In the first chapter of the Book of Genesis, which attendees at the soon-to-be celebrated Easter Vigil will hear proclaimed, a number of well-known verses begin with the words “Then God said.” These verses tell the story of creation and how God spoke into existence: light, the sky, water, vegetation, and an abundance of living creatures.

From that point, prophets, preachers, publishers, and teachers have assisted God for centuries in getting His word out and making it known in every corner of the globe.

Across America during the 1980s, interstate drivers were presented with messages on billboards that are supposedly from God. They included: “Take me along for the ride” and “You think it’s hot here?”

The Armed Forces Television Network which now broadcasts eight channels into our camp also runs various God messages like: “Let’s get together at my place before the game Sunday” and “I’m here for you.” With most of the living trailers in our camp recently wired to receive that cable network, military personnel here are regularly guided toward thoughts about God… Nice!

Realizing the need for more people to communicate with God and recognizing my responsibility to encourage it, I began to post different non-denominational messages from God twice a week on a display sign located at the outside entrance to the camp chapel. Some of the real popular messages from God have been: “Let’s do some spiritual exercises in my Spiritual Fitness Center,” “Come inside and let’s hang out in my chat room,” “I’m hosting an open house for the holy holidays,” and “You’re Welcome!” which appeared on Thanksgiving Day.

Father Krische and one of his conversational signs in Iraq.

They have become quite a conversation item as people passing by notice them and walk away smiling or reflecting on what God said. I believe God has more to say so we should watch for all of the signs wherever they may appear.

The many military units that work in and out of my camp are on staggered rotation schedules for their one-year tours in Iraq, so we welcome a new group and say goodbye to another almost every month. This means that among other things, for the chapel, the congregations, musicians and liturgical assistants also come and go presenting additional pastoral challenges.

To the arriving troops, I give a briefing about the various religious services offered and the chaplains available to them around the clock. I also encourage them to devote some time toward growing spiritually during this desert experience.

After almost 12 months as troops prepare to go home, they also receive a brief from a chaplain to prepare them for the challenges they might encounter becoming reacquainted with family and civilian life. Many soldiers experience sadness when their Camp Bucca friends do leave Iraq but there is also some joy knowing that having served their time, they will soon be spared of this environment and be united with their families. And God said “Blessed are the peacemakers.”

The month of January had us saying goodbye to an Army chaplain and an Air Force chaplain as well as welcoming their replacements. The Air Force chaplain is of the Lutheran faith and even though he took over offering the 2 a.m. General Protestant service that his predecessor had done, I convinced him to gather the Lutheran troops of our camp together for a service of their own each Sunday night.

The new Army chaplain, a Southern Baptist, likewise took over a Sunday service and before long had a 250-gallon water tank dropped next to the chapel to enable him to baptize folks regularly. And he does, like three separate times on a recent Sunday.

The chapel program was again expanded when some Native American soldiers asked to gather for a prayer circle each week. I was happy to welcome them but had ‘reservations’ about their smoke ritual presenting a fire safety hazard in our plywood chapel. Then considering that I was the one often lighting candles on the altar and using incense at Mass, I had no basis on which to deny their request.

The sound of the beating drum and the smell of the burning whatever (It is better that I don’t know.) are probably a first for Iraq. Together with the chapel’s Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. memorial presentation, we are reminded of the diversity of our military forces. And God said: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
Recognizing that 12 months in a war zone can really be rough on the troops, the Army has two programs to give them a break. The first is a four-day pass for the soldier to be flown to the nearby country of Qatar where there is a military camp in a very safe zone that is a bit like a resort. There is a pool, food court, video arcade and excursions for shopping downtown, trekking in the desert or taking a boat trip out on the Persian Gulf.

The other program for lengthier rest and recuperation allows soldiers to go on leave for 15 days plus the necessary travel time to a destination of their choice provided it is not another war zone. Over 90% of the soldiers choose to go home with the remainder heading to some vacation spot.

Recognizing the potential for problems when a soldier is traveling or goes home to a place that has changed and operated without him for many months, there is a mandatory briefing that I and the other chaplains give them in order to assist them in avoiding conflicts and dealing with possible frustrations. After being here in Iraq for over six months, I went on leave over to Australia and New Zealand to do some touring, for even God rested on the seventh day.

As the Catholic religious authority and sacrament provider in our section of Iraq, I was not going to give the faithful a pass when it came to observing the 40-day penitential season of Lent. With ashes sent from the States, I offered four services on Ash Wednesday beginning at 7 a.m. The crosses of ash I traced on the foreheads of the soldiers were a topic of conversation in the camp but the marks of repentance didn’t stay visible as long as I would have liked due to the wearing of protective helmets and the blowing of sand. Just another one of those challenges of ministering in a desert war zone, I guess.

To enhance their Lenten observance, the faithful were also reminded about the practices of fasting, abstaining from meat and giving up something as well as attending the Stations of the Cross prayer service each Friday of the holy season. The beginning of Lent also coincided with my offering an additional Mass each Sunday for troops in a camp 350 miles north of where I am stationed.

Due to the shortage of priests here, their camp was only visited by a priest once every three or four weeks and often on short notice. Since my camp is part of the same brigade as theirs, they asked if I would celebrate Mass for them through the video teleconference system. I was startled at first with the idea, then realized it was basically offering Mass in front of a camera so they could watch it on their television. It has worked well for them and for a number of senior leaders in my camp, not because it is shorter or a collection is not taken, but because the leaders have an important meeting most Sundays during the main Mass time. I am getting quite used to celebrating Mass on camera but don’t look for me on your television or computer screen quite yet. And God said: “Lights, camera, action.” (No he didn’t. I’m only kidding.)

For most of us here who never leave the camp, don’t guard its perimeter or go out on patrol looking for the bad guys, there are many days where we follow our regular routines and it doesn’t seem like we are in a war zone or even Iraq.

Unfortunately though, after six months of relative quiet, we were then jolted back to the reality of where we were and the risks of military life by three separate deaths of military personnel. The first died of a self-inflicted wound. The second, about three weeks later, was tragically killed when his buddy’s weapon accidentally went off. The third young soldier did not survive a roadside bomb that struck his vehicle while he patrolled to keep the road safe for the rest of us to travel.

Each death hit the community in a hard but different way and even though we still had a mission to do 24 hours a day, we gathered for a memorial to pray them home to God and to comfort those grieving. During each tragedy, I and the other chaplains did what we could abiding by a chaplaincy motto which calls for us to: Nurture the living. Comfort the dying. Honor the dead. If you would be so kind as to add a prayer for them and their families to ours, it would be appreciated, remembering that God also said “Blessed are those who mourn.”

Father Jim Krische, former pastor of St. Peter Claver parish, Bedford-Stuyvesant, is on leave from diocesan duties to serve as chaplain to the 310th Military Police Battalion in Iraq.