How blessed we are in our own country, where we are free to vote, read, and think. The Taliban are their own worst enemy, for these sorts of stories are not easily forgotten in a country as old as Afghanistan. Feuds are remembered for generations. Insults are punished with execution. Most of the Afghans despise the violent displays of tyrannical tribes. At the same time, a handful of gangsters in a village with only a couple of weapons will demand submission from these otherwise peaceful people. Many will show their support to whomever poses the greatest threat to the interests and honor of the clan. Decisions at the jirgas are binding to all.
Yet, behind closed doors, people continue to learn and judge for themselves. Children beg for pens and paper, not candy. The heads of the homes pray for the day when schools and hospitals will be safe. When I was an inner-city pastor in Montreal, Québec, prior to joining the military, I was constantly impressed by the determination to learn exhibited by refugees and immigrants from the Middle East. Women would often take the Holy Injil (New Testaments) from our literature table, and hide them under their burkas. They are eager to learn that which is forbidden them. History has repeatedly taught that attempts at controlling the minds of a people are futile. The resistance will overtake them . . . eventually. It only takes a little education. No wonder that a school represents the greatest of all threats.
Lord God, from whom all blessings flow, I praise You for the wisdom that we receive from wise and godly teachers. May You bless the development of schools and educators in Afghanistan to enlighten minds and enrich the lives of those who abide in dark places. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
August 10
Today a flight engineer was crushed by the ramp of a Chinook helicopter. Sometimes accidents just happen, and there is nobody to blame. His anti-fragment vest saved his life. These are plates that we wear on our back and front to absorb bullets and shrapnel from an explosion. Recently the CF has included armor for the throat, neck and shoulders. Heavy: Yes. Uncomfortable: Certainly. Necessary: Absolutely! Every time I arm myself, I am reminded of the full armor of God that we have received in Holy Baptism. Although I too am guilty, it still annoys me when Christians forget about this armor, or get lazy in putting it on. It is a question of spiritual life or death. I am equally bothered when Christians think that the armor isn’t entirely and completely theirs from the day of their salvation, and that they accumulate more or better armor, through time, based upon rewards from the Holy Spirit. In the army, when we are issued our “kit,” we get it all at once. There is some instruction on its usage, and certainly we are responsible for its upkeep (which is the same for our spiritual equipment through catechetical instruction and the Christian walk). But at the end of the day, there is nothing that we can say we have done well. The equipment is efficacious in itself. As St. Paul says, we have no reason to boast in the matter of spiritual warfare, since it is the equipment that has kept us safe and saved (I Corinthians 1:29).
Incidentally, there will still be wounds. That flight engineer broke some ribs. And we need to remember that there are still consequences of our spiritual battles with the world, our own flesh and the devil. We may break some spiritual ribs as well along the way. Jacob wrestled with God. He went home blessed, but with a limp. Christians are persecuted for their faith. All of us have crosses to carry and thorns that we bear in the flesh. Christian suffering is a constant reminder that we are not yet in heaven, that we must continually rely on the Lord for all things. Without these involuntarily episodes of “fasting,” we can quickly lose our appetite for heavenly things. Our Host, after all, has gone to great lengths to prepare us that meal. Moreover, He is a Lord who has Himself undergone all that we have undergone. No one has hungered and thirsted as He has. Christ has Himself suffered to heal us in our own sufferings. He knows the narrow way, for He has walked it before.
That flight engineer went home a changed man: praising those who designed and provided him with that safety equipment, and never forgetting his vulnerability without it. As one general once said, “it is well that war is so terrible, else we should grow too fond of it.’’ This applies to the Christian battle as well. Our wounds, pains and sufferings keep us humble, and well focused on eternity. Our glimpses of heaven must never distract us from our mission on earth. For ours is an eternity that has been gained and shaped by nothing less than the sufferings of Christ.
Lord Jesus our Savior, thank You for the gracious protection that You provide us every day. Help us, with the help of the Holy Spirit, to treasure the spiritual armor that You have purchased and won for us through Your death and resurrection. Amen.
August 14
This morning at 0600, about one hundred and fifty of us participated in the Terry Fox run. Most of our troops are out in the field, OTW, and don’t have the luxury of these kinds of morale boosters. But for us on KAF, it delivers a welcome break in the week, and offers an opportunity to raise money for cancer research at the same time. Terry Fox is a Canadian hero. Thirty years ago, he attempted to run across the country with one artificial leg. He covered about 40 km a day. The interesting thing about him, and the part I love, is that he never finished the race. He died out West. Curiously, despite his failure, he remains a hero. History is filled with stories of glorious victories, especially in the athletic world. However, how many countries celebrate someone who, put bluntly, lost the race and never achieved his or her goal? It is more accurate to life though, isn’t it? I once participated in a university debate with a Muslim academic. He cried out how he hated the fact that all the Biblical heroes were simultaneously failures in their ministries. What kind of a model did they set for us? Not a model of our capabilities, but rather of that which we are incapable of doing. “And isn’t that wonderful!’’ I responded. Christ also looked liked a loser, His victory hidden from those who chose not to believe. No wonder the Muslims deny His crucifixion, claiming that He escaped death and lived a long healthy life for ninety years thereafter.
By the way, Terry Fox died because of the race. In short, had he never begun, he would have lived a longer life. He sacrificed himself for an important cause. And I guess, that is what we are celebrating with him. Not a victory, but a sacrifice. Of course, it is an ending that many Canadians choose to ignore, but for us Christians, it is typological of our Savior, and our soldiers. Although life is improving in this country of Afghanistan, the war will likely never end. It has been fought for thousands of years. War reminds us of our temporal existence, and our need for forgiveness. In Afghanistan, our mission is not simply about winning. And our soldiers go home heroes, especially the wounded ones, even though they never reached the finish line.
Victorious Savior, help us to trust Your Word that we are winners over sin, death and the devil, even when our experiences and the voices of our enemies attempt to convince us otherwise. Amen.
August 23
It was an exceptionally long ramp ceremony this afternoon. Nine Americans are dead. What made it particularly unsettling was that this time, for the first time in Afghanistan, a Chaplain and his assistant were among the casualties. It was bound to happen eventually—statistical probability. But when it happens to a colleague, it hits home hard. Could it have been me? I suppose. But, again, I remember Jesus saying something about picking up a cross and following him, and being willing to lay our lives down for our callings. Most of the disciples had similar fates. The ancient practice of having clergy lay on the ground in cruciform during the liturgy of ordination is an appropriate symbol of pastoral ministry. So why, then, are we so surprised when a clergyman is murdered in inner city ministry, or a missionary imprisoned in a communist country, or a chaplain killed in the line of duty? We have forgotten our first love, our raison d’être, that we are called to die; to die to self daily and, when it pleases our heavenly Father, to lay down our life for the Church. It sure is hard when you have a wife and four kids. And so my obligations, my duty and calling to my family and my ministry, conflict. I would prefer to “bury my father” before following Jesus. Can’t I have it both ways Lord? You want me right away? But why? At the end of the day, the answer isn’t ours to give, and our families need to be constantly reminded that they live in the shadow of the cross . . . of their dad.
Loving Shepherd, we chaplains are called to tend Your flock in the war zone, even though this vocation requires us to leave our families at home alone. Surround our loved ones with Your caring presence and protection, feeding them the Gospel through faithful pastors in supportive