changing too, the USA has been changing for well over 200 years.   This was pretty cool, may God Bless and keep our country at peace.

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Bad weather and bad drviers

Well we finally got our winter weather here in Hampton Roads.  Not much by real winter standards considering other places I have lived.  I was lucky, or maybe blessed to be at the hospital when the storm hit.  I didn’t have to commute among the Kamikazes  making life miserable on the road for their unwitting targets.  There were hundreds of crashes out there today.

I personally think that a lot of drivers here can’t drive nails much less cars. Drivers here are among the worst I have ever seen and I am backed up by statistics and we regularly rank in the top ten worst traffic areas in the country.  I cut my teeth on LA freeways and the autobahns of Germany. I do know something about driving.  Ever since Iraq I am now hyper-vigilant and really alert in traffic.  This response has kept me out of a number of sporty situations.  Last fall when driving down a city street there was a car along side of me, in fact dead even with me who decided to turn right into my lane. I caught the knucklehead out of the corner of my eye and reacted like Jack Bauer. I swerved to my left, sped up, recovered while blowing my horn in alarm.  My erstwhile assailant  then honked his horn and flipped me off. I patently returned his gesture of affection and love with a few choice colorful euphemisms about his questionable parentage and possible incestuous relationships with members of his family.  Now I do have to say that does go on my list of things that I had to mention in confession.  I once asked a priest “if they deserved it is it still a sin?” He told me yes, even though there might be mitigating factors. All kidding aside my work in a major urban trauma center allowed me to see the results in dead and mangled people who either died or were maimed by folks like these.  It’s no fun to sit with a mother and father and tell them that their kid is dead because of other people’s reckless driving.

I made a conscious decision many years ago not to put a Jesus fish or any other identification on my car that might identify me as a Christian.  I’m not ashamed of my faith, I just don’t want God getting the blame for my bad temperament on the road toward drivers like the aforementioned errant child of God.  It does really chafe my hide when I get passed by someone doing about 85-90 mph weaving down the freeway without signalling all the while yacking on their non-hands free cell phone with their Jesus fish and personalized “God” license plates standing out for all to see.  I wish some of them would hide their light under a bushel when they drive rather than letting everyone see that they really don’t care how bad that they make God and the church look.  I know that God can take care of Herself and the church has enough problems without our beloved brethren and sisteren displaying callous disregard for the rest of humanity as they drive. So my appeal to my errant brethren is if you choose to drive in such a manner, please take off the bumper stickers, Jesus fish and change your personalized plates.

This aside, I do know that God does love those that I have pointed out.  I just pray that he will not give them a car or drivers license in heaven.

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Smile as a Sacrament

In Andrew Greeley’s Bishop Blackie Ryan mystery “The Archbishop in Andalusia” the character Bishop Blackie makes a comment after celebrating Mass in the cathedral at Seville. He said “Every sacramental encounter is an evangelical occasion. A smile warm and happy is sufficient. If people return to the pews with a smile, its been a good day for them. If the priest smiles after the exchanges of grace, it may be the only good experience of the week.”  (The Archbishop in Andalusia p.77)

Today I had the wonderful privilege of sharing the Eucharistic celebration with the small congregation here at Portsmouth Naval Medical Center.  It was a joy, even for a Lenten Mass.  In fact, though I had already been at the hospital close to 29 hours I was highly energized.   I preached about making sure that what we give up for Lent or what we add to our discipline is something that we do which will cause us to love God and serve our neighbor better. Likewise doing those things that help us to live joyful lives. It was really cool.  Then as we celebrated the joy of the Eucharist and I distributed the blessed Sacrament I was, as I most always do now, share that smile as I looked at each person who came to me.  We even had a number of patients, one even in a wheelchair, brought  down by her nursing staff.  There were a lot of smiles today, so I suppose by Blackie Ryan standards it was very successful.  The rest of the day has been filled with cool encounters, sharing smiles and sharing tears with patients, families and staff.

As I noted in a previous post, my goal this Lent is to be joyful to as much of an extent as my often cynical and jaded personality will allow.  This was a good start for me too.  Pray for me a sinner!

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Living and dying

I had an epiphany last year in the midst of the onset of my post Iraq PTSD crash….”Everybody dies, but not everybody lives.”

The value of living life to the fullest really came to  me then.  I’ve seen a lot of death and destruction in my life: I’ve experienced trauma, had people shoot at me, been robbed at gunpoint, been on aircraft with mechanical problems, narrowly missed terrorist bombs and a lot of other rather “sporty” events.  Likewise I have seen death and trauma up close and personal.  Babies born too early to live, elderly people passing away after long lives, young men killed and maimed by war, children and the elderly maimed, cities and villages devastated.  I’ve seen people of all ages whose lives have ended suddenly either to disease or trauma and seen people suffer excruciating deaths.  In all of this though I have also found life in people who no matter what their circumstance choose to live and often seen the grace of God in the midst of great suffering.   It is as Alister McGrath says: “Life under the Cross.” I had one of those experiences with a Navy widow last week, who in her dying moments continued to look after those around her, thanking people, blessing people, laughing, joking, crying and praying.  I had the privilege of conducting her funeral yesterday, she was a saint.

I know that death is a reality, those who seek to deny it only deceive themselves. Even Jesus died, there is no resurrection without death first.  There is almost a death denying cult in the western world.  Many doctors cannot look someone in the eye who has a terminal illness and tell them that the illness or something related to it will kill them.  We often rely on machines to extend life well after they serve any purpose in bringing healing to the patient forgetting that the patient is a person with hopes, dreams and wishes.  Everybody dies…but how do we live?

I also know that there is injustice and poverty in the world, even in our country. I know that innocents suffer because of the choices of powerful nations and individuals, politicians, businessmen, dictators and even religious leaders.  There are times when we have to stand up to injustice, but when we do we must be in the business of reconciliation and not revenge while we advocate for the least, the lost and the lonely, those who have no one to speak for them.

I know people who for whatever reason cannot seem to enjoy life or find happiness. I know people who cannot enjoy friendship with people who are not like them and I am sad for them.  There are people of faith, who dehumanize others who don’t believe like them or live by the tenants of their particular faith. Some of these will actually kill in the name of their God and I am not simply talking about radical Islamic terrorists.  There are plenty of others from every faith tradition who do the same thing.  The Westboro Baptist “God hates Fags” crowd who disrupt funerals of fallen US Servicemen and women saying that their death is God’s judgment on them for serving the United States. They despise the nation and the sacrifices of those that they mock while enjoying the freedom that both give them.  There are people in every religion who do this sort of thing, they dehumanize the people that God has created in his image.  I have seen others who have no faith who mock those with faith and seek to deny them their rights as well.  Both radical secularists and religious radicals are willing to use the power of government to silence  or even persecute those that they disagree with.  Somehow I don’t think that this kind of life is what God intended.

My CPE supervisor during my CPE residency said something to me that resonated then, and still does today. He told me that I had to stop living my life expecting failure and heartache. He said that I could actually write much of my own future by how I look at life and chose to live in faith, hope and dreams, to believe in a good future while remaining grounded in reality.  He opened the future to me, a future full of possibility,exploration and adventure.  A future of hope, friendship and faith.

I’ve learned, and it has been an often painful learning curve, to live and appreciate life and the great gifts that God has given me.  I’ve learned to laugh and live with people and to have friendships beyond what would have been my comfort zone even a few years back.  I’ve also learned that even if I believe something with all my heart it doesn’t necessarily mean that God agrees with me. I had to learn to turn off the incessant voices in the media that seek to divide and destroy their opponents, who in the name of “debate” belittle, silence, attack, dehumanize and sometimes demonize those who disagree with them.  This doesn’t mean that legitimate differences should be pushed aside, but it is a call to civility especially for people that are entrusted with reconciling the world to God.

At dinner with General Sabah in Ramadi

At dinner with General Sabah in Ramadi

For me life has come to mean community and friendship, finding commonality while recognizing differences.   I don’t expect everyone to agree with me, but that’s okay, it is a free country.  I’ll agree to disagree but remain respectful and not become enemies just because of a difference of views. I have chosen to live in this reality.

Peace,

Steve+

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Navy “Brats”

I grew up in a Navy family. I was born in a Navy hospital, and my brother was baptized in a Navy Chapel. I went to 6 elementary schools in three states in 6 years. As a result I learned to adapt to change, make friends and at an early age, move on when we moved to our next duty station.

We grew up in the anti-military maelstrom of the 1960s and 1970s. A Sunday School teacher told me that my dad was a baby killer when he was in Vietnam,. It was a Roman Catholic Navy Chaplain that helped me keep some faith in God, and it is to him I owe my vocation as a priest and chaplain.

When Dad retired from the Navy I was not happy because I wasn’t ready for the adventure to end. I liked the new places, people and travel. Dad was really good about making sure that we got to experience something unique everywhere we went, from Corregidor in the Philippines, the outdoor life of the Puget Sound, Major League Baseball in California, and Hockey. Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm were regular attractions in Southern California. From Dad, presents from the Far East including a 10 speed bike and a pachinko machine for me.

They were good times. We took trips across country by train to visit family in the days before Amtrak, riding every major route from the West Coast to Chicago, the Great Northern-Burlington Northern “Empire Builder,” the Western Pacific “Zephyr” Southern Pacific “Daylight”, Santa Fe “Super Chief” and “El Capitan.” As we were coming home from the Philippines on a Military Transport ship, the USS John C Breckenridge, we were allowed to explore the ship and for the first time I got a sense of the sea.  Something about that voyage caused me to love the sea and ships. Growing up we were allowed to take risks, we had the chance to succeed, but also to learn about life by occasionally failing.  When dad was deployed mom took on the burden of caring for us.  That was difficult for her, but she did well.  The Navy wife and mother actually has a harder job than the deployed sailor.

There is something about being a Navy “brat.” I have been blessed to see our best friends’ boys, Jack and Alex grow up. We’ve known them since they were 4 and 8, respectively and now they are 17 and 13, or something like that. They have great senses of humor and are great to be around. Like me, the life of being a Navy brat is all they know. My first memories of being a Navy brat begin with living in the Philippines. Their dad’s first Navy assignment was in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Jack may remember life before the Navy, but Alex is too young to remember anything but the Navy.

My life has remained closely tied to the military. After dad retired I did three years of Navy Junior ROTC in High School getting to travel up and down the West Coast and to Hawaii aboard 6 different ships for about 70 days at sea. My parents hoped beyond hope that I would settle down, but I was not deterred. I joined the Army National Guard just prior to entering the UCLA Army ROTC program. I didn’t do the Navy because my fiancé, now my wife Judy, said that she would not marry me if I joined the Navy. Her oldest sister’s husband was on a ship during Viet Nam and was never home. Judy witnessed the pain and hardship her sister went through, and then a couple of decades later, her other sister married navy men while she herself was in the Navy.

So I spent 17 and a half years in the active Army, National Guard and Reserves before finally getting the chance to come in the Navy in February 1999, as I turned in my gold Army Major’s oak leaf for the twin bars of a Navy Lieutenant. Judy wasn’t happy at first, because she had been looking forward to me retiring from the Army Reserve so we would no longer have so many separations. Judy was also less than thrilled because remembering her words about the Navy when we were dating, I didn’t consult her. I just signed on the dotted line. It took her a while to come to terms with this decision. I’ve also learned not to make major decisions without consulting her Oh well…It has all been good.

I now serve at Portsmouth Naval Medical Center. Often in the ICU I have patients who are about my parents’ age facing major health crisis’s and sometimes end of life issues. Their kids are often my contemporaries. We have shared a similar life and cultural experience as Navy “Brats” of our era. There is a kinship that I have with these families that transcends the here and now, something that binds Navy families together. I have no idea when this grand adventure will end, but one thing is for sure, and for this I will always be grateful, to be a Navy Brat.

my-tom-clancy-look5

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Friends

It is interesting when you have traveled a fair amount and lived in quite a few places you get to know a lot of people from across the social, political, racial and religious spectrum.  I was looking on my facebook page a couple of weeks back and noticing the diversity of my friends and realizing that in some cases it would not be a good thing to have some of them in the same room as each other. Despite this somehow I stand in the intersection of all of them.   I guess one thing I’ve learned, often the hard way, is that you can have friendships and care about people even when you have disagreements with them, even serious disagreements.  My friends include conservatives and liberals, Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians and Independents; Christians from across the spectrum, Catholic and Protestant, Orthodox and Evangelical, Social Gospel and Fundamental, Charismatic and anti-Charismatic, Latter Day Saints, Seventh Day Adventists, Oneness Pentecostals, Particular Baptists, Calvinists, Wesleyans, Premillenial Dispensationalists, Amillenialists, Jews, Moslems, Buddhists, Hindus, Pagans and Wiccans.  Heterosexuals, Homosexuals, anti-Homosexual activist and Pro-Homosexual activists, pro-Lifers and pro-Choicers, militarists and pacifists, capitalists, socialists, environmentalists, industrialists; progressives, traditionalists, white, black, Asian and Hispanic, people from Europe, Africa, the Middle East, Korea, Japan and China, India, and Central America, Mississippi and Manhattan, California and Carolina, Dallas and Detroit.   Doctors, lawyers, priests, rabbis and imams; Protestant ministers, labor leaders, teachers, preachers, pundits, poets, politicians, professors and prosecutors; bureaucrats, technocrats, kleptocrats; geeks, freaks, sailors, jailers, whalers, runners, gunners, fighters, riders, sky divers, scuba divers, truck drivers; guitar players, ball players, naysayers; free thinkers, beer drinkers,  thrill seekers and Methodists.

In all of this, each in their own way are my friend, some closer than others, but friends none the less. We shared good times and bad, encouraged each other prayed for each other, laughed together, cried together and even shared some good beer with each other.   We’ve agreed and disagreed, and agreed to disagree.  Yet we are all friends and each has added something to my life.  I think Jesus said it well, when he said, “I no longer call you strangers but friends.”

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