A Christmas letter
Received in 2018, from Father de Jesus, who is a Veterans Chaplain. His letter is inspirational, informative and includes Scripture passages. “Proclaiming Good News to You” Salamat (Thank you!)
His loving description about his support for Veterans is good writing and compelling to read.
Here is my annual newsletter! “And we know that in all things God Works for the good of those who love him, who have been called to his purpose” Romans 8:28
“When soldiers encounter experiences that offend their values, moral standards or religious convictions, they are traumatized.” Father de Jesus, Chaplain
Around September, my niece, Meg, emailed to inform me that my childhood Parish of St. Pius X (in Manila), was celebrating the 50th anniversary of its foundation. The anniversary committee was requesting a current picture of me and some words about my priestly apostate. I’ve not been in the parish for over 4 decades and those still alive among my acquaintances might not recognize me in my picture (what with a shaved head against an 8 year old, curly haired altar server they knew!). They might say that time has not been kind to me. (Vanity has set in!)
“Vanity of vanities says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities; all is vanity” Ecclesiastes 1:2
I did send a letter of greetings, praising, and thanking the Lord for making the parish the initial venue where I discovered my vocation to the religious life and the priesthood. Dad was among its first Council Presidents, and Mom used to help out with the altar linens and church decorations. My siblings and I, when we were not singing in the choir with Dad, were expanding our social circles and attending parties! I lost touch with most, if not all, of our friends there when we moved back to Paco, in Manila, when I was around 11 years old.
Part of the letter to the parish detailed what my current ministry entails. In a very abbreviated manner, I told them what training is needed for this kind of chaplain ministry and the expectations people have of my ministry. This has led me to think that I probably need to describe what I actually do at the Veterans Affairs Hospital in San Antonio, Texas, and share with you the joys and difficulties of my calling.
“I can do everything through him who gives me strength” Philippians 4:13
My ministry calls me to do two major kinds of chaplaincy: Hospice, and Palliative Care on one hand and Mental Health on the other. While I’m assigned full-time to the former, I’m called every now and then to also function as the latter. These are two huge areas of chaplaincy, which needs a few years of training in order to get certification. I’m trained and certified for both.
Let me take up Mental Health chaplaincy first, since this is not accurately understood by many people. You see, we minister to veterans of war. Many of them come back from deployment (wars or assignment) needing medical help for their physical injuries. As recently as 20 years ago, science, medicine and psychology have detected injuries invisible to the eyes. We have come to call them moral or spiritual injuries.
“Cast all you anxiety on him because he cares for you” 1 Peter 5:7
When soldiers encounter experiences that offend their values, moral standards or religious convictions, they are traumatized. Not only do they see deaths of enemies and bodies of helpless women, the elderly, children and their fellow soldiers, but they also see how horrific the ways they die sometimes. And, when they see this reality on and on for many months, even years, they become traumatized or “morally wounded” forever. Mental health chaplains, like myself, help other provides (doctors, nurses, etc.) with the soldiers (and sometimes the providers) recoveries.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” Psalm 34:18”
It is not UNUSUAL that veterans as young as 25 years old, but as old as 88 (those World War II or the Korean War) would shake, and weep helplessly, whenever memories of their experiences are recounted or come alive. It is not UNCOMMON that people lose their faith in any religion, even questioning the existence of a God who could be so merciless as to let those things happen. And, sadly, it is not INFREQUENT that veterans die by suicide (21 Veterans a day in the US) simply because they believe that it is the only way to stop those memories from ever wounding their hearts again.
“Be strong and of good courage; do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6
To say that mental health chaplaincy is very tough is indeed an understatement. Helping those afflicted with moral and spiritual WOUNDS that are invisible to the eyes, but are more deeply destructive and profoundly incapacitating than physical woulds, has become a committed response of God’s loving mercy in my life.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil: for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff comfort me.” Psalm 23:4
Confronting one’s dying moments- consciously and deliberately- is never an easy task, both for the patients and their families. My ministry as a chaplain is to accompany the patients and their families in this final journey. Often, it entails a lot of LISTENING- (a) to their laments, (b) to complaints about how God or people or fate has treated them, (c) to the why’s of dying and the how’s of what happens after, (d) to the joys and accomplishment in their lives, (e) but also, to the regrets and unfulfilled plans, as well as (f) forgiveness and un-forgiveness. And, not necessarily in that order, if at all they happen.
“My soul finds rest in God alone, my salvation comes from him.” Psalm 62:1
Not a few have asked me if I don’t find my ministry morbid, dark or gloomy - having to face pain, dying and death on a daily basis. It doesn’t take me a long time to answer that. Basically, I tell them: as a man of faith and a man of the cloth, I believe there’s heaven after life. I believe that I prepare for heaven every Veteran I minister to in his or her dying moments. And, at the moment of one’s last breath, I believe that I stand in the threshold or gate of heaven - bringing every Veteran before Jesus Christ, just before the Lord admits them to heaven. And, as I live on this earth, that’s the closest I can get to heaven- until the Lord calls me for my own final encounter.
My prayers are with you and your loved ones! Maligayang Pasko! Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad! Joyeux Noel! All the best! Fr. Al
“When soldiers encounter experiences that offend their values, moral standards or religious convictions, they are traumatized.” Father de Jesus, Chaplain
Around September, my niece, Meg, emailed to inform me that my childhood Parish of St. Pius X (in Manila), was celebrating the 50th anniversary of its foundation. The anniversary committee was requesting a current picture of me and some words about my priestly apostate. I’ve not been in the parish for over 4 decades and those still alive among my acquaintances might not recognize me in my picture (what with a shaved head against an 8 year old, curly haired altar server they knew!). They might say that time has not been kind to me. (Vanity has set in!)
“Vanity of vanities says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities; all is vanity” Ecclesiastes 1:2
I did send a letter of greetings, praising, and thanking the Lord for making the parish the initial venue where I discovered my vocation to the religious life and the priesthood. Dad was among its first Council Presidents, and Mom used to help out with the altar linens and church decorations. My siblings and I, when we were not singing in the choir with Dad, were expanding our social circles and attending parties! I lost touch with most, if not all, of our friends there when we moved back to Paco, in Manila, when I was around 11 years old.
Part of the letter to the parish detailed what my current ministry entails. In a very abbreviated manner, I told them what training is needed for this kind of chaplain ministry and the expectations people have of my ministry. This has led me to think that I probably need to describe what I actually do at the Veterans Affairs Hospital in San Antonio, Texas, and share with you the joys and difficulties of my calling.
“I can do everything through him who gives me strength” Philippians 4:13
My ministry calls me to do two major kinds of chaplaincy: Hospice, and Palliative Care on one hand and Mental Health on the other. While I’m assigned full-time to the former, I’m called every now and then to also function as the latter. These are two huge areas of chaplaincy, which needs a few years of training in order to get certification. I’m trained and certified for both.
Let me take up Mental Health chaplaincy first, since this is not accurately understood by many people. You see, we minister to veterans of war. Many of them come back from deployment (wars or assignment) needing medical help for their physical injuries. As recently as 20 years ago, science, medicine and psychology have detected injuries invisible to the eyes. We have come to call them moral or spiritual injuries.
“Cast all you anxiety on him because he cares for you” 1 Peter 5:7
When soldiers encounter experiences that offend their values, moral standards or religious convictions, they are traumatized. Not only do they see deaths of enemies and bodies of helpless women, the elderly, children and their fellow soldiers, but they also see how horrific the ways they die sometimes. And, when they see this reality on and on for many months, even years, they become traumatized or “morally wounded” forever. Mental health chaplains, like myself, help other provides (doctors, nurses, etc.) with the soldiers (and sometimes the providers) recoveries.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” Psalm 34:18”
It is not UNUSUAL that veterans as young as 25 years old, but as old as 88 (those World War II or the Korean War) would shake, and weep helplessly, whenever memories of their experiences are recounted or come alive. It is not UNCOMMON that people lose their faith in any religion, even questioning the existence of a God who could be so merciless as to let those things happen. And, sadly, it is not INFREQUENT that veterans die by suicide (21 Veterans a day in the US) simply because they believe that it is the only way to stop those memories from ever wounding their hearts again.
“Be strong and of good courage; do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6
To say that mental health chaplaincy is very tough is indeed an understatement. Helping those afflicted with moral and spiritual WOUNDS that are invisible to the eyes, but are more deeply destructive and profoundly incapacitating than physical woulds, has become a committed response of God’s loving mercy in my life.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil: for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff comfort me.” Psalm 23:4
Confronting one’s dying moments- consciously and deliberately- is never an easy task, both for the patients and their families. My ministry as a chaplain is to accompany the patients and their families in this final journey. Often, it entails a lot of LISTENING- (a) to their laments, (b) to complaints about how God or people or fate has treated them, (c) to the why’s of dying and the how’s of what happens after, (d) to the joys and accomplishment in their lives, (e) but also, to the regrets and unfulfilled plans, as well as (f) forgiveness and un-forgiveness. And, not necessarily in that order, if at all they happen.
“My soul finds rest in God alone, my salvation comes from him.” Psalm 62:1
Not a few have asked me if I don’t find my ministry morbid, dark or gloomy - having to face pain, dying and death on a daily basis. It doesn’t take me a long time to answer that. Basically, I tell them: as a man of faith and a man of the cloth, I believe there’s heaven after life. I believe that I prepare for heaven every Veteran I minister to in his or her dying moments. And, at the moment of one’s last breath, I believe that I stand in the threshold or gate of heaven - bringing every Veteran before Jesus Christ, just before the Lord admits them to heaven. And, as I live on this earth, that’s the closest I can get to heaven- until the Lord calls me for my own final encounter.
Now, tell me- how can that ever be morbid, dark or gloomy?!
On the contrary, sad and tearful as death and dying can be, it is- by FAITH’s definition- BLISSFUL, BRIGHT and JOYFUL. Just like Christmas.
My prayers are with you and your loved ones! Maligayang Pasko! Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad! Joyeux Noel! All the best! Fr. Al
Labels: Veterans
posted by Juliana L'Heureux at 11:16 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home