There are two dreaded "duties" among Chaplains here at Fort Hood. One of them, the Duty Phone is the 24 hour crisis hotline phone, which each battalion chaplain has to man once or twice a month. The other is Funeral Duty, which obliges the chaplain with the duty, to perform any funerals for Veterans within approximately a 200 mile radius for the day. THE Chaplain (a.k.a. Ch. Cochell, my husband) had funeral duty this past Friday. He knew about the funeral beforehand and had a nice little sermon planned for the cemetery ceremony. We planned to leave the house around 10 am to get to the cemetery the required 30 minutes early.
9:30 the phone rings. "Chaplain, the family is getting a little worried that you are not here." What? Well, apparently, there were two services for this particular veteran. One at the funeral home and one at the cemetery right after. We rushed over to the funeral home (it was a frantic, stressful drive to get there in time) and walked in as the music began, and The Chaplain was handed a program which included a small sermon by him.
See, the five minute sermon often takes longer to prepare than the 30 minute sermon. Each word is more meaningful, since you only get to say a few. I knew he had a sermon prepared for the cemetery, and I wondered with a smirk if he was going to use that one first and brew up something on the ride over to the cemetery, or whether he had something in reserve to use for such an occasion. It somewhat amused me to see what would happen. I am not a cruel person, because I knew he would be able to handle the situation and everything would be fine. He, on the other hand, being a pessimist was worried that it would be the greatest catastrophe ever and there would be reports of his deficiencies all the way up to the Chief of Chaplains.
As the service progressed, it came time for his "homily". He began to speak and it was not the prepared sermon. It was a beautiful heart felt message of truth and hope. It was a message honoring the 28 year veteran of the military. The largely African-American audience hung on every word and every sentence was followed by loud "Amens". I couldn't help but shed a tear. It was so beautiful. And afterwards I had to ask him how it all happened and he said it was all the "Holy Spirit". Which is against his training, which trained him to be prepared and never rely on chance or whim. But this was out of his control.
So, yes, The Chaplain astounded me today with his heart and speaking ability, and his ability to "listen to the Spirit". I guess miracles still happen today.
Later that day he wrote this on my Facebook wall...
(if you know my husband, this is totally tongue and cheek)
"Erasmus, in his most excellent book The Praise of Folly, writes in regards to Stultitia Loquitur: And thus what great orators elswhere can hardly bring about in a long, carefully planned speech, I have done in a moment, with nothing but my looks. If I can take it out of context, my thoughts exactly.
He goes on to say about orators,'They as you know so well, when they bring out a speech they have been working on for thirty whole years, and sometimes not their own at all, will swear it was written in three days, for pastime, or even that they merely dictated it. For my part, it has always been most satisfactory to speak "whatever pops into my head." ' This he defines as moria - or folly. Or as Gimli would say about Moria, 'They call it a mine, a mine!' And I would say to Gimli, this looks more like a tomb than a mine." -Chaplain James Cochell, U.S.Army
See, the five minute sermon often takes longer to prepare than the 30 minute sermon. Each word is more meaningful, since you only get to say a few. I knew he had a sermon prepared for the cemetery, and I wondered with a smirk if he was going to use that one first and brew up something on the ride over to the cemetery, or whether he had something in reserve to use for such an occasion. It somewhat amused me to see what would happen. I am not a cruel person, because I knew he would be able to handle the situation and everything would be fine. He, on the other hand, being a pessimist was worried that it would be the greatest catastrophe ever and there would be reports of his deficiencies all the way up to the Chief of Chaplains.
As the service progressed, it came time for his "homily". He began to speak and it was not the prepared sermon. It was a beautiful heart felt message of truth and hope. It was a message honoring the 28 year veteran of the military. The largely African-American audience hung on every word and every sentence was followed by loud "Amens". I couldn't help but shed a tear. It was so beautiful. And afterwards I had to ask him how it all happened and he said it was all the "Holy Spirit". Which is against his training, which trained him to be prepared and never rely on chance or whim. But this was out of his control.
So, yes, The Chaplain astounded me today with his heart and speaking ability, and his ability to "listen to the Spirit". I guess miracles still happen today.
Later that day he wrote this on my Facebook wall...
(if you know my husband, this is totally tongue and cheek)
"Erasmus, in his most excellent book The Praise of Folly, writes in regards to Stultitia Loquitur: And thus what great orators elswhere can hardly bring about in a long, carefully planned speech, I have done in a moment, with nothing but my looks. If I can take it out of context, my thoughts exactly.
He goes on to say about orators,'They as you know so well, when they bring out a speech they have been working on for thirty whole years, and sometimes not their own at all, will swear it was written in three days, for pastime, or even that they merely dictated it. For my part, it has always been most satisfactory to speak "whatever pops into my head." ' This he defines as moria - or folly. Or as Gimli would say about Moria, 'They call it a mine, a mine!' And I would say to Gimli, this looks more like a tomb than a mine." -Chaplain James Cochell, U.S.Army
