Twenty-seven years ago, I was a newly minted Air Force chaplain when I asked my mentor, Chaplain Major Ron Kelling, to name the top three ways chaplains get in trouble.
Kelling, a former Vietnam War fighter pilot, had no trouble squeezing out a rapid-fire answer.
“It’s either money or women!”
He mentioned money because military chaplains must account for the offerings received at weekly worship services.
“I’ll have no problem with money,” I promised. For some reason, the temptation to steal money has always been a foreign idea to me.
I paused on the second part of my answer and Kelling fixed me in a target lock to show he was waiting.
“I’m happily married,” I reported, “but I can’t say I feel immune to sexual temptations.”
“None of us are immune to temptation,” Kelling noted. “You just have to say ‘No.’”
“Agreed.” I said. “But that’s easier said than done.”
The truth is that if you’re reading this column from a newspaper published on this planet, you’re likely susceptible to many temptations. The last I checked, people like former congressman Jesse Jackson, Jr., former cyclist Lance Armstrong, and even Catholic priests were born on the third planet from the sun.
All of these men began with worthy goals and causes. They all promoted some measure of truth: Armstrong forwarded cancer research, Jackson fought for the working man and the parish priests inspired faith. But they fell from grace in much the same way Icarus did when he flew too close to the sun and the wax melting from his wings caused him to fall into the sea.
When our heroes plummet earthward, I believe there are three principles to remember.
First, real truth remains true even when spoken by those who lie. For instance, Jesse Jackson’s misuse of campaign money doesn’t mean that the causes he supported weren’t worthy. Nor does Armstrong’s lying about his use of performance-enhancing drugs devalue grit, determination, and hard work. The moral bankruptcy of a few priests accused of improper conduct and abuses shouldn’t keep us from practicing a working faith.
Twenty-seven years ago, I was a newly minted Air Force chaplain when I asked my mentor, Chaplain Major Ron Kelling, to name the top three ways chaplains get in trouble.
Kelling, a former Vietnam War fighter pilot, had no trouble squeezing out a rapid-fire answer.
“It’s either money or women!”
He mentioned money because military chaplains must account for the offerings received at weekly worship services.
“I’ll have no problem with money,” I promised. For some reason, the temptation to steal money has always been a foreign idea to me.
I paused on the second part of my answer and Kelling fixed me in a target lock to show he was waiting.
“I’m happily married,” I reported, “but I can’t say I feel immune to sexual temptations.”
“None of us are immune to temptation,” Kelling noted. “You just have to say ‘No.’”
“Agreed.” I said. “But that’s easier said than done.”
The truth is that if you’re reading this column from a newspaper published on this planet, you’re likely susceptible to many temptations. The last I checked, people like former congressman Jesse Jackson, Jr., former cyclist Lance Armstrong, and even Catholic priests were born on the third planet from the sun.
All of these men began with worthy goals and causes. They all promoted some measure of truth: Armstrong forwarded cancer research, Jackson fought for the working man and the parish priests inspired faith. But they fell from grace in much the same way Icarus did when he flew too close to the sun and the wax melting from his wings caused him to fall into the sea.
When our heroes plummet earthward, I believe there are three principles to remember.
First, real truth remains true even when spoken by those who lie. For instance, Jesse Jackson’s misuse of campaign money doesn’t mean that the causes he supported weren’t worthy. Nor does Armstrong’s lying about his use of performance-enhancing drugs devalue grit, determination, and hard work. The moral bankruptcy of a few priests accused of improper conduct and abuses shouldn’t keep us from practicing a working faith.
