VIEW FROM THE PEW
Screaming sirens go past the window of the restaurant, and it hits a time travel switch in my brain. It’s time to say a prayer for the safety and well being of the people who are in distress and the policemen, firemen, paramedics dashing to help them. That’s what Sister said in the classroom decades ago, kind of a brilliant if simplistic method of stimulating us into a prayer life.
So that’s what I do, in just a flicker of a closed eyelid, then it’s back to the food and chat.
Lately, a siren is likely food for thought, too. Whew, am I thankful I’m not the man or woman who has to take charge of that situation, be it traffic accident, fight, fire, people hurt or danger waiting. And amen to that thought when, later in the day, the news seems to be a litany of distressful events in our community and world.
Aren’t we fortunate to live in a country, a culture, a society with a foundation of civic order and laws. You don’t have to go any deeper than superficial news reports to get that, for millions of people on the planet, there’s no infrastructure of order and rights and possibility of relief. There is no one to call for help. A person in a uniform may be fearful, not to be sought out but to be avoided.
We’ve just celebrated our fellow citizens who wore military uniforms and took on distant dangers on our behalf. The parades and ceremonies were inspiring. But it was some quiet, personal observances in my family that brought tears to my eyes; still do. My nephew, veteran of three tours in Afghanistan, was surprised on Veterans Day with texts of thanks from two generations of cousins. Our World War II friend got a phone call from my sister cheering “my favorite Marine.” I wish I’d thought to do that, too.
Earlier this fall, we saw ceremonies honoring other uniformed citizens who answer the siren’s call. In America’s best display of communal chutzpah, we have turned the tearful remembrance of the 9/11 terrorism into applause for first responders everywhere, the firefighters, emergency medical crews and police who took on the responsibilities none of us would want.
For the rest of the year, not much applause. Oh, that’s not exactly true for a fireman or a paramedic. No question, they’re the good guys. We see how we benefit from their work immediately. What’s not to love?
But for a police officer
But for a police officer, we’re likely to hold back and judge. If uncle thinks he got an unjust traffic ticket, we carry that forward forever to judge any other officer. If we see a cop cluster at a fast-food shop to write reports, it’s an automatic “why aren’t they on the road catching crooks?” Same thing, when there’s a flock of blue at an accident or crime scene. Worse is when they don’t put all legal procedure aside and clap the handcuffs on perceived bad guys immediately.
Much worse comes the judgment when wrongdoing by a bad actor in uniform is disclosed. Everyone in the same uniform feels the fallout when criminal or brutal or stupid behavior by a few bad cops comes to light — so often from vigilante video rushed into circulation.
If you think that ugly scene of brutality we face on the nightly news doesn’t make most decent officers cringe, you are mistaken. If you think the officer who had to hurt somebody to control a threatening situation goes home proud and happy, think again. If there’s any policeman who killed another person in the line of duty who moves past that without trauma and sleepless nights — well, that’s a fictional character in a book or movie.
Did I fail to provide a spoiler alert: I’ve known a lot of law enforcement people, as relatives, friends, neighbors. As volunteers in community betterment projects. As coaches and mentors of kids. As cogs caught in their own complex family machinations.
I believe they all need prayers, not to mention support and applause, even when the sirens aren’t screaming.
The chaplain’s call
Last week, I spent some time with a cadre of folks who work to fill that need as a profession. The Honolulu Police Department’s chaplain corps exchanged experiences at their monthly meeting. They visit hospitalized sick or injured officers — and a whole lot of their family members — and they do one-on-one counseling when they ride along with on-duty patrol officers or in off-duty meetings. They attend funerals and weddings in the police families, and are called on to conduct many of those events. They have seemingly endless gigs to pray at recruit graduations, retirements, promotions, awards, etcetera ceremonies.
And the chaplains are often called to answer the siren’s call or its aftermath.
“Our duty is to be there for officers,” said Andrew Kikuta, pastor of Hawaii Kai Community Church for 35 years and a police chaplain for 33 years. “If an officer is traumatized by a scene or incident, we support them. If we can help them do their jobs by dealing with people at the scene, be a liaison between people and the department, we do that.” An officer charged with the duty of notifying a family of a death may sometimes be accompanied by a chaplain.
Chaplains are sworn in as reserve officers and commit to spend 20 hours a month, but many more hours than that are routinely logged.
A chaplain commits to serve a wider congregation that just people in his own denomination, said Ronaldo Pascua, a former police detective who was an Assembly of God pastor in Waianae while on the police force. “We need to be aware we work in a pluralistic environment,” Pascua said. While some Christian pastors insist they “always pray in Jesus’ name,” a chaplain may be more sensitive to the diversity of the police congregation which includes 2,000 officers and 300 civilians, some of whom aren’t Christian or may not have a religious faith.
“Your service has to be more than from one religion, you don’t let your own doctrine get in the way,” said Roby Correa, a retired United Methodist Church minister and one of two woman chaplains here.
“We can’t turn anyone away, it’s not about my denomination, it’s about their need to talk to someone,” said Wynn Warner, another policeman-turned-chaplain. Warner, also with the Assembly of God, said his 26 years as an officer and civilian police dispatcher “set me up to understand things that happen. I can shed some light, try to be some help.”
Proselytizing is forbidden, a standard set not only by the department but by the International Conference of Police Chaplains. Besides setting its own rigorous standards for applicants, HPD pays for each chaplain to qualify for professional credentials by attending the chaplain organization’s 12-class training program, usually given on the mainland.
Buddhist Bishop Shuji Komagata of the Soto Mission is the only non-Christian of the corps that includes Kailua Missionary Baptist Church pastor Keoki Awai and retired Methodist minister Alex Vergara, both longtime chaplains. Retired HPD assistant chief Robert Prasser, of the North Shore Christian Fellowship, and Annie Abbott-Foerster, a New Hope pastor, are close to completing training, which will bring the chaplain force to nine.
It’s the first time in history that they have come close to filling the full complement of 10 chaplain positions, said Officer Don Faumuina, one of three officers coordinating the HPD peer counseling office which administers the chaplaincy.
Tragedy and trauma
The office is deliberately in a building separate from police headquarters. “When officers meet with chaplains or peer support, everything is confidential,” Faumuina said. “The rare exception would be if (what was confided) was criminal in nature, or if an officer is saying he wants to hurt himself. The chaplains are trained to work with that situation.
“It is typically voluntary for an officer to see a chaplain. The department deploys a chaplain to some situations,” Faumuina said. An example was the tragic outcome of a police officer’s attempt to help an elderly couple whose car stalled on the freeway. The officer died when his stopped car burned after being struck by another motorist. “A chaplain was requested by supervisors at the scene because of the trauma to other officers, friends of the dead officer.”
Kikuta cited another incident when police officers at a scene needed support and consoling. Chaplains took the initiative of going to the scene of a Palolo house fire which killed five people, some of them known to officers sent to deal with the scene.
“It’s not a policy for chaplains to minister to the public, as a matter of liability for the department,” Faumuina said. “When it occurs, the chaplain makes clear that ‘I am speaking as a minister, not a chaplain.’ They can change hats.”
There have been Catholic chaplains in the recent past, both deacons. And the peer support office has sought applicants from other faiths.
Each police recruit class has a chaplain assigned. “We have regular visits with them, encourage them,” said Kikuta, and the chaplain will teach a unit on “Death and Serious Injury.”
Each of the eight patrol districts and departments such as detectives, vice and even chiefs’ office has a designated chaplain. Kikuta told about his routine of keeping in touch by dropping by when “my guys in the 7th” gather at a fast-food place at the start of their shift.
Kikuta was a chaplain in November 1999, responding to the scene of the worst mass murder in Hawaii history. Seven people died in the Xerox company shootings at the hands of an enraged co-worker. It was an incident that challenged chaplains for weeks afterward with many hours of listening and consoling and praying. But in our conversations, I found the chaplains are not a group to gather and exchange horror stories.
They are a team of good listeners, sincere friends with a penchant for praying. It’s just what our police officers need. Don’t we all.
