Category Archives: Grieving

Jerry Coleman: The Streets of Heaven are Rejoicing

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It is, perhaps, fitting that this afternoon I finished reading Tom Wolfe’s book A Man in Full.

I strongly recommend the book, but its title became all the more poignant a few hours later when I got the sad news about Jerry’s death.

Tom Wolfe describes a man in full as someone whose accomplishments are larger than life, someone who causes everyone in the room to stand up when he enters the room.

Jerry did that.

He didn’t command people to respect them. He lived his life in a way that caused us to see him that way.

He started his public life in baseball. He joined the New York Yankees in 1949 and played in the the All Star game in 1950. He also played in 6 World Series. His playing career ended after the 1957 season.

He delayed his entry into major league baseball for World War II; in the middle of his career he was called back for the Korean War. He was an aviator in the USMC. He traded some of his best baseball years to defend his country. Hard to imagine that would happen today.

For those of us who weren’t alive for World War II or Korea, Jerry was a fixture with the San Diego Padres, as both a manager and a broadcaster.

He never bragged about his accomplishments and was honestly embarrassed by the attention he was given. We who followed the Padres knew well the phrases “Oh Doctor” and “You Can Hang a Star on That.”

Jerry, you were a man in full and we will miss you.

The Justice Chronicles Volume 13: Nelson Mandela (1918-2013)

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His death was supposed to be a footnote. It was supposed to be a local story, buried in the inside pages of the paper: Imprisoned Terrorist Nelson Mandela dies in Prison.

It didn’t happen that way. In the days since his death he has made worldwide headlines. Frankly, it was time. He was 95 years old and had been in critical condition since developing a lung infection nearly 6 months ago. He was home but his home was transformed into an intensive care unit.

Mr. Mandela’s life story is largely public and known. After becoming a lawyer in apartheid South Africa he joined the African National Congress. He first embraced the idea of nonviolence in battling apartheid, but later abandoned that and co founded a militant wing called Spear of the Nation. Because of his actions he needed to go underground, but was found and arrested in 1962. Tried and convicted of trying to overthrow the government, he expected to be sentenced to death but instead was sentenced to life in prison.

For the next 27 years he languished in prison. By the 1970s and 1980s he became the public face of the injustice of apartheid, even though there were no pictures taken of him since 1963. His release from prison in 1990 seemed a miracle.

But for me, his release wasn’t the miracle. It’s what happened to him while in prison and how he sculpted post apartheid South Africa. While nobody knew in 1990 how he would spend the rest of his life, many feared he would take the opportunity to exact revenge on those who harmed him. They feared he would respond to injustice with injustice of his own.

He didn’t. After his election as President of South Africa in 1994 he founded the Truth and Reconciliation Committee. He knew that truth must come before reconciliation, and that reconciliation is the only path to true peace. As I think about this, I can’t help but remember Archbishop Tutu’s belief about forgiveness:

Forgiving is not forgetting; its actually remembering–remembering and not using your right to hit back. Its a second chance for a new beginning. And the remembering part is particularly important. Especially if you don’t want to repeat what happened.

His time in prison changed him from someone who advocated violent resistance to someone who saw that revenge only continues the cycle of violence. He loved his nation and that love healed him of his anger toward his captors.

We are all better for it. Much like Gandhi and Martin Luther King before him, he taught us the ferocious power of love and forgiveness. I’m grateful that Mr. Mandela is the only one of the three to not die violently.

For those of us who live on, our mandate is clear: we are called not only to stop tolerating injustice, we are called to forgive those who benefited from it. Once those who create or benefit from injustice are defeated, we must not exact revenge on them. Their sin must be called out, but they must be forgiven. Only then will there be peace.

Now It's the Navy Yard: Here We Go Again

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On September 16th Aaron Alexis, a civilian contractor working for the Navy, came onto the campus of the Navy Yard in Washington D.C. Unbeknownst to anyone he was carry a Remington 870 shotgun that he legally purchased at Sharp Shooters gun store and firing range. This shotgun is often called a “riot gun” because it has a short barrel and can carry 6 to 10 shells at a time; this makes it particularly useful for law enforcement in riots and other crowd control.

Unfortunately we’ve also learned it’s an effective weapon for a lone shooter to kill lots of people in a short time. By the time law enforcement shot and killed Mr. Alexis, 12 other people lay dead, and several more were wounded.

It feels a little local to me. I grew up in Woodbridge, Va. (about 20 miles south of Washington D.C.). My father was a government employee for his career and my sister is currently a civilian employee of the Army. The gun store that sold the shotgun is 10 miles from my childhood home and Kathleen Gaarde (who was one of the people killed) lived 3 miles from my high school.

I’m struck by how routine these events have become. The National Rifle Organization continues its undefeated run of blaming everyone but themselves and making clear that any politician who strays from their message will be targeted for reelection.

Mr. Alexis came to September 16th with a long history of mental illness, but also an honorable discharge from the Navy and the ability to get a job as a contractor. It’s frighteningly easy to look at his mental illness, proclaim that “those people shouldn’t have guns,” and pretend there is nothing else to do.

There is much else to do and somewhere we need to find the moral courage begin the job of keeping us safer. I confess I’m weary of politicians who dare not speak the truth out of a fear of losing their jobs. While there is no good reason for cowardice, keeping your job at the expense of human lives is particularly bankrupt. These riot shotguns are not meant for hunting game: they are designed to kill people and they are very good at that. It makes sense for the military or law enforcement to have access to these guns but there is no good rationale for civilian ownership.

I’m not one on those “anti-gun nuts.” I understand that people own guns for a variety of reasons: some are collectors, some are hunters, and some are protecting home and family. I don’t collect guns, I don’t hunt, and I don’t own anything I would kill to keep. But I do respect the rights of those who do collect, hunt, or protect.

OK, now what do we do with gun ownership among the mentally ill? It that really as easy as that? No, it’s not. The term “mentally ill” is simply vague, and current legislation is all over the map. The National Conference of State Legislatures (NCSL) has a web page that lists (state by state) laws that prevent the mentally ill from owning guns. According to this, the federal government prevents giving a gun to anyone who “has been adjudicated as a mental defective or has been committed to any mental institution.” Most state laws follow the same requirement: you can’t own a gun if you’ve been institutionalized or been found by a court to be mentally ill.

Mr. Alexis had several run ins with the law, but in none of them was his mental capacity examined. To that extent, the gun shop in Lorton did nothing wrong in selling him the shotgun.

So how do we prevent people who are mentally ill from getting guns? I think we should keep looking at this issue, but recognize that there’s never going to be a bright line. Mr. Alexis showed signs that indicate he may have been suffering from paranoid schizophrenia. In his delusional mind he thought he was he was being controlled by low frequency electromagnetic waves.

The world of mental illness is much broader than that. Mental illness also covers people who suffer from depression, bipolar disorder, and many other illnesses. Our brothers and sisters who live with these diseases often don’t seek help because of prejudices and the fear of being labeled “crazy.” They have learned that seeking help can often cost them jobs, friends, and social standing. In the ongoing attempt to protect their profits, the NRA wants to throw this group under the bus, and it works against those of us who want to take the fear out of seeking treatment for mental illness.

We can all agree that people who think they are being controlled by low frequency waves shouldn’t own a gun. But what about someone who seeks treatment for depression who knows that his quest will put him on a list that makes him too crazy for gun ownership? What if he comes from a family of deer hunters? If he seeks treatment, his entire family will know about it because he won’t be able to hide the reason he can’t buy a gun. Will it make him afraid to seek treatment, and turn managed depression into uncontrolled depression?

Certainly we need to keep guns out of the hands of people who are dangerous. But this needs to be paired with reasonable gun control. If the next shooter has access only to guns that require frequent reloading, this would save lives. It wouldn’t in any sense impair people who want guns for collecting, hunting, or protecting. We don’t need guns whose only purpose is to kill large numbers of people in a short time.

Be assured I’ll reference this article the next time there is a mass shooting.

Rest in Peace Paul

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I received word a few days ago that my friend and ordination classmate Paul Reynolds died suddenly of a heart attack. You can read his obituary here.

Paul was a rare person. He wasn’t flashy and never called attention to himself and was often so quiet you could forget he was there. But what you didn’t know is that Paul always knew you were there. He had an uncanny ability to evaluate a situation and know what needed to be done, and he did it. We were in seminary together from 1990 to 1993 and things didn’t always go smoothly. There were about 25 of us and we were all trying to figure this priesthood thing out. There were conflicts, friendships that developed and ended, hellos and goodbyes, and painful decisions made. All through it while the rest of us were raging against this belief or that comment, Paul would stay in the background watching and listening. Later, he would quietly make sure that the kind word or reassuring affirmation happened where it needed to happen.

The last time we saw him was May of 2012 in Boston. He was navigating his work at MIT and priesthood and the difficulty of that balance clearly weighed on him, but you would never know it to talk with him. His heart was always so kind and generous, it’s no wonder that’s what eventually gave out. Rest well Paul, and enjoy the banquet feast of Heaven.

Boston Strong and Proud

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A few weeks ago I went to see one of my hospice patients. It was an ordinary visit, and the fact that she had the TV on wasn’t much of an issue: she often mutes the TV when I see her. That day the mute TV caught our attention. I hadn’t paid much attention to the fact that the Boston Marathon and Patriot’s Day was April 15th.

Now I’ll never forget it. On that day, in that place, two men decided to strike a blow. Tamerian and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev planted two bombs that exploded about 3:00 PM at Copley Place, the finish line of the marathon. The bombs were intended to kill as many people as possible and were scheduled when the largest number of runners were crossing the finish line. On one level it worked: the bombs killed Martin Richard, Krystle Campbell, and Lingzi Lu. A few days later Sean Collier died in the line of duty during their capture.

No doubt the brothers thought this would bring Boston to its knees. Clearly they didn’t fully understand Boston. It’s a tough city: it was here that the Sons of Liberty started. They survived the Boston Massacre and the closing of Boston Harbor after the Tea Party.

I lived in Watertown in the early 1980s and I can tell you that no attack can do what they intended to do. The people of Boston are more resilient than anyone can imagine; they are stronger than anyone can imagine; they are more stubborn than anyone can imagine.

Of the two suspects, one is dead and the other is in custody. We are going to understand what happened and why, and we are going to judge the remaining suspect. We are going to move forward.

Boston will go on. Terrorism will not.

San Diego Hospice: 1977 – 2013

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On February 14, 1977 San Diego Hospice opened its doors to care for people with terminal illnesses. On February 13, 2013 we announced we were closing our doors forever.

I say “we” because since February 14, 2005 I have been an employee of San Diego Hospice.

So what happened? That’s a good question and I’m not sure we’ll ever completely know the answer. Perhaps it was Medicare who claims we were treating people who were not terminally ill. Or a disgruntled ex-employee who claimed to warn us of this but was fired for her efforts. Or mismanagement at the highest levels.

Or maybe it was a combination of all of these. On some level it doesn’t matter. The bottom line is that we are shutting our doors and asking our patients and employees to look elsewhere.

It’s been a hard road. For those of us on ground level (the ones with boots on the ground) we’ve done extraordinary work. We’ve come into peoples’ lives (and homes) and brought order to chaos, hope to despair, and calm to panic. We’ve taught people to die with dignity and we’ve taught caregivers to be miracle workers. We’ve shown countless people that while death is inevitable, suffering is not. Pain is not. Despair is not. I’ve cared for patients from age 3 days to 102 years and I’ve shown them – all of them – that their lives have meaning and their deaths have value.

Now we have to show that as an organization we can die with dignity. We are feeling our patients’ feelings and experiencing their experiences. The uncertainty, the bewilderment, the fear.

In 1950, while accepting his Nobel Prize, William Faulkner said this:

I believe that [we] will not merely endure: [we] will prevail.

He wrote this in the shadow of the Cold War where the United States and the Soviet Union were both building weapons of global destruction, but they speak to us on this day.

Hospice will prevail. Palliative medicine will prevail. Death with dignity will prevail.

Most importantly the smart, dedicated, committed and imaginative geniuses I work with will prevail.

When I am on hospice (hopefully decades from now) I will benefit from the work that was done at this place, in this time, with these people.

Blue Christmas and the Incarnation

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My colleague at San Diego Hospice, Lori Leopold, is a Methodist minister and has been a hospice chaplain for a little over 8 years. For the 2nd year in a row she has presided over a liturgy called “Blue Christmas” at La Jolla United Methodist Church. Their description of the liturgy is this:

The Blue Christmas Service is designed and offered especially for those who struggle during the holiday season. For anyone who has suffered a loss – the loss of health, the loss of a loved one or a pet, the loss of a job or a relationship – the holidays can be an especially difficult time of year. Just when our culture tells us we are supposed to be “merry and bright,” we can find ourselves feeling most lost and alone. It is an important time to draw close to God and allow God to draw close to us in a quiet, reflective service that acknowledges the reality of our wounds and the graciousness of God who comes to meet us there.

This year Nancy and I attended and I’m grateful we did. I expected this to be akin to “I know it’s a hard time of year but it’s going to be OK.” Lori’s preaching turned it into something much more. She spoke about how during times of despair, loneliness, and separation the Incarnation (birth of the Savior) is all the more poignant. Christ came for all of us, but most importantly for those in most need. The pastor of the church read from 1 Kings 19:1-16. Here is the text of Lori’s homily:

I love this passage from 1 Kings. It has intrigued me for as long as I’ve been familiar with it. It feels deep and rich, whispering of something profound and holy. And while this section is a small piece of a much larger story, I want to focus just on this small piece tonight. The prophet Elijah, fleeing for his life, becomes overcome by despair. He finds himself deep in the wilderness, sitting beneath a solitary broom tree and is so overwhelmed that he asks God to take his life. An angel encourages and enables him to continue on his journey and he winds up at Mt. Horeb where he is told to go out and stand on the mountain because the Lord is about to pass by.

The scripture says that as Elijah stood there, a great wind came up, so strong that it broke rocks into pieces, but that God was not in the wind. And the wind was followed by an earthquake, but again, God was not in the earthquake. And the earthquake was followed by a fire, but God was not in the fire. But after the fire, came the sound of sheer silence – and God was in the silence. And it was out of that silence that God spoke to Elijah about where he should go from there.

Can you imagine? There was Elijah, waiting, probably breathlessly, for the Lord to come, for the Lord to pass by. And all of these dramatic things began to happen – wind and earthquake and fire. But each time we hear that God was not in the dramatic event. That God was not contained in the wind, the earthquake or the fire. Now that’s certainly not to say that those dramatic events were coincidental, because it was the coming of God that set all of those things into motion. They wouldn’t have happened if God weren’t passing by. But they did not contain the holy – they were not the way that God chose to reveal Godself. God revealed Godself not in the flash of those happenings, but rather in the pure silence. In fact, the scripture goes on to show that God revealed Godself to Elijah in a way that was gentle, in a way that was understandable, in a way that was personal and in a way that was purposeful.

And I think that this scripture passage holds a lot of meaning for us as we contemplate the Christmas season, maybe especially if we, like Elijah, find ourselves in a time searching, struggling, despairing. It’s easy to identify the flash, the flurry, the whirlwind, the dramatic and out of the ordinary things that happen around Christmas. The decorations and lights and card writing and baking and singing and shopping and holiday parties. All of those cultural Christmas traditions are something akin to the wind and the earthquake and the fire. They are the things that happen around Christmas. And as it was with the wind and the earthquake and the fire, our Christmas flurry is, in some way, set in motion by God’s coming. Because, chances are, we wouldn’t be doing all of this if the Christ child hadn’t come in the first place. It is to God’s coming, to the incarnation, that we have attached 2000 years worth of tradition, layers of stuff that, in some way, shape or form, point back to the heart of Christmas.

So when we peel away the layers of activity, when we peel away all of the stuff that’s accumulated around Christmas, we return, really, to the heart of things. We come down to the stillness, the silence of one holy night. A night when God came, so like God, not in the furiousness of a wind storm, not in the dramatic shaking of an earthquake, not in the searing heat of a fire, but when God came into the world in a way that was gentle, in a way that was understandable, in a way that was personal and in a way that was purposeful.

When I think about it, I always imagine that the vast darkness of that night swallowed up the sight and the sound of that small family in that small place. Or maybe I should say that I imagine that the night seemed to swallow up the sight and sound of them. Because we know that ultimately it did not. It could not. We know that the birth of that child – so small, so subtle, birthed into the holy stillness of that night was a flicker of light that would burn bright and eternal, changing the world and changing us forever.

There have been times in my life when despair has darkened the doorstep of my spirit. Despair over personal circumstances, despair over the violence that wreaks havoc in our world. I can’t imagine that there is one among us that wasn’t shaken to the core, shattered in some way, by the shootings in Connecticut last week. There have been times in my life when I have found myself beneath the proverbial broom tree. Perhaps you have been there too. Times when I wanted and prayed for a sign – a big, bold catastrophic sign, to assure me of God’s presence. I never got one. But what I’ve come to believe is that God is not forceful or showy, especially with those who feel particularly tender or wounded. Rather God reveals Godself lovingly and sometimes surprisingly in those precious moments of stillness and silence. God provides an unexpected angel or some small sustenance, strength for the journey, even when we may have many miles of wilderness left to go.

It is a great irony to me that those who are grieving oftentimes find themselves feeling utterly disconnected from Christmas. I was talking with a friend the other day and she said, “I hate Christmas.” She’s dreading it, can’t wait until it’s over. And it’s true that against the backdrop of all of the more superficial merriment, our grief can make us feel alien, alone, out of step with everything and everyone around us. But in reality, when we go back to the heart of things, peel away all those layers of fluff around Christmas, it is that aspect of all of us, the part of us that is wounded, that is broken hearted that God most wants to reach with the miracle of Christmas. How much we might miss if we tuck those aspects of ourselves away as if they’re somehow inappropriate in light of the holiday season. I believe, with all my heart, that what God wants from us this Christmas is to make those parts of ourselves available – to God, maybe to one another – that, resting in silence, we might receive the blessing of the One who came to love us, to encourage us, to heal us, to set us free.

Thank you Lori: it was an evening well spent. I have ahead of me many hours of thinking and praying on this.

America, Stop Listening to the NRA

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After the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary School the National Rifle Association went silent for a few days. Many of us were hoping they would either remain silent or consider a dialogue about gun safety. So much for that hope. NRA CEO Wayne LaPierre responded by saying that the only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun. The NRA is now calling on Congress to put an armed guard in every school in America.

That’s right: the answer to gun violence is more guns.

Years ago one of the NRA’s tag lines was “guns don’t kill people, people kill people.” Clearly gun violence happens only in combination of guns and people; I used to joke that the difference between the NRA and me was that I wanted to eliminate the guns and the NRA wanted to eliminate the people. I didn’t realize how right I was until now. They argue that the world is divided into good people and bad people, that bad people will always have access to guns no matter what we do, and (we) good people have to make sure we’re not outgunned.

Their “reasoning” is silly (and dangerous) on so many levels. First and foremost, we simply can’t divide our nation between good people and bad people: it’s not that simple. The overwhelming majority of us would never dream of turning a gun on anyone and I’ll admit that even nations that have restrictive gun laws haven’t completely eliminated gun violence. But we have way too many murders in this country only because there is easy access to guns, and guns that are too powerful for any other use.

Sandy Hook is a good example. We still don’t know the shooter’s motive but we do know what happened. His mother legally owned a number of powerful weapons. He had access to them and used them to kill 26 people and himself. If assault weapons were illegal there is no indication that he would have had the interest or opportunity to obtain them illegally. Whatever rage, loneliness, or other demon lived in his soul may have found a violent outlet, but it wouldn’t have killed 20 children and 6 adults.

Second, the NRA “solution” likely would not have worked. The shooter shot his way through the front door of the school. Had there been an armed guard in school he would have had to be at the entrance the shooter used (did your elementary school have only one entrance?) and be able to accurately fire the first shot. In my previous post I spoke of Texas Congressman Louie Gohmer’s suggestion that if the principal had been armed she could have prevented this. Yes, but only if she was carrying the gun and was able to outshoot an assault rifle.

And finally, we need to stop listening to the voices who insist that more guns equal more safety. The shooter’s mother was killed by her own weapon, and any gun in a school has the potential to be used accidentally. Lock it up? Sure, but that makes my point: any gun that is secured won’t be instantly available if needed.

We don’t need more guns. We need to get rid of the these “personal weapons of mass destruction.” Yes, I made that up.

And again, we need to tell our representatives that the NRA may target their seats, but they cannot target my vote.

It's Time to Stop the Moment of Silence. It's Time To Do Something

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You would have to live in a cave not to hear about the events on Friday at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut. It’s been an awful weekend for anyone with a conscience.

I have lots of feelings about this, but I have to confess I keep coming back to the issue of gun violence and the Second Amendment. I’m one of the people who believe that the 2nd Amendment mandates only a National Guard. Alas, the Supreme Court found in the case of District of Coumbia vs. Heller that there is an individual right to private gun ownership.

I’m willing to concede the right to own guns for hunting or protecting your home and family. I don’t have any desire to hunt and I worry that a gun for my own protection could be used against me (as it was with the shooter’s mother Nancy Lanza). But this allows for a fairly narrow slice of the guns we own. If you want to hunt you will probably use a rifle or a shotgun. Rifles normally carry 5 rounds before needing to reload. Shotguns need to be reloaded after one or two shots. If you’re hunting game this makes some sense.

If you have a gun for personal protection your needs can be met with a simple revolver. If someone breaks into your home in the middle of the night it’s hard to imagine that 6 shots won’t do what needs to be done.

I’m troubled by the proliferation of assault weapons. The last few decades have shown us rifles and handguns with incredibly high firepower. Adam Lanza showed up at Sandy Hook Elementary School with three guns: a Bushmaster Assault Rifle, a Glock 9mm pistol, and a SIG Sauer 9mm pistol. According to news reports he had hundreds of bullets and could have killed every teacher and child in the school. He shot himself only when he heard the sound of sirens. There are variations but the Bushmaster clip holds 30 rounds and is easy to reload.

Is this what our founders had in mind? I don’t think so. High power guns with huge clips are not designed for hunting or protecting. They are made for mass violence and they are incredibly successful. Had the shooter needed to reload after only 5 or 6 shots someone might have been able to disarm him.

We keep having the massacres, and yet we keep having these weapons. Why? The NRA and other gun lobbies are incredibly successful in convincing a small but powerful number of us that banning these guns won’t solve anything. They are also successful in telling our lawmakers that they will defeat any candidate who opposes them. The Sunday news shows covered the massacre and had no trouble finding people like New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg and California Senator Dianne Feinstein talking about the need for sensible gun legislation. The pro gun lobby was largely silent; the exception was Texas Representative Louie Gohmer who said that if the school principal had been armed she could have stopped the massacre.

Talk radio was not silent. Rush Limbaugh said this on his show Monday: “[P]art of the [liberal] agenda that was being advanced was, of course, gun control. And there was glee, there was excitement at the opportunity that was presented here.” Sorry, I can’t bring myself to link to Rush’s page. You can find it on the transcript on his web page.

I’m pretty outraged at being told that my reaction to this massacre was glee. This is not an opportunity to talk about sensible gun control, the massacre is reason we need to have this discussion.

For those of us who favor sensible legislation about guns, it’s time to move. It’s time to write to our representatives and tell them that we will support sensible legislation, no matter how much the NRA tries to block it. We need to tell them that we will not vote for NRA backed candidates, no matter how much money they spend.

We need our legislators to know that our vote is safe.

My prayers are with the victims.

Rest in Peace Senator McGovern

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Yesterday we got the sad news that Senator George McGovern died at 90 years old. His was a voice of my generation: though he lost badly, he ran for President against Richard Nixon and his wisdom persists.

He was an unabashed liberal in an era where it was often considered a dirty word. He was a gentleman who served in the House of Representatives from 1956 to 1960 and the Senate from 1962 to 1980. He ran for President in large part because he wanted an end to the war in Vietnam. He knew the dangers of war as he served in the USAAF during World War II. On December 15, 1944 while flying a mission over Austria he was struck by shrapnel and nearly killed. He was later awarded the Air Medal.

He came home and devoted himself to public service. He was an example of the best of the Greatest Generation. He opposed the war in Vietnam because, as he said, “I’m fed up to the ears with old men dreaming up wars for young men to die in.”

OK, here’s my favorite:

Every program that ever helped working people — from rural electrification to Medicare — was enacted by liberals over the opposition of conservatives. When people tell me they don’t like liberals, I ask, ‘Do you like Social Security? If so, then shut up!

On that quotation: my thanks to John Sheirer. He writes a blog on Real American Liberal. I needed to make sure the quotation was real and he responded in a matter of hours.