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'The voice of reason in the middle of chaos'

June 24, 2009 12:36 am

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Lt. Richard Malmstrom spent five months ministering to Marines in Iraq in 2005. Now the chaplain at Naval Support Facility Dahlgren in King George County, Malmstrom says reconciling his Christian beliefs with the horrors of war made his faith even stronger.

WHAT DOES a chaplain say when a Marine wants revenge after 21 of his buddies have been killed in three days in Iraq?

What kind of blessing does a man of God offer when the remains of a U.S. serviceman and the suicide bomber who killed him are retrieved together? What prayer does he say when a sniper unit heads out on assignment?

How does the chaplain deal with the guilt of a Marine who kills an innocent civilian after following proper rules of engagement?

These aren't easy issues. But they were the kind faced by Lt. Richard Malmstrom in 2005 during his service as a Navy chaplain for the 3rd Battalion, 25th Marines.

He learned that these issues aren't abstractions--not when you have a Marine crying on your shoulder because he lost his best friend.

Now the chaplain at Naval Support Facility Dahlgren in King George County, Malmstrom reflected recently on how he and other chaplains are called to be "the voice of reason in the middle of chaos."

What's the theological approach for helping members of the armed forces reconcile their war-fighting role with the principles of their faith in God?

A war zone is not a good place for theological nuances, says Malmstrom, who feels sorry for those who have not hammered out their beliefs before heading into an environment where horrible deaths can occur at any instant. "I had to stuff my emotions in a pigeonhole and help everybody else," Malmstrom recalls of his seven months of service with the 1,000-man battalion, which suffered the highest percentage of casualties of any Marine reserve unit.

"I describe it as condensing 20 years of ministry into seven months" of service in Iraq, Malmstrom, 42, wrote after returning from his tour. "There was no time to second-guess the theology I learned and studied. There was no time to go back to the books. It was a matter of life and death."

WITNESSING TRUE EVIL

A member of the Lutheran Church Missouri-Synod, Malmstrom relied on Martin Luther's doctrine of the two kingdoms to help the servicemen see their efforts as service to God. God rules the earthly kingdom through secular government and the heavenly kingdom through the gospel of grace, according to this doctrine.

It helped Malmstrom when he was dealing with snipers who follow precisely planned rules of engagement for making "kills" that will help protect innocent people.

But often there was no time for reflecting on theological themes as Malmstrom dealt with war-fighters' worries and concerns.

Misplaced anger was a big issue--what you might call the "level the village" syndrome. The chaplain worked to keep the men "focused in the right direction," to assure them that they had the right to be angry "but that you need to be angry" in the right way at the right people.

Guilt was another issue that needed regular attention and Malmstrom tried to "nip it in the bud." Sometimes it's best to go right to confession and absolution, he says, so that, "I can say you are forgiven." The question of whether someone's actions were justified can be dealt with later. But the forgiveness can't wait.

Even concepts as basic as good and evil can take on extra dimensions in a war zone. "Most people don't understand how evil evil can be," says Malmstrom. "It doesn't register in the Western mind, when you're safely here at Dahlgren."

The chaplain recalls an incident in which an Iraqi civilian who talked to U.S. Marines had one arm and one leg cut off. Doctors in the United States worked with battalion personnel to have him fitted with a prosthetic leg.

Malmstrom says there's plenty of evidence that suicide bombers were coming into Iraq from other countries for the sole purpose of committing atrocities.

But the "loss of innocence" that comes from such awareness doesn't mean that the enemy should be dehumanized or considered unredeemable, says Malmstrom.

"I prayed for them," he says. "I prayed that their hearts would be turned, that they would not be our enemies."

APPLYING LESSONS OF WAR

But how do you live into your Christian beliefs when you must deal with the intermingled remains of a Marine and the bomber who killed him?

Malmstrom successfully resisted the first reaction of some in the battalion--to discard the bomber's remains in a disrespectful way. He then offered a blessing to the Marine.

Thinking back on it today, he wonders whether he should have offered some sort of prayer for the bomber as well.

But combat conditions don't offer much opportunity for reflection on such points. The psychological wear and tear are immense. Malmstrom, like so many others who have served in war zones, had to grapple with combat stress when he returned to the United States as a Navy reservist.

But an odd thing happened to the chaplain after Iraq. He decided to go into the active-duty Navy, where he had once served as an enlisted man--a nuclear operator on a sub. He acknowledges today that his decision "makes no sense when you say it out loud."

But with the encouragement of his wife, Leslie, Malmstrom was convinced that he needed to apply the lessons he learned in Iraq more directly to his ministry, and that he could do that only by going on active duty.

Those lessons include examples of how Marines' faith in God helped them to do heroic things. After witnessing some of those efforts, one Marine told Malmstrom that, "You're going to have to tell me about this Jesus guy."

The irony is inescapable, but perhaps appropriate. Service in Iraq, with all the death and horror, strengthened Richard Malmstrom's faith.

For two years after returning home, "it was pretty rough," recalls Malmstrom. "But on the other side, I was stronger."

Ed Jones: 540/374-5401
Email: edjones@freelancestar.com





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