On the Homefront

Military commanders will always work strenuously to avoid what is called a "two-front war." Ideally, the enemy is in front of you at all times--otherwise, you must divide your force and rely upon both lines to hold.

The soldier faces this two-front war every time he is deployed. He goes off to battle, while his wife holds down the homefront--taking care of children, finances, other jobs, etc--and all without the help of her spouse. The role of the military spouse in such times is absolutely crucial--the soldier is generally safe as long as both fronts hold.

There is a reason why the number one cause of suicides in the military is not deployments, but broken relationships. That is why the military invests so heavily in Strong Bonds and other family support programs. In order to successfully fight, the soldier must know that he returns to a secure home.

This is the unforgotten sacrifice of the US soldier and his family. If I did an informal poll of my soldiers about the hardest part of this deployment, the overwhelming response would not be the threat that is before them, but the precious things they are leaving behind. It could also be realistically asserted that the family has a harder time than the soldier. He has a weapon in the fight. All they have is a helpless hope.

I take exception to Rachel Maddow on a whole host of issues, but one point she nails in her recent book on foreign policy, Drift, is that there has never been a greater gap between the military and mainstream society. Our military--not our country--has been engaged in the most protracted conflicted in its history. Never has the military--including its Reserve branches--been deployed more in service of our country. And never has it been less acknowledged. One of the questions that my soldiers hate the most, and hear often, when they mention their deployment is "We're still in Afghanistan?" At least in Vietnam, with all of the unjustified hatred of the drafted American soldier, people still paid attention.

About three years ago, I started to thank military wives and children for their service. They are the great, unnoticed heroes of our country. You will not recognize them by what they wear, but by what they bear.

The military wife is the hero of the homefront, giving up what is most precious to her so the wife next door can enjoy the warmth of her husband at night, and the kids playing in the neighbor's yard can do so without wondering if daddy will come home.

I am incredibly blessed to know that my wife not only took up this life-denying burden, but is working, even as a new mom, to support other wives who bear this same burden. She invests her tears in others' pain.

I ask each  of you, as you generously remember me and my soldiers in your prayers, to remember our wives and children. In almost a decade of warfare in Iraq, and over a decade in Afghanistan, the attrition rate of military marriages is horrendous. The toll of numerous deployments is overwhelming. Please pray not only for the military family, but if you meet one, thank them for their service and if possible, support them as they endure so much to support their husband/daddy as he supports our country.

Rest Before the Storm

My time thus far in this distant place has been surprisingly tranquil.

The weather is slightly hot and temperate and towering mountains loom over this foreign outpost. The food is an improvement over my prior stateside post, as is the internet connectivity.

Aside a few final preparatory activities, I join most of my soldiers in sleeping at random hours throughout the day as we all adjust to the sudden time zone changes, in conjunction with the jet lag.

When not sleeping or engaging in these final preparations, I read my Nook, read Scripture and journal, check the latest emails and sports and political news online, and hang out with soldiers.

On my Nook, I have transitioned from the more thought-provoking non-fiction to some absorbing fiction. Right now, I am reading the prequels to Ender's Game--the classic young adult novel that will soon be a blockbuster movie. I sped through the first prequel and have a solid beachhead in the second. The third has not yet been released. I am not generally a fan of science-fiction, but these imaginative novels are thoroughly enjoyable.

In Scripture, I am starting to memorize Philippians, which will also become the basis of a long-term sermon series that I will go through once in theater. I have already started the Greek work with the help of BibleWorks, and am reading a commentary by Hywel Jones, who is one of the most profound preachers I have ever heard. Here is what I have memorized thus far:

Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, to all the saints in Christ Jesus in Philippi, along with the the overseers and deacons. Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. (1:1-2)

Right now, I am meditating on the relationship between three great gifts the Christian enjoys: (1) Being a saint (holy/set apart) in Christ Jesus, (2) Being a servant of Christ Jesus, and (3) Receiving grace and peace from Christ Jesus. It is not a stretch to say that from the believer's fundamental identity and purpose to his spiritual livelihood and resulting assurance--all of it is bound in the most intimate way to the person and work of Jesus Christ.

In my occasional ventures online, I gain greater appreciation for the mundane blessings of life in the States (the same thing happens in Malawi, where I am prone to crave McDonald's). I enjoy sports news more, like Chris Davis' awesome home run tear for the Orioles. I also enjoy political news more, especially as some statewide elections are coming up this Fall. I also continue to enjoy two of my favorite Christian sites--the Heidelblog and the Gospel Coalition (both can be Googled).

One of my highlights of deployment thus far has been the unusual and delightful friendship I have struck up with an influential gay soldier. He had input on Army adjustments to the repeal of Don't Ask Don't Tell and was ecstatic about the recent Supreme Court decision (which I was decidedly less-enthused about). We will sometimes spar for hours at a time, ranging from philosophical principles and practical political compromises to the Gospel. I would dare say that he is becoming one of my better friends in the unit. Several other soldiers have often joined in our discussions as well. Sometimes, we all happen to sit down for a meal alongside of each other, and inevitably, somebody will ask "So what are we debating today, something political, theological, philosophical, or cultural?" What an enjoyable aspect of Army life!

Speaking of rest, tomorrow is Sunday, and as with the rest of this transitory period, I look forward to being refreshed by the Good News of Jesus Christ before being plunged into the storm! God bless you all.

Moving, Even When It Hurts

A few years back, one of our soldiers was significantly injured by an IED in Iraq. This soldier experiences residual pain every day from the screws/bolts used to hold the hip together. This soldier also struggles with the normal combat stress that comes with deploying once more and reliving many of the sights and sounds of the premature departure from the last deployment.

Family members encouraged this soldier to use both the physical and psychological affects of that prior injury to back out of this mission. This soldier refused. Most of our soldiers, minus a select few, don't even know of this incident or the affect upon this soldiers. As with most soldiers, prior heroics are tempered by modesty.

One of the triggers of this soldier's combat stress came with boarding the airplane. I counseled and encouraged this soldier at various points in the prior week leading up to this event. As we crossed the tarmac, with the band playing and the general shaking hands, this soldier was supported by a battle buddy, with me walking behind. The soldier took each step, one at time, until boarding the aircraft. I encouraged the soldier along the way and was the final soldier from my unit on the plane. While the soldier ate ice chips and played with a lucky penny as the plane revved up, I prayed. We went airborne. The soldier conquered the first of many obstacles.

This soldier once relayed to me the fear that this stress was a sign of weakness, and that others, if they knew, would read it as weakness as well. But how many soldiers are getting back into the fray after such an injury? How many deploy, having intimately experienced some of the worst that one could face? Darn few.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but proceeding in the face of fear. This soldier is a hero.

Please keep me in prayer as I support this soldier and others. The greatest source of courage and strength is found in the cross, where Christ bore the wages of sin that we earned, and credited His perfect righteousness to the undeserving. In Christ, we can cry out "Where, O death, is thy sting? Where, O grave, is thy victory?"

The true faith has never prospered as much as when the church has experienced suffering, as much of it is right now outside of the West. Tertullian once said that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church. That is because the world bears witness to those who humbly die (not kill) for their faith and see a joyful hope that transcends worldly suffering.

Bonhoeffer, the German pastor who challenged Hitler, was one of these martyrs. In the final months of the war, as he languished in prison, he wondered whether God would bear him up amidst suffering and the prospect of death. It was a Saturday when two men from Bonhoeffer's cell were taken to the gallows. He was supposed to one of them. The next day, Easter Sunday, Bonhoeffer led a service for his fellow prisoners. As he finished the closing prayer, the German authorities--who realized their mistake--rushed in a took him off to the gallows. A German guard, who was present at Bonhoeffer's martyrdom on that Easter Sunday, said that he had never "seen someone so submissive to the will of God."

How God's strength is made manifest in man's weakness! How He will glorify Himself and draw the broken from every tribe, tongue, people, and language through the humble, God-sustained suffering of His people!

The Clock Strikes Midnight

I figured I would post once more, knowing that this may be my last opportunity for a bit...

I confess that I feel the gravity of this occasion, which means that I do not proceed in a haphazard manner. Yet, more than the gravity of this occasion, I feel the weight of my calling. While my calling ultimately is derived from my assurance in God's gracious providence, it is also affirmed by outward means.

My commander--the same one who gave me a counseling statement several days ago--singled me out yesterday in a meeting with our warrant officers as one who is always growing, and described me as an excellent chaplain. Not long after, two separate soldiers stopped me to let me know that my positive attitude was contagious and did a lot for their own morale as well as others.

I know my frailties intimately and my sin in all of its ugliness is always before my eyes, yet I rest content knowing that my life and calling are held in the hand of my Good Shepherd. My God works in me to will and work in accordance with His good pleasure. Even as I'm chastened in my sin, I find not only rest but renewed vigor for this walk of faith in my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

I assure all of you that no matter what I face, and no matter how I struggle and suffer in God's wise providence, that I will flash this goofy, God-sustained smile upon my return:

With Love and Affection in Jesus Christ,
Stephen

The Countdown

Well, after lots of working and waiting, the final countdown has begun.

The suspense is building for the soldiers. Some look forward to getting into the fight and the cause it represents; many look forward to escaping the monotony of this current phase and getting to work; all look forward to being one step closer to coming home to their families.

For me, there is an anticipation of finally being where I have long felt called to be. I have loved this country and admired her soldiers for as long as I can remember.  When I tried to enlist after 9/11, it was not only because my family were some of those walking out of DC on foot, but also because the country and ideals I revered were under attack.  I want my children to inherit the precious freedoms and responsibilities I inherited, enshrined in the most ingenious governing documents crafted in the history of mankind.

While I didn’t ultimately enlist just after 9/11, I admired my brother, who had enlisted and ended up serving in Iraq. His experience was a poor one, negatively affected by the same military he pledged to serve. This only tightened my resolve to one day join that same military and care for the soldiers who might slip through the cracks or suffer abuse at the hands of the corrupt.

My hero, Machen, served in the YMCA during WWI. He was greatly disheartened by the false hope often given to soldiers by a corroded chaplaincy. We are not to trust in our own sacrifice at the portal of death, he would argue, but trust in the sacrifice of Christ on the cross for sinners. My hope and prayer is that on this deployment, regardless of who embraces this hope (which is in the hands of the sovereign God), that the hope of Christ is at least ringing in every set of ears of the men and women that God has entrusted to me.

I am incredibly proud of the soldiers that I am serving with. I know the price that many have paid in previous deployments to ransom our country from the threat of tyranny. I know the price that all our paying now, missing precious moments with precious people to help secure a more precious future.

I am proud to be an American. Not because we are a superior race of people as some might arrogantly believe, but because we are melting pot of people from all over the world, bound my certain ideals. What other country is identified by ideals rather than a particular people group? This is reflected in the diversity of the military. Here, the formerly racist white soldier from the boonies and the formerly racist black soldier from the projects serve back-to-back, fiercely loyal to one another. Outside of the church, there is no institution greater than the military at uniting all types of people in one common goal.

And it is with this institution—this force of sacrificial patriots who will stand in the gap and stare tyranny and terror in the eye that it may never reach our precious land—that I gratefully serve.

Review: Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl

"... We stumbled on in the darkness, over big stones and through large puddles, along the one road leading from the camp. The accompanying guards kept shouting at us and driving us with the butts of their rifles. Anyone with very sore feet supported himself on his neighbor's arm. Hardly a word was spoken; the icy wind did not encourage talk. Hiding his mouth behind his upturned collar, the man marching next to me whispered suddenly: "If our wives could see us now! I do hope they are better off in their camps and don't know what is happening to us."

That brought thoughts of my own wife to mind. And as we stumbled on for miles, slipping on icy spots, supporting each other time and again, dragging one another up and onward, nothing was said, but we both knew: each of us was thinking of his wife. Occasionally I looked at the sky, where the stars were fading and the pink light of the morning was beginning to spread behind a dark bank of clouds. But my mind clung to my wife's image, imagining it with an uncanny acuteness. I heard her answering me, saw her smile, her frank and encouraging look. Real or not, her look was then more luminous than the sun which was beginning to rise.

A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth – that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. In a position of utter desolation, when man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist in enduring his sufferings in the right way – an honorable way – in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment. For the first time in my life I was able to understand the meaning of the words, "The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory...." (56-57)

What a powerful and poignant passage! This portrait of a man surviving the Holocaust for his beloved is even more moving when one realizes that by this point, unbeknownst to Frankl, his precious wife was dead.

Yet in Frankl's efforts to find meaning in the worst of human sufferings, the foundation of what he would later term "logotherapy," he adds greatly to the work of two other authors I have read in the past year: Elie Wiesel and Martin Seligman.

Wiesel, with words that drop upon the heart with the weight of tears, wrestled with the Holocaust he survived and in his final estimation, found God hanging from the gallows of his concentration camp. In the most repulsive of circumstances, Wiesel finally hung to despair. Frankl moved beyond Wiesel. He chose to "say 'Yes' to life," and seek our meaning in his tragic experiences. One could strive for meaning amidst any experience, whether it be future (love, life, learning, etc.), or--if faced with imminent suffering and death--the opportunity to do so with honor and dignity.

Seligman, wrestling with the modern deluge of depression, sought to combat the paralysis of helplessness and  habitual pessimism with the art of disputing one's thoughts. Yet, in the final analysis, his helpful practice relied upon the same faulty nature that allows for depression in the first place. Frankl moved beyond Seligman in confronting the nature of a man, rather than just his thoughts. He realized that though depression evolves from one's thought process, that thought process evolves from one's worldview (my term). A person with meaning can scale the highest cliffs, but the nihilist (one who sees life as inherently lacking meaning) will wither at the slightest provocation.

Man's well being is intimately tied to his sense of meaning and purpose. Behind most psychological disorders are philosophical disorders, as witnessed by the current millieu of postmodern despair. In America, the breaking point from the utopian illusions of the early twentieth century came with Vietnam, Watergate, and a spate of assassinations. Ideals rooted in human goodness fell apart. Much of today's prevalent cynicism is a result of that dashing of human hopes.

But that dashing of human hopes merely did away with false man-centered idols of achievement, not with hope all together. And this is where I believe we can add to Frankl's "logotherapy" (logos is Greek for word/meaning/thing) and speak into the current generational despair. We need not project our own sense of meaning, as Frankl, the existentialist, would have us do in order to progress. 

Irretrievable meaning was availed to sinners when the true Logos (Word) became sarkos (flesh)--the language we get from John 1. Meaning was bestowed upon sinners when the God who bestows meaning sent His Son to live the perfectly meaningful life (one lived fully to God's glory) in the place of sinners who sought meaning solely within themselves (Rom. 1). 

Living in light of the cross--covered in the atoning blood of Christ and credited with His perfect righteousness--secures eternal meaning for the sinner. Along with his own nature, the sinner's suffering is transformed into sanctification leading to glory, and the sinner's death is transformed into a mere portal into surpassing glory. Man is a meaningful creature and will either deny meaning and despair, supply false meaning and live a lie, or cling to the God of meaning through Jesus Christ and have life and life to the full.

Hero of Heroes

I asked another chaplain to lead the service this morning, since my unit is about to leave and seems to enjoy unpredictability as a lifestyle choice. What a refreshing change of pace! There is something about the old school, black Gospel style of singing and preaching that can nurse the soul (probably has something to do with the style being forged through suffering).

The passage utilized for the sermon today was Hebrews 11, which is a fitting jumping off point for a deployment. The passage chronicles many Old Testament heroes of the faith, but it is not about them. It is about the promise of Jesus Christ that sustained them.

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. By it, the men of old received testimony." (Heb. 11:1-2--mostly KJV).

Faith is not a feeling or vague hope. Some modern translations change "substance" to "assurance" and change "evidence" to "confidence." The substance here produces assurance and the evidence here produces confidence, but the older terminology better captures the original Greek.

The unseen things--the hoped for things--were the person and work of Jesus Christ and the effects of what He acccomplished. They were heavenly realities, for example, "a city whose builder and maker is God," that were ultimately bound to Jesus Christ as the focal point of the great cloud of witnesses (12:1-3).

The substance--the evidence--that sustained them was God's Word and its redemptive promise that pointed forward to Christ. We walk by faith, not by sight, and that faith is sustained by God's Word and Spirit. As a result, the Old Testament "heroes" were enabled to walk by faith because the Word and promises that sustained their faith was just as real as the fulfillment to come.

Boiling it all down, faith is a God-given gift that enables the blind to see reality that surpasses the microscope or telescope or present experiences. God's revelation is more substantial and speaks with an uninhibited authority and clarity that cannot be matched. It can be perverted by the human mind, but unlike the scientific method, is not dependent on the human mind for its truth.

And faith, in its true form, has Christ alone as its object. There is no substitute. I have no faith in myself or my potential. I have faith in my Savior from sin. I can do no ultimate good apart from Him. And I walk by faith, which is no less valid than any other guide, but rather, because it relies upon God's Word as its substance, trumps all other quests for truth and meaning.

And as I walk by faith into this deployment, I have assurance and confidence, knowing that for me and each of my soldiers, not a bullet or piece of shrapnel shall graze us but by the divine appointment of God. And unless that appointment was made in the eternal counsel of His will for His own glory, we are untouchable. This does not negate our responsibility and wisdom, but cloaks them in security. To God be the glory!