Like ministering to a parade as it passes by...

Referring to the highly mobile/transitory nature of life in the military and in VA hospitals, I once heard someone remark that "chaplain service is sort of like trying to minister to people in a parade as they pass by."

I recalled that word-picture as I continued my reflection upon some of our Episcopal Church chaplains whom I visited recently in the Pacific Northwest. In my previous blog/column I referred to chaplains as persons serving "outside the camp" --i.e. outside the more traditional locales of priestly ministry in a settled (at least somewhat) church, at a specific address, in a town or city.

Active duty Chaplain (Major) Beth Echols is a petite, smart, low-key, strong, look-you-in-the-eye, non-pretentious, caring priest, wife and mother of two. She is completing a Clinical Pastoral Education residency program at the large, sparkling Madigan Army Medical Center at Fort Lewis near Tacoma, Washington -- the hospital where she will serve for two to three follow-on years once her one-year CPE residency is soon completed.

Chaplain Echols (who is a priest with canonical ties to the "East Coast Washington" --as in DC/Southern Maryland) along with her supportive husband and two sharp kids, have fallen in love with the Tacoma/Olympia area so they are pleased with the prospects of staying longer.

Beth took me on a tour of the medical center which inadvertently allowed me to witness first hand, even on that relatively brief one-day visit, something of the impact a caring chaplain has on people's lives. At every turn we bumped into patients and staff (as well as fellow chaplains) who quickly recognized and greeted her. The manner and tone in which they addressed Beth indicated their appreciation and respect for her ministry.

For example, as we were leaving the hospital dining room following breakfast someone called out "Chaplain Echols, ma'am" and we both turned to see a tall, young soldier catching up with us. He said to Beth, "Chaplain I just want to thank you for coming to the critical care unit that evening to be with my wife and me and to baptize our baby." Chaplain Echols gave him a brief neck-hug and gently replied, "Thanks. I am glad I came too. " Nothing more was said. The young soldier turned and headed back to the dinning facility and we continued walking to the elevator.

Beth told me that the soldier's child had been in the intensive care unit possibly near death. The soldier and his wife asked the duty Protestant chaplain that night to please baptize their infant. That chaplain told the couple because of his faith-group's stance on baptism he couldn't baptize an infant but that he would phone the Episcopal chaplain and let them speak with her. They did and Beth drove back to the hospital (about a 20-mile trip one-way), spent time with the young, anxious couple and baptized their infant.

The transitory life of moving once every two to three years to a different military installation in the U.S. or overseas -- not to mention the family separation when the service member is deployed -- results in military individuals, couples, and their children, living far from the familiar support of family, hometown, and their minister, priest, rabbi or imam. A good chaplain, such as Beth, learns to step non-judgmentally into those precious moments along the "parade route," into the joys and pains and sometimes death, to serve as God's Presence -- God's hand, ear, heart and mind. Those chaplains are worth their weight in gold to the women, and men in uniform and to their families who travel in that parade "outside the camp".