Shipboard Ash Wednesday

Many here may have arrived out of mere curiosity. Some have participated in this service for as long as they can remember. So why are we here on this Wednesday?

We come here in this place and time to mark ourselves in an overtly outer manner as Christians. This is the one time where we do this. Why do we mark ourselves in such a bold way when Jesus says, “beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them?” Does this practice violate what Jesus expects of us in the Sermon on the Mount?

I don’t think so, because of the motives involved in what we are doing here today. This isn’t in the same manner that the hypocrites of Jesus’ day showed off their fasting. This is only for one day, if that long, as most people will wash the ashes off at some point in the day. It will mark you as a believer in a world where believing isn’t always looked upon positively. It may mark you as odd, an outsider. It probably won’t bring you respect or fame. It may just end up getting you ridicule or weird looks.

But, it’s not to let the world know we are Christians. We are called to let the world know through our actions. It is placed on our foreheads as a reminder. We forget many things, for example that God is God and we are not. We forget we are sinners. We forget that we don’t really know what a fast is. We forget that we have tendencies that make us like the hypocrites in the Gospel passage from today. We forget that from dust we came and to dust we shall return. We need a physical mark that we feel as it is applied as our reminder.

In Jesus’ time, people would walk around in sackcloth (essentially a burlap sack) and put dust or ashes on their heads to show that they were either repenting from something or in mourning. And because they believed that sins could lead to suffering the two reasons for walking around with ashes on their bodies were very similar. They would let the world know they were turning away from something. They wanted to whole world to know their sins and pain.

But, Jesus came along and said that is not what God wanted. God wanted them to repent in a more private manner. If they are fasting they should put oil on their head and wash their face. The fast God chose is different from what humans choose when they fast. We want everyone to know we are fasting, Jesus proclaims that isn’t necessary because God already knows that you are fasting and the reason behind that fast.

So what is the fast that God chooses and what does that mean for us? God chooses a different kind of fast than we typically understand the word fast. We think it has to involve giving up something for the next 40 days. Actually, its more than 40 days because you get to break the fast every Sunday. We give up things like candy, meat, soda, caffeine, sweets, TV, facebook, etc. These things get so involved in our life that we think giving them up is so difficult that we offer that denial up to God as our fast during Lent. Others will take on extra duties and responsibilities as part of their Lenten discipline. Both of these are acceptable, but is that really what God chose as his fast?

In today’s reading, Isaiah speaks for God and describes the fast God chooses. It’s not what we might consider a fast by today’s standards and today’s culture. Isaiah asks if humbling yourself in sackcloth and ashes with your head down for the whole world to see is the fast God chooses. Because this fast only serves to make us have righteous justification for looking down on others who don’t do the same. Our fast should be lasting and mirror what God wants. That is why we mark ourselves to remember this fast.

Our fast should be one of destroying the bonds of injustice where we find them; lifting oppression anywhere we find it and setting people free. Sharing our bread with the hungry and bringing the homeless and poor into all aspects of our lives, including our homes. Clothing those who need basic articles of clothing. Isaiah says “if you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. You shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.”

This fast is something that we can do as sailors. It’s hard to give up certain foods for 40 days while underway or working crazy hours. It’s hard to give up caffeine when coffee may be the only drink available. That kind of fast is setting you up for failure and the frustration that comes with it. It’s more like a New Year’s resolution rather than a spiritual discipline, which will change your life and mold you to be like Christ.

The fast God chooses is life changing, done in private and becomes natural. This fast lasts more than 40 days. This fast changes other people. This fast doesn’t require outward signs that you are fasting because when you participate in this fast, people can’t help but know that you are marked. These ashes remind us of this fast, the fast that God chose. The same fast that God asks you to choose today.

Remembering Guadalcanal

I’ve been out to sea for almost a month, so no real activity on the blog because not much noteworthy happens on an open ocean transit. But, sometimes an amazing opportunity presents itself.

One of the great things about this who Navy Chaplain gig is that I get to travel to some amazing places and am provided with opportunities that most pastors never consider possible. I was honored and humbled to participate in a remembrance service off the coast of Guadalcanal this past week.

The CO of the ship on which I am currently embarked received a note in his suggestion box regarding a family connection with a survivor of the Battle of Guadalcanal. The sailor briefly described how is grandfather was in the battle and the ship he was on sank in Savo Sound, commonly referred to as Iron Bottom Sound because there are 46 warships resting on the bottom following 6 months of battles. This sailor also wrote that it was a dream of his since joining the Navy to make it to that specific spot in the ocean.

On the same night the sailor placed the suggestion, he stopped me in the passageway and gave me a brief rundown of how excited he was that he may travel close to the site of his grandfather’s ship. The next morning, the CO mentioned the note and asked me if I would put together a short service in case we passed close by the wreckage of the USS LAFFEY. As luck would have it, we were not only traveling through Savo Sound to refuel in Guadalcanal, our track was close enough that we could alter course slightly and pass directly over the LAFFEY.

I worked with the sailor and developed a short remembrance service to honor all who perished in the Guadalcanal campaign. This sailor created a memorial of sorts by adding a weight to his Dixie Cup (that is the trademark white cover that enlisted sailors wear) that he could place in the water and have it rest close to the ship.

With everything set, about 40 of us gathered on the flight deck as we departed Guadalcanal and with both Guadalcanal and Savo Island in clear view we conducted a short ceremony. In addition, the sailor chose to re-enlist in the Navy in the same spot in which his grandfather survived a major naval battle and the sinking of his ship.

No matter how long I am a chaplain, I will always remember two things about this whole experience off Guadalcanal. The look on a sailor’s face when I told him that the CO wanted me to do a ceremony to honor his grandfather and fulfill a life long dream of that sailor. And, the fact that I was called upon by a ship to conduct a ceremony in some historic waters, somewhere I may never have the opportunity to set my sight upon again.

This is what being a chaplain is all about.

Sacramental Children

This weekend I had the pleasure of seeing two children participate in sacraments in ways that really show what theology means. On Friday I had the honor of baptizing a two-month old in the bell of one of my ships. This is a long Navy tradition and the baptism on Friday was the 6th in the short history of the USS Kidd. When his father handed him over to me, a complete stranger, he was upset and began to cry which is significant because every day we don't want to leave our comfort to follow Christ. The call on our lives is difficult and I think that deep down, when we baptize infants they understand what is happening in a way adults just tend to blow off. That water on their heads is shocking and causes many to cry out much like a two-month old did on Friday. I think that they also know that some people made a difficult promise on their behalf and they are none too happy about that. But something else happened on Friday. An infant accepted the water and calmed down as I walked him around to see his new family. He found a new comfort on the other side of discomfort, a lesson we could all learn from this particular child.

And this particular sacrament has meant something to a number of people as the photo below, taken by my fellow DESRON Chaplain is probably the most commented on photo I have ever posted on Facebook. It is a moment that many others have wanted to participate in from afar:

As if that wasn't a significant object lesson, on Sunday I saw something I have never seen nor imagined. The church I attended shared communion and they participate in a manner I haven't seen elsewhere in that they pass two plastic cups stacked together. The bread in the bottom cup and juice in the top cup. Well, as they were passing out the elements they missed a 4 year old girl and her father who were sitting in the pew in front of me. The first time an elder walked by the pew, the girl started to feverishly look around wondering when they were going to serve her and her father. As a second elder passed near she locked her eyes on him like tractor beams and was doing her best to will him to see her and serve them the elements. Unfortunately, he too passed the little girl and her father without skipping a beat.

Then, she burst into tears. It took me a second to realize that she was crying because they forgot to serve her communion. A four year old who was so distraught at the possibility of not partaking in communion that she was crying. How many adults view the importance of communion in such a manner that we will make a scene if we can't partake? Do we view it as something of significance rather than just a part of worship to get through quickly to get to lunch or home to watch the game? I have to admit, in that moment I felt wholly unworthy to partake. So I did what anyone should do when a four year old is schooling you in theology. I leaned forward and gave her the elements I had received. She wanted and needed it more than me. And through her I participated in one of the more memorable and truest communion meal I have ever had the privilege of partaking in.

Poppies over Parades

As someone on Active Duty, it gets real annoying every November 11th as my Facebook feed explodes with people saying Happy Veterans Day. I've never understood why we call this a happy day. I sometimes think we focus on the day off and happy thoughts to forget why this day even matters.

At the end of World War I (the war to end all wars), an armistice took effect at 1100 on November 11th. In the years after that war, the day was set aside to remember all those who participated in such a brutal war that saw the advent of trench warfare and poison gas against troops. Armistice day was designed for parades, public meetings and a brief suspension of business (most would participate in two minutes of silence at 1100). After World War II and the realization that war may never end, remembrance was set aside on Memorial Day (a holiday from the Civil War) and Veterans Day was established to remember all who served in any war.

Perhaps we need to get back to remembering Armistice Day rather than seeing which corporation can offer the best freebies to the military. Because in doing so we have lost sight of two things. First, war is horrible, brutal and has long lasting effects. Armistice Day stood as a hope for peace, a hope to never have to send young men against their will to fight other young men holding weapons against their will across a field over an argument neither of them really had any true understanding of. I'm no pacifist, and realize that we will probably always have war and will sometimes need to resort to force in protecting the innocent. But that doesn't mean we can't work towards truly making the next war the last war as was the hope on that initial Armistice Day in 1918. If that is the reason you are saying thank you and not putting the military on some weird pedestal, then go right ahead.

Second, I think we don't want to keep the original impetus behind Armistice Day because we don't want to reflect on the sadness that comes with service in the military. We in America love to think happy thoughts and will do almost anything to avoid dealing with death and dark things. We can't run from it. If we avoid the dark side of military service we end up with a Veterans Administration that doesn't really help veterans with problems because they aren't living into the narrative we want. We end up with veterans on the street and unemployed because employers are scared their PTSD is a ticking time bomb. We honor the dead on Memorial Day and those who currently serve on Veterans Day because they aren't going to speak up about the horrors of war and what we ask our young men and women to do on our behalf.

Two years ago I was in Afghanistan when one of British civilians working with our battalion came into a meeting a few weeks before Veterans Day wearing a red poppy on his lapel. I had no idea why he was wearing a flower, so I asked. He talked of how that was the tradition on his side of the pond from November 1st until Armistice Day (sometimes called Remembrance Day) to honor those who served and died. He then told me of a poem "In Flanders Fields" by John McCrae written in 1915 that inspired the wearing of the poppy. It made me think that we have lost sight of the hopes of those who served in WWI. I have included it below:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   Loved and were loved, and now we lie
         In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
   The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
         In Flanders fields.

Maybe we can learn more about ourselves and reignite the hope that this war is the last war if we were to heed the words of this poem and spend more time wearing poppies than celebrating on a day like today. 

Greatest Job in the World

I know it has been quite a while since my last post, but I've been busy taking a vacation in Europe, driving across country and settling in at the new command. Seeing how I'm out to sea again tomorrow I figured I'd stop by here briefly and provide a glimpse into life with the Surface Warriors.

The hours are essentially the same, just replace all the time out in the field with time underway (especially this month as I am underway at least one day each week this month). So instead of spending nights out in the woods under the stars, I spend the night floating on the ocean in a bed and can go to the bridge wing to see the stars. And if the ship pulls in late I get to see San Diego from the harbor at night, which is an amazing sight and make me glad I was called to ministry in the Navy.

I deal with the same types of issues with Sailors that Marines face, just a bit more in demand due to a larger number of people in this command. During Chaplain school there seemed to be a bit of an urban legend that only the Marines knew how to utilize chaplains and would treat us better than the Navy. Based on my experience with 6 different command I can say that isn't the case. Every ship in our squadron wants their own chaplain which makes my services in demand and they roll out the red carpet for me when I am on board. It has been a great 6 weeks so far and I expect it will be just as rewarding and exciting when they force me to move in two years.

I can't think of a better calling than as a Navy Chaplain. Its never dull and we get to live in wonderful cities and work with amazing people.

Just one view from my "office:"

Faith and Leadership

This is the link to a reflection piece I wrote following the tragedy in Hawthorne, NV:

http://www.faithandleadership.com/content/russ-ferguson-beauty-the-midst-chaos-and-carnage

Bridgeport Memorial Service

We held a memorial service out at Bridgeport, CA a few days after the accident that took the lives of seven of our Marines. Due to the lack of computer time, I had to write out my comments and as tends to happen Mr. Murphy showed up and the motivated Marines that immediately returned the podium to its rightful place removed my notes with said podium. So I had to wait for the DVD to transcribe what I said that evening and today with NMCI down for the count I had the opportunity to listen and type at the same time. Below is what I said in the immediate aftermath of the tragedy and sets the stage for what I said last week at the public memorial service. I publish these remarks today as the families of 1/9 were not afforded the opportunity to attend this service and may never get their hands on one of the DVDs.

What now? Other than why, that is probably the most frequent question I hear and the one that is probably the most prominent on the mind of everyone in this hangar. Where do we go from here? What do we do? What do we say to our friends, the families, to each other? This is my take. We get through this and we go on together. But that is easier said than done. So, what now?

First, we remember. We come together tonight and hear stories that remind us of the treasures that we lost. We go to an airport and help our brothers start their long journey home. We laugh and joke about them over a beer. But we must remember that we can never drink Monday night away. It will always be with us so we remember together than to attempt to forget alone. We also need to remember the heroic acts of people sitting with us tonight and people in hospital rooms in Reno. They saved lives.

We heal together. Remembering allows space for our emotions to run. Talking together eases our pain and soothes the wounds. You do not need me or the OSCAR to heal. But if you need to talk with one of us, I am always here for you. As the pain fades, we can acknowledge what happened and then we can see the moments of beauty among the chaos and carnage. I knew this battalion had started to heal at about 1300 on Tuesday. When I saw a crowd gathering and I thought it was the First Sergeants giving a brief about the movement plan to get on the buses. As I walked up I saw it wasn’t a First Sergeant led brief, actually no one was talking. People were walking up and putting stuff on the hillside. As I got closer I saw that the 81’s platoon had started a memorial of rocks they had written on. By the time I got there people were putting their ranks on the memorial. I have told everyone that at that moment, I knew we were going to get through this together. This kind of healing lets us tell the stories of Ripp, Josh, Joshua, Rog, David, Mason and Billy.

And we live. We honor our fallen by living a full and vibrant life. WE let their stories meld into our stories and we carry on their dreams. WE make their families ours and incorporate them into our lives. We don’t let defeat us. We show death that it is not worth being our enemy. Because life is our friend. Death pisses us off, so we fight death by helping others to live it. Live the life those we send off on the angel flight wants us to live. If that guides us the memory of Josh, Joshua, Mason, Rog, David, Billy and Ripp will never be forgotten.