Letters from the Pacific…

I’ve told you before about my Master’s Thesis in Seminary- a study of letters written by Military Chaplains during World War II. I focused mainly on one chaplain, Rev. Russell Stroup, who served both combat and non-combat units in the Pacific Theatre. Given that this Sunday is July Fourth, I thought it might be interesting not to write you myself, but instead to share one of my favorite passages from what he wrote, in the midst of terrible violence. FYI, this isn’t one of his letters, but from an essay he’d written from the frontlines, which was printed in The Atlantic (I’ll share with you some of his great letters later…). Nevertheless, I find his perspective on faith profound, challenging and as inspiring as it gets; I hope you feel something similar. At the very least, he makes you think deeper about the fullest meanings of Independence and Liberty.

So here it is, from the book (pages 134-5), Letters from the Pacific: A Combat Chaplain in World War II by Russell Stroup:

In the valley of the shadow of death there are chaplains, God forgive them, preaching the “gospel” of fear. Fortunately, they are few; but some there are, as in the churches back home, who raise the grim specter of death and fan the fires of hell, hoping to compel the men to seek the Father who has assured us that in that dark valley we need not be afraid…

Fear is an evil thing. You do not inspire that which is high and holy by appealing to that which is low and base. Soldiers know that, for they have been afraid. Facing agony and death, they have met the coward that lies hidden in the heart of every (person) and have hated (that coward). Their one noble fear is that they may be afraid. How, then, can they have patience with preaching that is based on an emotion they loathe for its shameful power to degrade a (person)?

Nor are they moved by threats. It is not a question of whether or not they believe in hell. They have lived, many of them, in its borderland. But a threat is no less odious because it is backed by reality… I have known many more men who rejected Christ because they faced death than I have men who accepted him for that reason. Rightly or wrongly, they refused to be moved by the threat of danger to do what they had not done before. Again and again soldiers have said to me, “After I get out of this, I’ll be a Christian; but not now.”…

I heard a lot of tommyrot in the States about men accepting God in foxholes because they were afraid. Someone who knows these men should kill that damnable lie. I have seen many men give themselves to Christ in the combat zone, but they were not driven by fear or compelled by threats. They were sobered by reality, chastened by adversity, challenged by Divinity. Had an attempt been made to frighten or threaten, they would have turned away. The true appeal of Christ is not to men’s craven fears but to their highest courage. He does not speak to the coward that crouches in every man’s heart, but to the hero that lives in every man’s soul… When we say to men, “God needs you and his Kingdom tarries on your coming,” they will leave all and follow him. When we approach them not with threats but a challenge we will be talking their language. When we offer them not security but sacrifice- a sacrifice of themselves for humanity- then they will deny themselves and take up a cross…

They are eager for a faith to live by, but it must be a faith for life and not for death. They know how to die! We must show them how to live…

Next time anyone asks, “Why be Christian?” Just quote that. Happy Independence Day.

Grace and Peace,

Shane

Ps- Thanks to all in our church who served our country, especially those who served in, or cared for those who served in WWII. Untold gratitude is yours.
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Moving Day...

I had a college buddy named Patrick, who was as free a soul as I’ve ever met. Hailing from New York City, Patrick invariably infused any conversation he entered with hilarity and unpredictability, whether you wanted him to or not. And let’s be honest- mostly, you wanted him to.

One day, though, I learned something surprising about my chaotic, rambunctious friend. It was nearing winter break. People were preparing to head home, and I found Patrick outside his car in the parking lot near our house, smiling his triumphant smile we all knew so well. Assuming he’d successfully caused mischief (again), I said something like, “Hey Patrick! You didn’t just get us in trouble, did you?” He looked over, confused, “Shane, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, and probably wouldn’t like it if I did.” “Fair Enough. But what’s with the stupid grin?”

And he waved his hands at his open car trunk, showcasing what he obviously considered a great achievement. “Look!! Beautiful, isn’t it?” I looked, saw lots of stuff neatly stuffed into his vehicle, but…“Patrick, help me understand what I’m seeing.” “Are you kidding?!” he screamed, “This is a masterpiece! Can’t you see just how much I fit into this trunk!?” He then explained his unifying theory of trunkpacking- how learning to pack your own trunk well is a crucial step in the development from adolescence into manhood. So I looked again, and yes, it was impressive. Though I admit, I was more surprised that Patrick could be organized about anything, trunkpacking included. Which I decided not share with him. I simply said, “Good work, man.”

(I have since become Patrick; ask my wife. I get inordinate pleasure from seeing how much I can cram, without breaking stuff, into one space- trunks, backseats, closets. We all need hobbies, right?)

Well, soon enough Plymouth Creek will need to put its organizing skills to the test again (and not just for another re-re-reorganizing of the Storage Closet). On Saturday, July 24, we’re having an All-Church Workday to flip-flop the Library/Adult SS Room/YBR Office and the Children’s Sunday School Space; start time, 9:30 AM. I’ve mentioned this change before, but the time to act is now upon us. What’s happening is that Yellow Brick Road Childcare needed to lease more space to keep their operations going in our facility, and thus, provide more kids the impressively loving, educational style of childcare that they do. So we offered to open our doors wider to these partners in mission, and switch the function of a couple rooms in the process. Room 2 (Children’s Sunday School, currently) will become the Library/Adult SS/YBR Office, while the current Library will become Children’s Sunday School and the new YBR Toddler Room. Youth and Choir Rooms are unaffected. YBR will use their ‘new’ space Mon-Fri, packing things up on the weekends, like they already do in Fellowship Hall (a packing job to make Patrick and me jealous!). Then, we’ll have space to love on and teach faith to children during weekends. Got that?

I’m beginning to think of our building like a trunk. With two major building partners, and the occasional Brownie Troop or special function, things can get tight in the hallways and storage spaces. Fitting these all together without breaking or doing damage to things is challenging, to be sure, and I hope we’ll all work harder to support the organizational efforts of our members and leaders (i.e. pick up after ourselves and others, don’t dump old stuff into random rooms, keep spaces looking inviting and uncluttered). But just as the mission of a car trunk is to help get as much as possible from one place to another, so the mission of our church building is to help us provide others with God’s love as much as possible. Which means we need people and stuff in it, using the facilities! And as stewards of the building’s mission, we all need to help it stay organized and effective. For then more love will be shared.

So see you July 24 (if not sooner)! And until then, may your lives be as full of grace and love as our church!

Grace and Peace,

Shane
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