The Word Works: Reflections on 9/11

It's my generation's Pearl Harbor, our JFK assassination. We all remember where we were when the planes struck the World Trade Center. For me, that Tuesday morning found me in Hannover, North Dakota. I'd stayed with a pastor friend and his family for a little extra break after our Monday meeting with the pastors of our Circuit. Usually when I woke up at their house, my friend had already left for his study at the church. This particular morning he was still at home when I emerged from the guest room, and he was watching the television with rapt attention. I wandered over, and I was assaulted with the sight of smoke and flames billowing out of the first of the towers to be struck. My horror increased as we watched the second plane strike. I watched for a little longer, and then I jumped in my car without a shower to make the 150 mile trip back to my own parsonage. While on the road, I did something I never do: I listed to the radio, searching for news reports emerging from New York City--and then Washington D.C. and Somerset, Pennsylvania. I spent time on the phone between no-reception zones trying to get in touch with my sister and her husband who lived outside of New York City. I knew they lived far enough away, but maybe my sister had taken her class on a field trip to the World Trade Center that day? I didn't know, and I didn't hear back from my family until later in the day that they were okay. It's a day I will never forget: the confusion, the fear, the images, the uncertainty, the grief, the anger, and a whole host of other things.

Chaplain Kavouras

On this anniversary of that horrible terrorist attack--not to mention the anniversary of the terror in Benghazi a year ago (and I'm sure not mentioning Benghazi today would make the current administration very happy)--I didn't want to just throw out my narcissistic musings on the day and what it means. Instead I picked up and read a book I first read over a decade ago. The book is called Nine One One: The Aftermath--the Word Works. It is a compilation of the chaplain reports of the Reverend Dean Kavouras, an LCMS pastor who also serves as chaplain to the police and fire departments of Cleveland, Ohio, and the Cleveland Division of the FBI. Chaplain Kavouras served the workers in Somerset and those in Staten Island who searched the refuse from the World Trade Center for human remains. His reports show the power of the Word of God at work in the lives of people who spent long hours in an earthly hell in service to the families of those lost their lives on that awful September day.

Dean with my son Michael

These days my wife and I are friends with Pastor Kavouras and his beautiful wife, Barb. At the time, however, I only knew Pastor Kavouras from Internet interaction. Nevertheless, I was blessed to read these reports as they first came out. Rereading them today was a potent reminder of the power of God to do mighty work for the good of His people in the midst of the greatest of evil and the greatest of tragedies. Chaplain Kavouras and his faithful words and service guided me as I spoke with acquaintances and family after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita in 2005 and Hurricanes Gustav and Ike in 2008. His example also inspired me as I wrote my Thy Strong Word series of novels, where the main character is both a parish pastor and a chaplain to his local fire department. His guidance helped Pastor Corwin sound like a real pastor and chaplain instead of a bumbling idiot.

The national legacy of 9/11 is a curious one: wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the molestation of American citizens in the name of tightened airport security, political maneuverings, and in some cases the limiting of the freedoms for which this nation was founded. There has been a shift toward watching American citizens who exercise those freedoms with suspicion and fear. Homeschoolers, gun owners, Christians, political conservatives, and others are on terror watch lists. At the same time, the President of the United States refuses view a Muslim soldier who goes on a killing spree on Fort Hood while yelling "Allahu Akbar" as a terrorist or the attack as a terrorist attack.

As an American, as a Christian, as a pastor, as a husband and father, on days like today it's important to remember that "we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places (Ephesians 6:12)." We are under constant attack from "the old evil foe," as Luther calls Satan, and it is true that "on earth is not his equal." Yet the victory is not the devil's, for our Lord Jesus Christ has defeated Satan with the sacrifice of His body and blood on the cross and with His glorious resurrection. That victory is applied to us in the waters of Holy Baptism, where we are marked with the name of God and clothed with the righteousness of Christ. Nothing this world and its prince can do to us can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I checked, and Nine One One: The Aftermath by Chaplain Kavouras is available from Lutheran Heritage Foundation. Call 1-800-554-0723 or send an e-mail to info@LHFmissions.org to order a copy. I cannot give this book a sufficiently fervent recommendation compared to what it deserves.

I pray you find comfort on this anniversary from the words of St. Peter, words which Chaplain Kavouras often drew upon in ministering to those entrusted to his care by the Lord:

Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world. But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you. (I Peter 5:6-10)

The Pastor's Heart in War with Death

I've been a pastor nearly thirteen years now. In all that time, the hardest thing I've ever had to do is bury a child. This was in my first parish, and I'd only been a pastor for about a year and a half. I received a phone call late in the evening from the father of the family. His wife had been delivered of a child, but she died that same day. The baby had been baptized by a pastor who was in the hospital that day--thanks be to God, for the sake of the child and the family both, that they have been able to take comfort in Baptism. But it fell to me, as their pastor, to bring the Word of God to bear, to try to bring comfort in the midst of a time of terrible affliction. I stayed with the family in the funeral home the evening before the funeral, bringing the Word to them and praying for and with them. And then the funeral was the next day. I don't remember very much of that day (except for a fortuitous meeting outside the church after the committal as I was leaving for the dinner), but I do remember parts of the sermon (which is sad, because I quoted "Away in a Manger" and I still can't sing it without tearing up) and I remember the tiny little coffin as it rested in the front of the sanctuary. I've tried to lay my own grief to rest concerning this child, but it never fully goes away.

A lot of that came to mind today as I carried my congregation's funeral pall into the sanctuary of a neighboring congregation. Four children from a nearby community died in a fire set by an arsonist this past weekend, and as it so happened, the children were baptized members of a Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod congregation. As I walked in, I could see the four caskets lined up at the communion rail. The funeral director and his colleagues were there, working on the logistics and arrangements. I took the pall to the pastor's study, and we came out to the sanctuary to figure out with the funeral director how to make a full-sized pall fit on a casket less than half the size of the usual casket. That was when the funeral director broke down--probably not for the first time, and certainly not for the last. When the pastor and I took the pall back into the office area, I asked how he was doing, and he mentioned that this funeral was on the heels of two other funerals, one of which was done on short rest after ministering to this family after the fire. He said that the funeral he did that day--a funeral for a mature Christian who lived a full life and was a lifelong member of the congregation--would usually have been easy, but that he was emotional during that funeral because of this situation. I certainly understand that. My only involvement in this funeral is delivering a pall, and I found myself getting emotional.

Being a pastor can be pretty easy at times. Preach a sermon; lead the liturgy; teach Bible study; hold Catechism instruction; visit the hospital; see the shut-ins. Even things like funerals are usually not so bad, because usually it's an elderly member of the congregation who has lived a full life, or it's a member who has been sick and suffering for a long time, and the suffering has now ended. But burying a young person is hard--and I can only imagine burying four at the same time is exponentially harder. There stands the Law. This is the wages of sin laid out before you in as horrible a manner as you will ever see it. You can close your eyes or try to look away, but it's not going anywhere. You stand convicted. This is your fate. This is what you've earned. As the pastor in this situation, you are in that odd place where you are both a mourner and the one expected to bring comfort. You are expected to display a certain professionalism, and yet you can't help but remember holding them over the baptismal font, praying with them them in Sunday School, teaching them the catechism, and all the other times you've shared time with them over the course of their short lives. Reminders of the joy of baptism help ("I am baptized into Christ! I'm a child of paradise!"), but at that moment death and the grave seem very powerful.

A pastor has a heart. (In my case, I've had the x-rays to prove it; otherwise there are those who might not have believed it. *wink*) It doesn't turn off when he performs pastoral care, and it often works overtime for funerals. Even Jesus wept as He performed His duties. Displaying the love of Christ to the congregation he is called to serve means a pastor can't help but be overcome. That does not make him weak. That does not make him a poor pastor. He is doing what he has been chosen by God and selected by the congregation to do, and his own sorrow will not keep him from doing what he has been Called to do. He loves you with the love of Christ...and maybe even with a bit of his own love. Pray for him; share the Word of God with him; remind him of his own baptism; love him with Christ's love. More than anything, that is the greatest blessing you can give him, especially when he is called upon in times of tragedy. I can assure you, he prays for you, especially when death draws near.

In your prayers over the next little while, please remember the family and friends of the four Owen children who died in Percy this past week. Please also remember Pastor Janneke and the members of St. Mark Lutheran Church in Steeleville as they bring the comfort of the Word to bear in this terrible situation, and also remember Mr. Bill Wilson and his colleagues at the wonderful Wilson's Funeral Home as they serve the family. It is not easy to bury children--not for the family, not for the pastor or congregation, not for the funeral director.

When the going gets tough . . .

. . . the tough call the chaplain.

One of the things about being a pastor that is simultaneously invigorating and frustrating is that he's often called upon to interact with people at the lowest points in their lives: illness, suffering, destruction, and death. On the one hand, he's doing what he's been Called by God to do, and that keeps a pastor moving when it seems like the meetings are endless and the busy work becomes a heap on his desk. On the other hand, a pastor worth his salt tends to get emotionally involved with those he serves, and that can be draining when it's his constant diet.

Pastor Dean Kavouras of Cleveland, Ohio, is very good at walking that ever-so-thin line straddled by service and sanity. He served those who sifted through the remains of the World Trade Center after the 9/11 terrorist attacks. He serves as a chaplain for the FBI and for Cleveland Emergency Services. And He is also a faithful Lutheran pastor to a congregation. Yesterday he sent out what he calls a "Chaplain Field Report" in which he recounts a situation and the pastoral care he offered to those involved in that situation. This is, at times, what it is to be a pastor.

I warn you, the event recorded in this report may disturb you.

 

Chaplain Field Report
Cleveland, Ohio
June 1, 2011

Dear Friends:

The weather turned beautiful in Cleveland today, from a wintry/spring to instant summer.  But the devil also came to Cleveland on this fine day to offset its wonder with full strength dose of evil.  A 31 year old man went to the home of his lady friend and attempted to murder her 10 year old daughter by cutting her throat, and did murder her 5 year old son in the same manner.  The injured girl ran down the street to the nursing home where her mother is employed, and people there called the police.  When police arrived the suspect exited the house with a steak knife in his hand, refused all commands to drop the knife, and charged the officers.  All three discharged their weapons and stopped the suspect who was grievously wounded but is still alive at this time.

The event occurred in Cleveland, but at the last house before the Warrensville Heights border.  WHPD arrived first and did the shooting.  Cleveland police arrived shortly thereafter and so did WHFD, CFD and CEMS.  Because the incident occurred in Cleveland our crime scene unit processed the scene and all involved were understandably distraught.

For my part, I positioned myself in the driveway and spoke with individual officers as they took short breaks, and provided the presence of God via the Office of the pastor.  This brought comfort and the eternal perspective to a scene that desperately cried out to heaven for it.  There was no gallows humor today as there often is at crime scenes.  Instead I listened to people's reflections and gave theological answers and quotes from Scripture in reply.  The general message was that as dark as this situation is, death and the devil have been defeated by Jesus who entered into gruesome death for our sins, and rose again; also that at the end of the day God will sort it all out for us, but until then we will do the work He has given us to do, and lean on Him for comfort and strength at all times and in all places.

Once the process was complete and everyone was ready to leave I asked if anyone would like to gather for prayer.  There was no hesitation. We gathered on the sidewalk in front of the house.  I read the 23rd Psalm "yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and they staff they comfort me."  I also read from St. John's Gospel "Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid, you believe in God believe also in me...peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid."  I then prayed a spontaneous prayer taking in all the concerns that people had voiced.  We all joined the the Lord's Prayer and I gave the benediction.  As I spoke the final amen there was a brief silence and then one officer quipped with a smile: I hope the ACLU doesn't get a copy of this.  The humor was a good sign!

We said our good bye's and from there I went to the WH police station to see if I could be of any assistance to officers there since not all departments have a chaplain.  I spoke with the lieutenant on duty and he filled me in on the situation and condition of his people.  I then asked him where the fire station was since they, too, were knee deep in this incident.  He walked me to the next part of the complex which houses the fire department and met briefly with some of the personnel and heard more of the story from their perspective.  Since a Critical Incident Stress diffusing was scheduled to start soon I left, but on the way out I noticed several people from CEMS who were there early for the diffusing.  I spoke with them, listened to their story and had prayers for them.

From that horrific scene I came home to my 61st birthday party with all my kids and grandkids in attendance and we had a wonderful evening!  My wife, St. Barbara, planned it all out and the kids pitched in to help.  We began the meal by singing "Jerusalem The Golden," one of my favorite hymns and just what the doctor ordered. My son Theo played the piano and all the voices joined in, it was the perfect balm for such a day.  Tomorrow I will follow up with a few people and await the next call.

Thank you for reading.

Rev. Dean Kavouras, Chaplain
Cleveland Emergency Services
FBI - Cleveland Division

We do a disservice to our public servants who put their lives in danger day after day if we ignore the trauma they experience in dire situations, whether or not they themselves experience physical injury. Their service in explosive situations takes its toll on them, just as much as it does on those who are the victims of fires or violence or terrorism. Thanks be to God for men like Chaplain Kavouras whom God has equipped to bring the Word to bear for their sake. (And thanks be to God for the family that helps to sustain the chaplain when he comes home!)

I want to be Pastor Kavouras when I grow up.

Take your medicine!

I'm in quite the unique position right now. As an Ordained layperson, I get to see things from both sides of the communion rail. I hope this post doesn't come off sounding like sour grapes. Since I'm not a parish pastor at the moment, I'm not speaking about any particular congregation.


For the most part, Americans trust the professionals with whom they interact. When we call the doctor, we trust the advice they give and usually take the medicine they prescribe. After medical school and residency, we trust that a doctor generally knows what he's talking about. When we want our will drawn up, we call a lawyer. After all, that's what she went to law school for, and we trust that someone who has passed the bar exam can help us with legal issues. The same is true for most professionals, whether it's plumbers or architects or stylists or home security installers.

Sadly, the same cannot be said about how we interact with pastors. Too often pastors are viewed with skepticism. Sure, we extend Calls to these men to care for our souls, but when the rubber meets the road, too often we are ready to ignore what they have to say. Why do we not accord our pastors the same trust?

Let me share with you one example that I've encountered all over the country. Historically the Church and its congregations have received the Lord's Supper every Sunday. This practice fell by the wayside in Lutheranism during the 1700s, when it became common to offer the Lord's Supper only once every three months. For the most part Lutheran congregations have at least gotten back to the point where they offer the Eucharist twice a month on alternating Sundays. The Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod in convention has encouraged a return to offering and receiving the Sacrament of the Altar every Sunday, and our seminaries teach that this is a salutary practice. Nonetheless, many congregations resist this practice. One of the most common reasons given is, "If we have this too often, it will seem less special." I find it distressing that someone might think that the Lord's Supper could ever be less than special. After all, it is the body and blood of Jesus, given and shed for the forgiveness of sins; what could be more special?

But that's beside the point. When our doctor informs us we have an infection and tells us to take the penicillin until we have finished the prescription, we follow her directions. When our lawyer tells us we're facing criminal charges and tells us not to answer any questions without her being present, we listen. When the exterminator comes and tells us that we have an infestation, by all means we tell him to eradicate it. Yet when our pastor tells us that we can have the potent and efficacious remedy to sin and death every week, we tell him we'd rather not have it, that we don't need it.


Ideally, your pastor went to seminary for four years of intensive theological training, just as doctors and lawyers receive intensive training in their fields. He has worked diligently in the original languages of Scripture. He has studied church history and systematic theology. He has been trained to care for your soul. Though he is a sinner just like you, he brings you forgiveness in the stead and by the command of Jesus. This has nothing to do with the personality of the man who is your pastor and everything to do with the powerful gifts God delivers to you through him.

You are suffering the disease of sin, and there is no disease that is more terminal. Yes, you can read your Bible at home. Yes, God made the world, and He is present everywhere, so you don't have to go to church to be in His presence. But when your soul is in distress, this is no time to self-medicate. You are suffering the disease of sin, and there is no disease that is more terminal. Trust the man to whom God has given the care of your soul. Take the medicine he brings you from God as often as prescribed, whether it's the Lord's Supper, the Word of holy absolution, or the preaching of Law and Gospel. You cannot overdose, and this medicine will never fail you . . . even if the sinner who is your pastor does.

Pre-Marital Counseling for Cohabitation

My pastor--the pastor of the church I attend down here when I'm not filling in elsewhere--brought up the topic today of cohabitation when I stopped by his study to head to lunch with him. Every pastor has to deal with that in our day and age, and it's not often you see an answer that is both practical and God-pleasing. What do you do about couples who are coming to church to get married when they've been living together already? Some of them are coming to the altar with their children.

It's not often that a couple comes to you in a state of cohabitation and can honestly say, "No, we haven't had sex." That's the extremely rare exception, not the rule. So they're already living together and engaging in the act of procreation. Is it enough that they want to get married and rectify the situation?

No. It's a good step, but it's not the most important thing. If all you want to do is make official what you've already been doing, you can go to a justice of the peace for that . . . or find the local "marrying/burying pastor" who will do any official act for a bit of green in the pocket. For a God-pleasing resolution to the situation, first there must also be an admission that what has gone before is sin. It doesn't have to be rubbed in their faces, but they need to acknowledge before God and each other that they have sinned by their actions and inactions. Pre-marital counseling is a wonderful teaching moment. It's a wonderful thing to be able to tell a couple, "You have confessed your sin. Thanks be to God, your sins are forgiven in the name of the Father and of the Son (+) and of the Holy Spirit. It will be my joy to perform your wedding ceremony." That way, confession and absolution is at the heart of their marriage. When you can say without sarcasm to your husband or wife, "I was wrong; please forgive me," your marriage should be in great shape.

Thanks, Rich. It's great being able to talk shop with a brother.