Army Chaplains' Blog

[Army chaplains, as with all other members of the Armed Services, are encouraged to participate in ‘Adventurous Training’. This can be any number of activities including sailing, rock climbing, hill walking, mountain biking, parachuting – any activity which will challenge individuals and teams to push themselves to learn new skills in a challenging environment. Below, Padre Duncan Weaver gives an account of one such activity.]

The Army isn’t ALL work’ the Army recruiting poster from many years back said. Certainly for me, this was the case as I embarked on exercise Roebuck Sweden Adventure with the Brigade Headquarters. Seven great days in Sweden canoeing, mountain biking and rafting in the Varmland region of that beautiful open country.

The highlight for most of the twenty-two participants was building the three rafts out of logs, which were our main focus for the adventure. We load them up with our tents, food and equipment and floated them gently down the wide meandering river. Taking turns to control them each day whilst others went off mountain biking or canoeing. They were cumbersome, unwieldy crafts who responded reluctantly to our attempts at steering as they carried their cargo gently downstream. Braving the mosquitoes we stopped each night to wild camp, sitting around open fires eating our food and then trying to sleep with the daylight still strong at midnight. We really learned what it meant to ‘go with the flow’ as there was no way we could travel upstream or go faster than the current dictated. At our final destination we simply unloaded all our kit, untied the ropes and let the logs carry on downstream, slightly sad that our adventure was over. Since returning to work the phrase “think of the river” has been heard in the headquarters on several occasions when things have got a bit stressed or difficult. A great experience for everyone in so many different ways and certainly one that has given me much food for thought and also some great sermon illustrations!

[Three years have passed since Padre Kevin Bell reflected on one of the many functions of chaplaincy – overseeing the life of garrison churches. In this instance the setting is the Royal Military Chapel (Guards’ Chapel), located in Birdcage Walk at the heart of London.]

Just two weeks after D Day flying bombs were landing on London. Down below people were praying in their homes and churches. The Guards’ Chapel was packed when it took a direct hit. The British chaplain leading the service had been posted in just three weeks before. He was sadly killed in the blast. In the congregation an Australian Army chaplain was also killed, along with a member of the Free French Forces. Over a hundred people were killed on the 18th June 1944. Sadly, more would die of their injuries in the days, weeks and years that followed. Some survived. One soldier of the Coldstream Guards was singing in the choir. He saw his comrades killed and helped the wounded during the aftermath. When I first met him, he summed up the event with humble and simple words. “My voice saved my life.”

Seventy years later this historic event was marked with a Commemorative Service at the Guards’ Chapel. The Bishop of London preached wonderfully and inspired all with his spirit and his words. The Band of the Coldstream Guards played as they had done in 1944 and laid a wreath for their comrades. The daughter of the British chaplain was present, as was the granddaughter of the Australian chaplain. The last known survivor was photographed with the present choir. This was a special reunion of sorts to mark that he was singing with the choir on that dreadful day.

During the service, the choir paused to mark when the bomb hit and we all kept a minute of silence. The choir then resumed. This was a moving experience, as was the Act of Commemoration with the usual haunting mix of bugle and silence.

After the service the Bishop of London entered the choir stalls by the altar where he was joined by the survivor and over sixty members of the bereaved families. Pastoral conversations led naturally to a time of quiet and prayer. The bishop blessed lapel badges for the Household Division, which in turn were distributed to the families. Emerging back into the sunshine a photograph was taken to remember the event.

Seventy years ago the candles did not go out  on the Altar. Candle sticks given by a King of England remained upright. This was taken as a sign by all who witnessed and survived. The rubble was cleared and worship continued. For many years a temporary shelter protected temporary chairs. I have met people who were married or baptised under that shelter. November 2013 marked the 50th anniversary of when the new building was dedicated for use. But the altar and choir stalls mark what survives of the old building and has been used ever since. Consecrated in 1838 by the then Archbishop of Canterbury for soldiers guarding the Sovereign as members of the Household Division, it remains their spiritual home with open doors to all life’s pilgrims.

For me this chapel is evidence that good can triumph over evil, love over hate, faith over doubt, and light over darkness. Even when locked in a fight to the death.

[The Guards’ Chapel website includes numerous images of the interior of this fine military chapel, it also includes details of Sunday worship.] 

[Army chaplains are imbued with a wandering inner being, constantly on the move to the next exercise, next deployment, next posting. Here the Rev’d Justin Bradbury reflects on an exercise in Latvia.]

The gospel lectionary reading for the day I arrived in Latvia was bemusing. Matthew 10:5-15 encouraged me to travel light (leaving behind gold, silver or coins.) In fact, I forgot to pack a bank card and thought 100 Euros to be enough money as I would be living in the field for the next seven days. I deliberately overlooked the encouragement from Jesus not to take an extra shirt and had packed in line with the kit list. I also ignored the warning not to take a walking stick; I go everywhere – as far as is practicable – with my trusty shepherd’s crook.

So, I arrived at the airport to be charged an excess on baggage, as the system failed to register two pieces of baggage, so my grip bag cost 55 euros. The airline refused to let me take my crook on board as hand luggage, cost: 60 euros. My budget was blown, but thankfully I was travelling with the Commanding Officer and he had packed his credit card!

Travelling light is an impossibility in the Army. It might seem that my crook is an unnecessary affectation, but God made it very clear before I joined the Army that I needed it. In a sea of green uniform … I was easily spotted. For me, the crook is a daily reminder that I am called to walk alongside soldiers. Wandering with my crook means that I am liable to be either actively avoided or stopped…

As we all know, being away with the lads brings many opportunities for the random conversation. The most extraordinary one came late at night as I was wandering back from having had a shower. A soldier stopped me to share his experience in having taken Holy Communion for the first time earlier that day. He received the invitation to come and eat. He said, falteringly, that he felt different, new and clean. He was trying to make sense of it all. What an opener for a gospel conversation, while just wearing a towel!

Wandering with Jesus always changes things. We are often told that the padre is good for morale. On a very basic level we do this by enabling a different kind and quality of conversation. I am cautious in being seen as some kind of mood-enhancing personality. My mood and energy levels ebb and flow; only Jesus is consistently, lovingly for us. As I prayed that I would be led by Him in my wandering, I encountered the painful and precious stories in the lives of soldiers from many nations. The fact that i forgot to take certain proscribed items, and wilfully carried others, did not stop the Great Shepherd from having His say.

[The Army has a long tradition of generating theological students and ordinands, often sponsored by the Royal Army Chaplains’ Department. Here, the Rev’d Sheila Moreton reflects on a journey that began in the British Army of the Rhine (BAOR) some thirty years ago.]

Sponsored by the Royal Army Chaplains’ Department thirty years ago in what was then BAOR, the Reverend Sheila Moreton went on to train as a Deaconess in the Church of England. On the eve of retirement she came back to Germany to provide some respite for  a serving chaplain looking after the Rear Operations Group in Fallingbostel, by taking a Sunday service.

Having started as a deaconess in Düsseldorf in 1984 and then ordained as a deacon – one of the first 10 to be ordained by the Archbishop of Canterbury – Sheila worked alongside the Royal Army Chaplains’ Department in what would prove to be a forerunner of the Community Chaplains of today.

This recent trip proved to be an opportunity for Sheila to return to the Army environment as an ordained vicar, leaving behind her three parishes of Wilden, Colmworth & Ravensden, in the Diocese of St Alban’s.

“I don’t remember us having the information and communications that you have here today”, she said as she visited a welfare centre, “it is wonderful to see how the Army has improved and moved on in supporting the families of soldiers in Germany.” During her time as ‘wife of’, as wives were then referred to, Sheila lived in countries as far afield as Bahrain, Hong Kong as well as across Germany and the UK.

“It is such an honour to be able to help out during this period of deployment but also to have this great opportunity to bring my career to an end in the same country where it began professionally. I have always helped in the church community but it was when we were stationed overseas that I felt that I could do more to support families through the church”, explained Sheila whose husband, Alan, retired as a lieutenant-colonel after a thirty-eight year career. “Having been a young wife of 21 years old having a baby far away from close family in Bahrain, I felt that I could relate to the younger wives and families by offering support and guidance for them through the military maze. It has been a journey for me where I have used my experience as a wife and mother in the military environment in the parishes that I have worked in. Coming back and seeing the changes in Germany is both fascinating and uplifting. There have been some very positive changes, although I suspect that those experiencing them now may not see it as such!”

Recalling her first services in the initial few months after her ordination as a deaconess she said: “I remember I did three christenings, as the families were Church of England, and the children were all called Christopher. Wearing the cross that I received when I became a deaconess is a reminder of where I started.”

Ordained women serve in the Royal Army Chaplains’ Department under the same terms as their male counterparts, providing spiritual support to soldiers on the front line across the world. Whilst this is no longer an option for Sheila, the opportunity to be back in a military community as a fully ordained priest of the Church of England felt as if the circle was complete.

“Of course retirement is daunting for anyone, but this chance for me to come to Germany to again be amongst the military community has been very special. Even when you leave the Army community you know that you have been part of a very special organisation and the sense of community remains with you wherever you go. This trip has given me some time for reflection on where my career has taken me and I am grateful to those in the Chaplains’ Department who gave me support throughout my training. I never thought thirty years ago that I would be back amongst the Forces families as a fully ordained member of the Church taking a service. What a journey it has been!”

[Padre Matt Coles reflects on the transition from Curate in Chesham to commissioned chaplain with 1st Bn Coldstream Guards]

Bathed in red light, soothed by the World Service and watching my dark arcs, was a heaven-sent slice of calm. I was not alone in the sangar, but the company helped me reflect on my tour thus far and the family I had grown to love, since being posted to 1st Battalion Coldstream Guards in April 2012.

When I left my curacy in Chesham to join the RAChD, I guessed the path would not be straight and the learning curve steep. However, I stepped off knowing I was following God’s call to Army Chaplaincy…

After a fleeting but foundational training period at Amport House, I joined the Battalion in Windsor for three months. The scrapes and japes of the soldiers constantly amazed me and the routine of this new world was confusing, but for the gruff growl of the Adjutant. At this time I saw a breadth of chaplaincy opportunities, from exercising in Brecon with the Guardsmen, to ministering in the Guards Chapel to the great, the good and the General. Also, my evangelical instincts were tingling with the warm welcome from the Mess, but left shuddering from the cold shoulder from the secular institution.

Three months later I started Professionally Qualified Officers’ Course 122 at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst. Training there gave me some competence and a greater confidence to speak, think and walk like a soldier. With a better brace and sharper salute, I began to be more robust to the taunts of “imaginary friends”, “fictional characters” and being ‘an officer without portfolio’ and got on with loving my flock.

I found the best way to do this was by becoming one of the blokes and building friendships, whilst always being available, offering a different perspective and delivering weddings, baptisms, funerals and seasonal services to the highest standards possible. I also had the privilege of representing the Battalion at rugby and the Guards at cricket, and the pleasure of laying up the Colours in Eton and marching to the Cenotaph on Black Sunday.

When we deployed to Afghanistan … and I became chaplain to the Kabul Support Unit, I had my fair share of anxieties and expectations. I left behind my young family, but was joined by an army of prayer warriors and soon settled into a routine. This included ministering to four locations every week plus memorials, pageants, festivals and learning to live cheek by jowl with my extended family, far from home …

This tour has been one of searing complexity and yet stark simplicity. Conversations have covered the foreseeable topics of life and death, and the predictable areas of depression and frustration, as well as the surprising preference for financial gain at the cost of family time, but I suspect those are linked. To be honest, despite the non-kinetic nature of this tour, it has been hard to make time for my personal devotionals and find people with an appetite for enquirers’ courses and discipleship classes. On reflection, again, those are probably linked. Previously in Windsor, I tried at all costs to make a distinction between chaplaincy and welfare, but here the edges have become blurred between customised Battalion rock and faithful preaching from the Book and everything in the middle. And that holistic care for the flock feels all right.

People have said on tour, “the veil is thin” and God can be felt close at hand, but that’s not been my experience. However, I have expanded my appreciation for the church building, specifically asking how we interact in the ‘sacred space’ and what is conducive for worship and reflection. That might mean installing a pulpit or adorning the walls with photocopied stained glass and scriptural slogans. It could look like singing traditional hymns and using the full Anglican liturgy and vestments. It has happened sitting in the round or in a Foxhound or crouched in a foxhole.

[Edited excerpt from an article first printed in the Royal Army Chaplains’ Department Journal]

 

 

Chaplains require an adventurous character if they are to make the most of the opportunities for ministry presented to them in their service of the military community. Below, Padre Stewart MacKay reflects theologically on a visit to the Falkland Islands:

I have been working with 2 PARA since January 2012. During that time the whole battalion has rarely been together in one place as exercises, operations (Op OLYMPIC and Op FIRIC) and leave have happened mainly at company level and many of our troops attend courses in between these. Whilst there is plenty of pastoral work to be done in camp exercises provide the best quality time to spend with troops. This can be illustrated through a trip to the Falkland Islands, some 7,900 miles from the UK, to visit C (Bruneval) Coy, who were undertaking a two month exercise package as the Falkland Islands Roulement Infantry Company (FIRIC).

The exercise package included two cycles through the ranges, patrols and Quick Reaction Force, culminating in a final exercise. There were also battlefield tours and platoon socials between phases. This context delivers many opportunities for pastoral ministry. Sharing some of the experiences of the troops embodies what I believe to be the necessity of incarnational chaplaincy approach if it s to bear fruit of any kind. One such activity was a sixteen mile TAB from Onion Ranges back to Mount Pleasant Camp. I suggested to one of the soldiers that it would be great if I had a cross to carry and he quickly volunteered to make me one! And cometh the hour I strapped it to my Bergen after having it signed by the troops and off we went. Weather is massively changeable though fairly consistently very windy. About five minutes is enough to produce four seasons. We certainly experienced those seasons on this TAB. Not so much rain, but snow and horizontal hail stones proved something of a challenge to exposed faces. With heads bowed and the odd groan we journeyed on, thinking to ourselves how tough it must have been for the soldiers to survive, let alone fight, in the 1982 South Atlantic winter.

As I tabbed with the blokes I displayed not only the incarnational aspect of the gospel but also the sacrificial as I carried my cross. Sacrificing personal comfort and sharing the burdens of the troops is something chaplains have done for a very long time, often in extremely dangerous situations, and at times to the cost of their own lives. And as Christ ministers to us incarnationally and sacrificially so we, in turn, minister Christ to those whom we serve.

Army chaplains spend, on average, between two and three years with a particular unit before moving to a new location to begin the process again. The following reflection is written by the Revd Hector MacKenzie who experienced this transition for the first time last year.

‘I moved recently from my first unit, The Highlanders, 4th Battalion, The Royal Regiment of Scotland (my home battalion) to the 3rd Battalion, The Parachute Regiment. This was my first experience of leaving one unit to commence chaplaincy in a new and different environment. I am sure that almost always leaving a unit comes as a wrench, when you have worked closely alongside individuals, deployed on a tour with them and had the privilege of ministering to them in the highs and lows of life. That is certainly the case for me, and I have to be honest and say that I was apprehensive about the move and anxious at stepping out of my comfort zone. But the Paras have been so welcoming and as I slowly get to know individuals I feel more at ease.

Relocation, with all the physical and emotional stresses and readjustments, has given me a valuable insight into how change affects me; it has informed my ministry and I offer this reflection not as the finished article but as a work in progress.

Am I someone who handles change well? I’m not too sure. On the one hand, being a Highlander full of Celtic melancholy I have a tendency to look with nostalgia and romance at the past and lament the here and now; on the other hand, I have heard God’s call to ministry and stepped out in faith, albeit reluctantly and with a certain degree of apprehension. I am sure that we would all admit a sense of fear of the unknown. I know that I have likened myself to Moses many times, wishing and asking God to provide an Aaron to go instead of me!

There have been a number of passages from scripture that have spoken into my experience when I was preparing to commence my training as a chaplain. The resonating theme was God promising to be with his people and helping them to overcome. These words from Isaiah 43:1-3 encouraged me on tour time and again:

But now, O Jacob, listen to the Lord who created you. O Israel, the one who formed you says, “Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour. (Holy Bible, New Living Translation, 2007, Tyndale House)

The thought of moving, whether that be to a new job, ministry opportunity, school or leaving the Army after a long period of service can be very daunting, in fact for some people it is a terrifying experience. That is understandable when you are somewhere that you know, where routine is familiar, where you have built strong relationships with individuals and personalities are well known: you feel comfortable and at ease. Moving into a new area can be tough, you may be reluctant and find it a struggle to engage. It can be like going to a big hill and when you begin your climb all is fine; the visibility is good, all is calm and the path is sure underfoot. But the further and higher you go, the visibility deteriorates, the terrain becomes unfamiliar, hostile even and you become less and less confident. What do you do? You remember the stream that flows close to the path. You listen out and sure enough you hear the faint trickle of running water. Knowing that it runs downhill it will be your guide home.

We can liken Jesus to the stream, even though the way may seem unclear, if we listen we will hear his voice; he is a safe and sure guide, and he promises to equip us for whatever (new) challenge he calls us to. I am still learning to come to terms with the fact that change is inevitable, and I will continue to have mixed emotions/reactions towards it, but the words of the old hymn ring true, ‘change and decay in all around I see, oh thou who changest not, abide with me.’ (H F Lyte, 1793-1847)

We may worry about our role as chaplains in a changing, shrinking, contingency-focussed Army, but we must remember that God will still give us opportunities to minister and will equip us for that ministry and strengthen us to face the change. It may be that we have to step out first of all, feeling the fear but doing it anyway. Above all let us remember the nature of the God whom we serve, who as James says, ‘never changes or casts a shifting shadow.’ (James 1:17, ibid) Everything else may change, but our God never will and he is entirely trustworthy.