Tag Archives: Religion

April 20, 2009 · 21:05

How can a Opening Day Rain Out be God’s Will?

Tonight was where I need to take exception with Saint Augustine and John “no I’m not having fun” Calvin.  Now I have to admit that I am not a very good Augustinian or Calvinist unless perchance it suits me at the time.  Where I really have a problem with them in in the subject of Predestination.  Now before all the hyper-Calvinists or neo-Augustinians get their panties in a wad or knickers in a twist, I am not referring to the subject of salvation, election, double predestination, or even double secret predestination.  These subjects were argued between my fellow students back in seminary until I wanted to throw up.

I figure that the Deity Herself is not stupid and since She created everything, of course in cooperation with Jesus and the Holy Spirit…I am after all certainly an orthodox Trinitarian in such maters, I figure that She knows who are Hers.  Where I do however differ with the former party animal (Augie)  and frustrated lawyer (John Boy) is in the matter of how this applies to baseball.

Tonight was an interesting night.  I got to the parking lot and the heavens opened.  For 30 minutes rain came down in buckets.  There was lightening and thunder, but the storm passed.  The tarp was rolled away from the field but the infield was in great shape.  However the umpires ruled that the outfield was unplayable.  Now I have been to plenty of games at Harbor Park and seen much worse conditions which were ruled playable.  Obviously this was a case of the Devil’s mischief and not a case of God’s will.  For had Calvin and Augie known about Baseball and the fact that it is the preferred sport of the Almighty, they could not have made such statements about Predestination.  Certainly a rain out of a home opener cannot be God’s will.  I am actually predisposed to believe that the postponement or cancellation of any Baseball game is not the will of God but the work of the Devil.  Now I am not one to give the Devil a lot of credence, because I believe that Christ has defeated him.  Likewise I am not one to find a Demon behind every bush.  However, to be sure, for God to to taunt us with beautiful weather on opening night after a deluge of the type that we experienced was not the work of God.  Indeed this opening day rain out  had to be the Devil’s work.  I remember opening day of 2005 when the weather was 38 degrees at game time, the field wet and winds blowing 20-30 Mph with gusts to 50 mph from Center Field.  That game was played, and numerous others in awful conditions.

I guess there can be a caveat in this, perhaps if the Giants or the Tides are behind in a game and it is before it becomes official that might be the work of the Deity herself, spot of Divine intervention as when Jesus turned the water into Ale (the Saxon translation) at the wedding at Cana.  Of course such speculation leads to certain irregularities and inconsistency on belief, however, one has to take such matters in stride and simply trust God.  Humm…trusting God, what a concept.  I think I’ve read something about that before.  Maybe my time in seminary actually has paid off.

Anyway, there is always tomorrow.  My ticket can be used in another game, which means that I will be able to take someone  with me sometime.  The beauty of the season ticket is that if you miss a game for any reason you can exchange it for another game.  I think that I will have a number of opportunities to take friends to games this year, as I am sure that the Devil will work to keep me from this wonderful gift of God. Tomorrow I go out again, same time, same seat, but hopefully better weather.

Peace,  Steve+

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April 7, 2009 · 20:30

So this is it what it feels like to be the Anti-Christ…Cool

Note: I received a reply from a Jehovah’s in reply to my “Saturday Morning Distractions…” post from a Witless Witness, defending, or witnessing to his faith.   While I appreciated his input, I have to say that is was long, pedantic and didn’t make much sense, even from a Witness point of view. It was just a conglomeration of quotes from witness literature and their extra special “New World Translation”  of the Bible.  It was very Karaoke. In other words my inner Simon Cowell dictator couldn’t in good conscience approve it.  Now I’m open to criticism and dialogue, but this was just not up to par.  If the gentleman is out there and wants to reply, send me another, shorter and too the point response, not a diatribe. As for his post it was rather weak. As Anne Robinson would say: “Sorry. you are the weakest link…Goodbye.” Try again my friend, a little more work and maybe your post will be seen, but then again maybe not.

Today was really cool.  I have discovered what it is to be the Anti-Christ….well at least to Jehovah’s Witnesses.  Of course this is an honor that I do not take lightly, and in fact do not assume alone.  All of us who are Christian ministers of any denomination, liberal or conservative are Anti-Christ. This is especially of Priests of any type, yours truly included.  It’s kind of strange, since all of us Christian ministers regardless of denomination are at least part of the Anti-Christ.  It’s kind of like how Christians talk about the Body of Christ having many members, only the opposite, the body of Anti-Christ having many members.  So all of us in the Body of Anti-Christ need to stick together.  It’s tough to do this alone.

Not only am I the Anti-Christ to the Witnesses because I am a Priest, but I am also, by virtue of being a commissioned officer of the government, I am a servant of Satan because all worldly Powers are his servants. I guess that this makes me part of the  Witness “Axis of Evil.”   Throw in my love for a really good beer and working in a hospital ICU that routinely gives blood transfusions and I am a top level bad guy.  It’s almost like being Osama Bin Laden, only worse. I find this cool that a group could think so highly of me. If only they could send me to hell, but wait, they don’t have hell, just damnation through annihilation.

Of course damnation for the Witnesses is kind of lame.  Those who are faithful Witnesses, the 144,000 or those left picking fruit and petting animals for eternity get to avoid Armageddon and annihilation.  For the rest of us, especially those of the Anti-Christ caste, it’s simply annihilation, poof and it’s done.  That’s lame.  There is no eternal Lake of Fire, no brimstone, no eternal punishment, torture or any of the things that give Hell its own particular ambiance. Dante would not be impressed.

Now when I think of hell I am drawn to the Lake of Fire imagery.  You take heat and humidity and combine them, like summer in Louisiana on steroids for eternity, and that is my image of hell. I hate heat and humidity.  Add to it Demons who are like super-sized mosquitoes on pro-wrestling kind of really great ‘steroids and that would suck.  Add to this the horrible clothes, sackcloth and ashes, and the lack of a good wifi-fi connection or cell phone coverage and hell really is hell.  Simply being annihilated is easy, really no punishment at all, especially when the alternative is working in orchards and petting animals for eternity.  That’s like being sentenced to being a migrant worker with your lovable dog in a San Joaquin Valley Orange grove in the heat of the summer. Perfect world or not, that blows, especially if you worked you ass off to get to real heaven only to get bounced by someone that you converted.

This goes back to the odds of a faithful Witness getting into heaven.  With approximately 6 million living Witnesses fighting for 144,000 slots, the chance of getting in is pretty low.  Even not counting the millions of Witness who have already passed on, only 2.4% get to real heaven.  If you add the guys who got in at the beginning the odds have to be well under 1% of all Witness who get to go to real heaven.  Of course those who do are really special.  They get to rule the world.  The world that they get to rule consists of lower performing Witnesses, orchards and domesticated animals.  In other words you have 144,000 bosses ruling over a Zoo, an Orange grove and it’s pissed off attendants who thought that they were going to be where you are. No wonder there is another revolt in the Book of Revelation, that would positively suck.

So to all my brother and sister Christian ministers and Anti-Christs I send you my regards.  You are not alone, we are one Body, one spirit in Anti-Christ.  Take heart, we’re in this together.

Peace, Steve+

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April 6, 2009 · 22:59

Holy Week Superstitions

Holy Week is a funny thing for me.  While I generally look forward to Easter, I always have a sense of foreboding.  I think this actually goes back to childhood.  Family members dying around the time, major events and crisis’s that unfold.  My dad was in Vietnam during Easter 1972 when the North Vietnamese launched their offensive.  So I guess that I’m somewhat superstitious. This week a dear friend lost her father to cancer.  My own parents are not in great shape. My dad lost 7 pounds this month and weighs under 120 pounds.  He is doing worse and worse.

I was talking with one of our attendings today who reminded one of the nurses what weekend was coming up.  She asked why, and he said, think about it, something bad almost always happens around Easter. I patently concurred with the good doctor. My experience in other hospitals always involved really tragic events. It seems that something tragic always happens, a mass murder, a series of tornadoes that wipe out whole towns, fires that kill families, Tsunamis and other events.  This week there has been a killer earthquake in Italy.  I am not alone in the way that I feel. Snopes.com even has a page devoted to Easter superstitions.

So with a twinge of anxiety I face this week.  I do look forward to what this week means. Maunday Thursday, Good Friday and Easter.  I will celebrate each, but at the same time I feel strange. I hope that this is just a bit of PTSD and nothing more.  May everyone experience the joy that Easter  should bring and I pray that no disasters overtake anyone this year. Peace, Steve+

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April 5, 2009 · 22:16

Lenten Journal: Passion Sunday

Lent has been interesting this year.  I did a number of things different. First off I decided that I would try to be happy and not morose.  It seemed to have worked, with few exceptions my mood has definitely been better.

This year I decided to be less concerned with the physical and dietary aspects of Lent.  I actually needed to do this this year. Physically and emotionally I was not as good off as I have been in years past.  As far as Lent was concerned, I had become a slave to the season. Lent had become something to be endured, not enjoyed. Where in the past I would have done things out of a legalistic mindset and obeyed simply because it was written, I did not this year.  This meant I occasionally got a bit of meat on Wednesdays and Fridays. But again, this was not because I was simply defying the rules, I can do that well if I need to, after all I’m a Myers Briggs INTJ, rules need not always apply if they are not helpful.   But I had to do this now, because I had, like the Pharisees before me put the observance of the rules higher than my relationship with Jesus.

Spiritually, because of my emotional state I decided to let go of the daily office for Lent, and Lent only. I will be going back to it on Easter Sunday.  What had happened was that in my rigid adherence to doing it I was grinding myself down to spiritual dust.  I was not reflecting on the Gospels or other readings, I was just doing them.  I was spiritually exhausted. Prayer was becoming forced and rote. I knew that if I continued in this manner I would not be any good for anyone.  Instead of this I simply began to pray on my way to work, and my way home and when I went to bed.  I never prayed for me except in regard to being able to care for others. Sometimes an Our Father, or a Hail Mary, maybe a recitation of a couple of decades of the Rosary, maybe extemporaneous intercessions for people that I know.  Sometimes just a simple thank you to God, after all She does deserve to be thanked at least once in a while.

As far as prayer goes and seeing answers, I guess I am a bad fit in a “Charismatic” church.  I believe that God can heal people. But there were many times early in my hospital ministry that most of the people that I prayed for died.  Talk about having a complex….When I was asked if I would pray for someone I would hesitate.  I would sometimes want to ask  “Are you really sure that you want me to do this?”  Today, working in ICUs and critical care I approach prayer from a glass half-empty or there is something wrong with the glass point of view.  I am not a Pollyanna type of person.  Somewhat jaded, I can be like the Chaplain version of House MD. Yet at the same time I’ve been surprised by Her grace during this Lent.  Things that jaded ICU attending physicians and I but can only chalk up to something really unusual. Possibly even miraculous and maybe even done by the Deity Herself.  Thus this Lenten season has been marked with spiritual surprises.

Instead of beating myself to death to observe rules that were forced on us when it became easy to be a Christian following Constantine (See an earlier Lenten post here), this Lent I decided the Lent let the Deity work Her grace in me.  I decided to get out more and take part more in the life of a local parish. This has been hard since we moved here. I travelled a lot in connection with my assignments and after Iraq I got really wierd about being in crowds of people and really sensitive to noise and light. My wife belongs to a really cool Roman Catholic parish near us, but since Iraq it is just too much for me.  It is big and like I said,  large crowds of people that I don’t know, often unfamiliar worship music and too much exposure to noise and light really get to me. That’s the damned thing about PTSD, it makes simple stuff hard. I used to go to mega-churches, and now the bigger the church the scarier for me.  So I met a wonderful Episcopal Priest, Fr John,  over at the hospital who is the Rector of Saint James Church in Portsmouth.  We became friends. He invited me and I decided to to crawl out of my protective shell that I have lived inside spiritually since Iraq.  The Church is historic, it is the African American church, many of the parishioners had ancestors that were slaves, or who were themselves part of the civil rights movement. Many are prominent in the life of the city. These folks love Jesus and a lot are connected in some way with the military.  The church itself is not large, but is caring and involved in the life of the community.  The Gospel is proclaimed in word and deed.    Since my small denomination has nothing anywhere near me, this has become my local home and I hope to grow in community with these wonderful people of God over the coming years.

Today of course was Passion Sunday. We began with the Liturgy of the Palms outside the church and moved inside singing as we went.  There is nothing like a “high church” primarily African American Episcopal choir that can do both traditional and majestic hymns as well as spirituals and Gospel.  We followed with the Liturgy of the Passion followed by Eucharist.  The service cemented some things that God has been doing in me since I came back from Iraq, and what God has been working in me this season.

I hope that as I celebrate Maunday Thursday and Good Friday services at the Medical Center that God will continue that work in me, and hopefully in some way touch others with Her grace.  For once I am really looking forward with anticipation to Holy Week, for I am not alone.

Peace, Steve+

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April 4, 2009 · 22:05

Saturday Morning Distractions-Jehovah’s Witnesses at the Door

molly-and-daddy Me and Molly, Canine Terrorist and defender of the Realm reading my blog.

The morning was quiet, too quiet.  I had taken a leisurely light breakfast of Kellogg’s Special K with cinnamon and pecans and sliced fresh bananas, with my Dunkin Donuts French Vanilla coffee with non-fat french vanilla creamer.  Laptop on my lap and dog at my side I perused Facebook, read my favorite comics and scanned my home town newspaper’s obituaries and crime beat sections.  What better way of keeping track of old acquaintances? The morning seemed ideal. Then it changed.

Placidly laying next to me on the couch after finishing off the residue of the milk from my cereal bowl, my little canine terrorist exploded into action, alerting me to the danger at hand.   I had not heard anything, in fact I am not sure if the unwelcome visitors even had time to push the doorbell or knock. However my little shit was now at the door barking furiously as she bounced up and down her hackles raised.

Dislodging my laptop from my lap I rushed to the door yelling “MOLLY DAMMIT SHUT THE HELL UP OR I GET THE BOTTLE!”  The “bottle” is what we call the “Molly Bottle” a small spray bottle filled with water with which we soak the little shit when she fails to obey when people come to the door.  As I got to the door I moved her back and opened the door just a bit, leaning over to keep an eye on her while seeing who was at the door. My eyes spied a woman with a book bag with an Awake magazine, while Molly charged the glass storm door barking furiously. Looking up I simply said “Go away or the dog will eat you.” and closed the door.  Satisfied Molly trotted back to the living room. Judy said “Did you punish her her for disobeying?”  As Molly and I each got back on the couch and Molly moved next to me, I said “no, but I almost told her that she was a good girl.” Judy, looking disgusted said “I think that you just did.” Molly wagged.  All was right in her little world and peace returned to our quiet abode.

Now let me get this straight.  This is not a hit piece on the Witnesses.  They have every right to waste their Saturdays bothering people who just want to be left alone, like yours truly.  I just don’t get it though.  When I was a young person I would attempt to counter-evangelize them as they came to the door, since of each pair one is always in training.  Giving up on that as I got older I would politely tell them that I was not  interested.  As I have gotten even older and come back from Iraq my resentment for anyone ignoring our doormat which plainly states: “We love our vacuum, we found God, and we gave at the office,” has become palpable.  I don’t want to be bothered by the Witnesses, vendors or any other solicitors.  I will however give the young Mormon missionaries a nice greeting as one of their Army Chaplains saved my ass and career when I was a young chaplain. He is now the denomination endorsing agent. Both Judy and I provide these young men with his contact info should they desire to enter the military as a chaplain. They are usually surprised by our friendliness and leave somewhat perplexed.

What I don’t get about the Witnesses is the illogic of their whole system.  Now I know that atheists say this about all religions.  But as one who believes firmly in the Deity,as expressed in both in the Apostle’s and Nicene Creeds, I just don’t go around knocking other people who believe in God for the fun of it.  I do respect the beliefs of others even if I disagree with them.  I believe in our country that we have a wonderful history of tolerance for wide variations of religious practices, and that this tolerance is good for everyone. I will not mess with the Witnesses gooned up understanding of the Godhead, hackneyed translation of the Bible, the many times they have predicted the Second Coming and missed, or their somewhat odd social customs or limitations on medical care here.  I will only focus on the odds of going to real heaven if you join them.

Like I said, I just don’t get it.  The Witness system is one that if you join you will be destined to fail to make the grade.  There is no way around this cold fact. The Witness only believe that 144,000 will get to top level, real heaven.  The rest of them, number 144,001 and higher will end up petting animals and picking fruit on a perfect earth.  Unbelievers are simply annihilated, do not pass Hell and do not collect $200.  The Mormons have a much better deal, if you are a male Mormon who has done all the right Mormon stuff you get to be God of your own planet.  Now I have no desire to be God, far too much work and trouble if you ask me, but a pretty good deal if they are right about this stuff.  For the Mormons good religious folks get to second level eternal life, especially if they have been baptized by proxy by a Mormon friend or relative. Real scum get to go to hell.

Let’s face it.  If there have been millions and millions of Witnesses since they came into being and only 144,000 boat spaces in heaven, then the odds are stacked against you for getting in.  Since you acquire points by bringing other people in you are in effect creating more competition for those slots.  Not really a good idea if you ask me, not that I’m selfish or anything.  Now let’s suppose that you became a Witness, handed out tons of Watchtower and Awake magazines and ushered in gazillions of other people into the faith.  Let’s say that you did enough to break into the top level.  You work your way up to 144,000 and then pass away.  You got in  right?  Not so fast.  Joe Schmuckatelli the lapsed Catholic that you converted the week before you passed away got serious about his new found faith.  He really hustled and was a superstar, the guy was a hall of fame Witness converting half the population of Salt Lake City to the faith.  Hey, I said he was an all star, he even out hustled the Mormons on their home field.  Old Joe not only gets in, but by getting into the top tier he bumps you out.  It’s just not right, its unfair.  You work you ass off and end up picking fruit and petting animals for all eternity.  That just blows.

Anyway, thank God for my little canine terrorist.  Peace, Steve+

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March 29, 2009 · 20:15

Bull Durham- Crash Davis and Journeymen Like Me

I’ve always related to the characters in Kevin Costner’s baseball films, Bull Durham, Field of Dreams and For the Love of the Game. The main characters in each of the films touch me each in a different way.

The character of Crash Davis strikes a particular chord in me.  Crash is a journeyman minor league catcher with the dubious distinction of having the most minor league homers. He also played by the way 3 weeks in “the show. ”   He is a consummate professional, loves the game and actually cares about the development of the young guys, even if they try his patience.  His dealings with Ebby Calvin “Nuke” LaLooche (Tim Robbins) is case in point.  Crash is demoted by the big team from a AAA contract to a single A contract to develop the young bonus baby.  He’s not happy with the job, he’s proud, but he takes it on with a mixture of skill and humor in a manner that benefits not only the young pitcher but motivates the rest of the team.  It does not matter that he is in the minor leagues as he still plays his heart out and spends his time teaching the next generation.  He even gets thrown out of a games if it helps motivate his team and let’s his young charge learn the hard way when young “Nuke” decides to ignore his advice.

My life is like a journeyman ball player.  I started in the Army,and to use the baseball journeyman analogy I played one position for a number of years and then so to speak left the big team to train for a new position while playing in the minors.  When I graduated from seminary and becoming a National Guard and Reserve Chaplain  while doing my hospital residency and first hospital chaplain jobs it was like working my way up through the minors.  When I was promoted to the rank of Major in the Army Reserve it was like moving up to Triple A ball.  When I got mobilized it was like getting promoted to the majors.  When that time ended and I returned to the reserve it was like being sent back to the minors.  I honestly thought that I would spend the rest of my career there, maybe getting called up for brief periods of time but knowing that my career was destined to end in the minor leagues.  That changed when I was given a chance to go into the Navy.  I reduced in rank and came in with no time in grade meaning that I was starting from scratch with a new slate.  Now all of my experience was still there, but I was starting over.  It was like when a player gets traded between from the American League to the National League in mid season, or is called up from the minors to play on the big team.  His slate is clear, it is a new start.

I’ve been blessed, I got a chance to go back and live my dream serving as an active duty Navy Chaplain.  I’ve gotten to serve on ship and with the Marines and EOD.  I’ve travelled the world and I’ve gone to war.  I’m not the same as I was as when I started.  I have issues, maybe even the full subscription.  I have streaks where I am hot and when I am not, I have my slumps.  I’m somewhat superstitious but I make do.  However, what drives me now is twofold; first to care for those in my ICUs, patients, families and staff.  Second to help the young guys and gals along.  I’ve been in the military since before many of them were born.  In a sense I’m a Crash Davis kind of guy.  I love the movie and the character. I hope we can all find something or someone to help connect us to what we do in life.  Somehow in Her grace the Deity allows me to find this in baseball.

Peace, Steve+

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March 26, 2009 · 21:05

The Wacky World of Televangelists Part One: The Networks

Author’s Note: This post is in jest…I’m tired and feeling somewhat silly after a pretty tiring week. The views here are not meant to offend anyone, although I know that they will, maybe someone will honor me with a virtual effigy.  At least I will not be nasty, just sort-of witty.  I worked for a TV ministry in seminary, and as far as these types of ministries go I think that the man does some good.  The job exposed me to a lot of good people.  The evangelist had an outreach to many pastors who had been destroyed by their churches and I ended caring for these folks for about two and a half years. The ministry helped my seminary tuition and proved badly needed medical insurance.  I did not get rich by any means, the pay was not great, but the hours and their flexibility to meet my full time school needs were incredibly gracious.  I also saw how some people suck up to people in powerful ministries, learned a bit about the policies of a couple of major Christian TV networks as well as how some of the  most popular TV preachers treat common people, not well.  The guy I worked for was decent to regular folks, he went to the church that I went to and didn’t force himself there.  However I wonder about the wisdom of proliferating TV ministries which use up vast sums of money in an incredibly expensive medium. My little hair brained view is that this money might be used by real in the flesh type missionaries, churches trying to build to meet their congregation and community ministry needs and for social ministries of all forms that care for the least, the lost and the lonely. Please know that I do not oppose TV ministries on principle, for some people, especially those too isolated or physically inable to attend their churches these are a good thing and some good programing that on occasion is actually theologically okay.  So in good fun I present “The Wacky World of Televangelists Part One: The Networks.”

This for me is my version of Mr.Blackwell’s list.  TV ministers are a fascinating breed.  Hair styles, clothes, manner of speech, facial expressions and elaborate sets make them fun to watch.  On the rare occasion I cannot find a ball game, Seinfeld, The Simpsons, MASH, House, Monk, Family Guy or a good WBC-MMA match they can be an interesting diversion from the bad news pumped out by CNN, MSNBC and FOX News.  I guess that doesn’t leave much time to watch them. However, on those rare occasions that I do watch I can be strangely transfixed by what I see. This of course is an experience made more enjoyable after a few beers.  It’s like getting caught in Dracula’s gaze, once there it can be hard to escape, thank God I keep a ready supply of Holy Water nearby.

Today I deal with the big networks.  First is the Trinity Broadcasting Network, TBN, or as I affectionately refer to it as the Terrible Blond Network.  This is the largest and most powerful of the networks.  Spanning the globe TBN promotes a ministry heavily weighted to ministers of Charismatic and Pentecostal backgrounds.  However it also airs programs of mainline Evangelicals, popular African American ministers, Messianic groups and odds and ends of others including Billy Graham classics.  Sometimes they show some really old classic religious movies.  The most remarkable thing about TBN is the set decoration, which for the flagship program can best be described as an Ecclesiastical Bordello look. It is kind of a blend of overdone Louis the XIV palace and whorehouse.  Ornate gold furnishings, elaborate decor and a host wearing what appears to be a velor smoking jacket, sometimes a purple one. emblazoned with the ministry crest, which looks like European Royalty. The Dallas network branch was built to look like the White House. When I commuted to Dallas for my residency I would drive by it every day.  It is not far from Texas Stadium where Cowboys fans believe that God herself resides. Those were the days of President Bill Clinton and I was tempted to get one of the Clinton cardboard life size cut out and have my my picture taken outside of it.  Maybe now I should have Judy photo shop a picture of me and President Obama in front of it.  Getting back to style, the hair of women guests is big and often blond, when not blond, big   Make up and mascara mix with tears a la Tammy Faye as praise reports and Financial gifts are announced.   The founder, Paul Crouch and his wife Jan have been on the air about 85 years I think, they were pioneers in this medium. This is an eclectic network where a diversity of different points of view co-exist, even when they are diametrically opposed to one another. Score one for tolerance.   However, the appeals for monetary donations are pretty heavy especially every few months when they run the Praise-a-Thon for about two weeks.  This is an over-the-top fund raising show, kind of like the NPR fund raising on major league steroids.  Gifts for donations can be really fun, like a picture of Jesus returning that looked like it was out of a Sci-Fi magazine, fire coming from his eyes like something in a horror movie.  It could have been a little to literal for me, if I had my choice I would be like Ricky Bobby and deal with Baby Jesus. Back in my day in the TV ministry our programs had to be edited during the Praise-a-Thon for TBN so our appeals would not detract from their efforts.

Other major networks include the Christian Broadcasting Network, CBN founded by Pat Robertson, Baptist minister with Charismatic leanings and former Presidential candidate.  Pat’s sets are very tasteful in comparison to those of TBN. They are like a living room and a lot less pretentious.  It seems that he and his co-hosts on the 700 Club try to appeal to people like regular people.  The network is associated with Regent University which though very conservative are a pretty well ranked and regionally accredited school.  It has an undergrad school as well as Schools of Theology, Law and Communications.  CBN is connected with our sponsors conservative political, social and humanitarian outreaches such as Operation Blessing which provides humarian aid around the world.  It’s monetary appeals tend to be more suave than TBN. The most remarkable thing about the program are Pat’s facial expression when he prays and his yearly predictions from God.  This year’s prediction warmed the hearts of Democrats and chaffed Republicans, he said that God said that President Obama’s policies would help a turn economy around in the second half of the year.  Unlike other guys Pat wasn’t prophesying the end of the world as we know it or that the Cubs would win the Worlds Series. As all baseball fans know this would bring about Jesus’ return.  This of course is Padre Steve’s eschatology and patently breathed by the lips of the Deity Herself.

Another network which is both more Charismatic and Pentecostal is the Inspiration Network or INSP. It was  founded by Pentecostal evangelist Morris Cerello and continued by his son.  This network in style tends to be a bit less high-falutin than TBN and often includes visits to local church venues.  The preaching and music on this network seek to overcome obstacle of quality with noise and light.  I wish sometimes that there was no verse about making a joyful noise in the Bible.  These people take that command far to literally.   The appeal for money is always there and pretty in your face.  The Cerello’s are like from New York or Jersey or something and they kind of look like Bible Thumping Mafia hit men, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

In my effort to be inclusive and ecumenical I do have to mention the Roman Catholic entry to the field, the Eternal Word Television Network, or EWTN. I haven’t came up for a cute name for this network yet but give me time.  The network was founded by Mother Angelica, a nun and based out of Alabama. I understand that her ministry complex in some respects resembles Vatican City with BBQ and Wings on the side. I hear that it is a pilgrimage site for Traditionalists. Although they are in Alabama there are no NASCAR ads on EWTN, too bad, they really should combine the two.  I think it would be way cool to have the Nuns sponsor a NASCAR race car maybe in conjunction with Hooters, you can’t get any more traditional than that.  This network is a lot more subdued than its Charismatic and Evangelical kin.  This is so because the theological leanings are to the right of Pope Pius X, the Patron of the Society of Saint Pius X, an ultra conservative group that broke from Rome and whoese excommunicated Bishops were rehabilitated by Pope Benedict XVI this year.  They are traditionalist to the hilt.  They are exceptionally evangelical in regard to their programing. There are programs on Catholic theology, spirituality and apologetics.  Guests are often conservative Catholic academics, so you can actually learn something from these guys. EWTN hosts the Coming Home Network which is designed to convince Protestants to come to Rome.  While I am a proponent of the Catholic Faith, this is in some respects akin to sheep-stealing, especially in their appeal to search Protestant, especially Evangelical Protestant pastors. These men are often enticed with the possibility of becoming Roman Catholic Priests; a lofty goal that few ever attain.  Most leave their Protestant ministries and never it make it through the Catholic formation process.  They end up as laymen, sometimes doing work in the church, but often left with nothing in comparison to the ordained ministries that they left.  The few that do make it are not permitted to be parish pastors by Canon Law and remain in education or some other supporting ministry, sometimes as an associate pastor.  There is one who became a Priest and serves as an Army Chaplain.  He is an outstanding priest and excellent chaplain and a poster boy for this group.  However he is the exception.  Back to the Network.  The decor is a throwback to more traditional times, Mother Angelica and her nuns wear an old fashioned full habit and daily Mass is shown.  The appeals for money are similar to other networks but obviously must be vetted through the local diocesan bishop.

That’s it for the Networks.  Part Two will include some funy observations, mostly of style and presentation of various popular TV evangelists.

In all good humor, Peace Steve+

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March 23, 2009 · 21:26

God Speaks to Me Through Baseball

I went to Harbor Park to pick up my tickets for the Baltimore Orioles and Washington Nationals exhibition game today.  For me it feels like life is returning, winter in all of its bleakness is ending and spring really is here.  The seats are great, section 102 row A, right behind home plate field level.

For me something sets baseball apart from all other sports.  I think this goes back to my childhood when my dad made me learn the fundamentals of the game and weather we were attending a game in person, watching one on television or playing catch, pepper or practicing infield or pitching dad was all about the game.  Of course he was the same way with football, hockey and basketball, but the sport that he seemed most passionate about was baseball.  As a kid he was a Cincinnati Reds fan.  His mother, my grandmother who hailed from the hollers of West Virginia was a die hard Dodgers fan.  That I still wonder about to this day, but she was the same woman who as a widow in the late 1930s went to work, raised her two boys and bought her own house.  Unlike most of the sate she was also a Republican, long before West Virginia ever voted for for either President or statewide office.  Now that I chased that rabbit down the hole back to baseball.   Granny was a Dodgers fan in a land of Reds, Indians and Pirates fans, fierce and independent but unfortunately taken in by the power of the dark side.  Yet any time you went to Granny’s house and there was a game on, the television was tuned in to it.  We were immersed in baseball.

Dad alsways made sure that we got to see baseball wherever we lived. In 1967 he took us to see the Seattle Pilots which the next year went to Milwaukee and became the Brewers.  In the elementary schools of those days our teachers who put the playoff and World’s Series games as many were played during daylight hours.  I remember watching Bob Gibson pitch when the Cardinals played against the Red Sox in the 1967 series.  It was awesome to see that man pitch.   I remember the Amazin’ Mets upsetting the Orioles in 1969 and the Orioles take down the Reds in 1970.  Who could forget the 1970 All Star Game where Pete Rose ran over Ray Fosse at home plate for the winning run and the great dynasty teams of the 1970s, especially the Reds and the Athletics who dominated much of that decade and the resurgence of the Yankees in the summer that the Bronx burned.

When were were stationed in Long Beach California dad had us at Anaheim stadium all the time.  I imagine that we attended at least 30 games there and a couple at Dodger stadium that year.  We met a lot of the players and I entered the m”My Favorite Angel” contest and my entry was a runner up, netting me two seats behind the plate and having Dick Enberg announce my name on the radio.  I wrote about Jim Spencer a Gold Glove First Baseball who later played for the Yankees.  I still have a hat from that team with numerous autographs on the inside of the bill including Sandy Alomar, Jim Spencer, Jim Fregosi, Chico Ruiz and Billy Cowan.  When we moved to northern California we got to see the A’s dynasty teams including a number of playoff games.  I got to see Ed Halicki of the Giants no-hit the Mets a Candlestick on August 24th 1975.  I got to see some of the greats of the era play, Catfish, Reggie, McCovey, Garvey, Vida Blue, Harmon Killebrew and so many others.  I also became acquainted  with Minor League Baseball at this time through the Stockton Ports, who then were the Class A California League farm team for the Orioles.  I remember a few years back talking to Paul Blair the Orioles great Paul Blair who played for the Ports in the early 1960s about Billy Hebert Field and how the sun would go down in the outfield blinding hitters and spectators in its glare.

As I have grown older my appreciate for the game, despite strikes and steroids still grows.  I am in awe of the diamond.  I have played catch on the field of dreams, seen a game in the Yankee Stadium Right Field bleachers seen games in other venues and thrown out the first pitch in a couple of minor league games.  I am enchanted with the game. The foul lines theoretical go on to infinity, only broken by the placement of the outfield wall.  Likewise unlike all other sports there is no time limit, meaning that baseball can be an eschatological game going on into eternity. The Hall of Fame is like the Calendar of Saints in the Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican Churches.  There are rituals, the exchange of batting orders and explanation of the ground rules, the ceremonial first pitch, players not stepping on the foul line when entering and leaving the field of play, no talking about it when a pitcher is throwing a no-hitter and the home run trot. The care of a field by an expert ground crew is a thing to behold, especially when they still use the wooden box frames to lay down the chalk on the baselines and the batters box.

My kitchen and much of my dining room are as close to a baseball shrine as Judy will let me make them. stevejeffbaseball

Me Twins First Baseman Rich Reese and my brother Jeff at Anaheim Stadium 1970

Since I returned from Iraq the baseball diamond is one of my few places of solace.  For the first time I bought a season ticket to my local minor league team the Norfolk Tides.  Section 102, row B seat 2.  From there I will sit back and imagine the words of James Earl Jones in Field of Dreams :
“The one constant through all the years has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good, and what could be again.”

In a sense this says it all to me in an age of war, economic crisis and division.  In a sense it is a prayer. Peace and blessings, Steve+

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March 22, 2009 · 15:53

My Lenten Journey: Community

My Lenten vow was to be happy.  I did not expect Lent to be great but I decided to try and something good has come out of Lent this year.  That good thing is community and it came by surprise in a place that I did not expect.

Community is one of the things that I have struggled with throughout my time as a Christian and especially is a military chaplain.  I have often lived in places for brief periods of time.  Even when I was able to develop some sense of community and support it disappeared when I left.

I am by nature an introvert.  Put me in a room with a bunch of strangers and I can put my Romulan cloaking device up faster than the Enterprise can go to warp. Work is another matter, I push myself hard to be with people in the moment and to be present.  I work in the ICU and Pediatric ICU of a teaching hospital. I do a lot more listening and watching than talking most of the time.  This helps me to have the feel of the environment and know when and how to approach a patient, family member or staff members.  The ICU staff  has become a part of my local family and community.

However, I lacked a local faith community.  I love some of my fellow military priests but most are quite far away.  These are close friends but we are separated by geography and military duties.  We may go two or three years without seeing each other. This week I realized that I really need comunity locally.

My church is very small, maybe 70 parishes in the U.S. with none anywhere near me.  My wife is Roman Catholic. I have a good relationship with her parish pastor but the church is rather large.  With the exception of a few choir members I don’t know many people.  They treat me wonderfully but there is a distance. I am a priest in a communion that is not in communion with Rome, and Rome is cracking down on relationships and activities that would have be okay a few years back.

I looked forward to moving here in 2003.  My church had a local mission parish and there were others within a reasonable drive.  I knew many of clergy. I thought I was home.  I hoped  that I could contribute and make a difference in the church.  Unfortunately the local mission priest was difficult. His parish had not grown in 8 years and at best had 15 people in attendance.  I tried to help but was ignored and grew increasingly frustrated. I confronted him about practices that were in direct violation of his bishop’s policies and he was unapologetic. I reported this to the bishop. Instead of listening the bishop banned me from all contact with priests in the diocese.  At that point I went to ground.  Since I was on the road a lot I figured that I could handle isolation.

Coming back from Iraq was the most difficult adjustment that I have had to make in my life.  Not only did I have PTSD, chronic pain, anxiety, depression and insomnia but my sense of community was destroyed. My church had suffered another major split while I was in Iraq.  Despite my estrangement from the church there was nothing left of it in my area. The former bishop and most of the clergy had left.  Judy’s church is nice but it is large and I am hyper-sensitive to noise, lights and crowds of strangers, so it is difficult to attend. If you have ever felt absolutely alone and abandoned you probably can understand.

In September I transferred to the Naval hospital.  I went to work with a staff that valued what I brought to the table, and took time to care for me.  My therapist always asked “how are you doing with the big guy?”  as I was really struggling spiritually.  Remarkably my work in the ICUs was healing, the support of fellow chaplains was more than I could have asked for, things began to get better but I still did not have that local faith community.

I found that community over the past couple of months.  While working in the ICU I met the pastor of a local Episcopal parish in Portsmouth.  He had two of his parishioners in the ICU one of whom eventually passed away.  But during this time we became friends. He is Nigerian and pastors Saint James, which is the historically African-American parish and invited me to visit.  The parish is a wonderful, it is not large; but the people among the most welcoming of any parish that I have ever visited. Their worship is something that I not only am familiar, but draws me to God.  The hymns were those that I would have picked myself. There is a quiet dignity to these folks.  Many are former military. They feed the homeless, they are involved in the community and they love each other.  They understand God’s grace.  I feel at home for the first time in years.

I find it hard to believe, that for the first time in years I am experiencing the joy of being in community on a number of levels.  I think that God herself might even be happy for me.

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March 19, 2009 · 23:10

The Brotherhood of War Part Three: Beer, Donuts and Cigars

My conference is over and I fly home tomorrow.  I have found what happens in the informal sessions,  actually the unsanctioned and unsupervised sessions is actually of more benefit to us old combat vets than any formal program or presentation.  Maybe it’s the manner in which we do so. Most of my friends smoke cigars, I don’t, but I love a good beer. We have happened upon a great combination for late night discussions.  Beer, Krispy Kreme donuts, cigars and for the classy folks a good Port wine.  There is something about discussing experiences and really important stuff in a relaxed atmosphere as friends who each bring strengths to the table.   Some of what we discuss is related to practical matters in military ministry as well as sucecess and survival in the institution.  Likewise we discuss practical things which impact our lives in dealing with the institution of the Church.

The best of these times are wehn four to six of us can sit around and talk.  We spend time discussing our lives, ministry, tell war stories and and simply be there to help each other out, sometimes to provide a safe place to vent.  Tonight was good for me.  I was still pretty ragged from the past day and pretty much opted out of our morning session and lunch.  I needed this time in order to regroup.  One of the things that I have learned the hard way is to know my limitations.  As one of my favorite theologians, Harry Callahan says: “A man’s got to know his limitations.”  There is a lot of good theology in Dirty Harry.  I’ve learned that when my mind and body say I’m done, I am, unless of course it is a combat situation or I am in some other mortal danger.  Knowing this I knew that I could not last another day of regular sessions, even taking account of the good will and intentions of those around me.

It has been a rough week but I am glad that I came.  The bonds formed through years of friendship and shared experiences both in war and peace make this a unique fellowship.  This is our brotherhood, this is our fellowship.  We depart tomorrow and many of us will not see each other again for at least a year, maybe more. Some are already preparing for deployments to Iraq of Afghanistan and others could be called their or elsewhere at a moments notice.  This is the life that we have chosen, we and many who serve with us and those who have gone before us. There was a time a number of years ago when many civilian clergy in our church quoted the speech in Henry V quite often.  As a career military officer at the time I had problems with many who had never seen combat or lived the life of a soldier quoting that speech.  I think it is really something for us who have served, especially those who have done so in combat.  For us this has real meaning.

“This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian:’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember’d;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day”

This is for all my friends, and all who serve and have served.  We few we happy few, we band of brothers.

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