Daily Prayer, 9 March

When we deployed with the USS Laboon in company, I had no idea who Laboon was. Looking up his story I was amazed to find that he, like me, began his Navy service in submarines, but finished it as a chaplain. Take some time to read the remarkable stories of the chaplains who have won Congressional Medals of Honor. The exploits of these unarmed men under fire is quite moving. There are others, like today’s hero, who won other medals for valor, yet even these are only the ones who have been recognized. It is puzzling to some of our nation’s warriors, particularly amongst the Marines when I served with them, that men and women volunteer to go with them into harm’s way without arming themselves. In fact, one time in particular, amongst the many, a Marine Staff Sergeant asked me what I’d do if I ever found myself the last man physically able to resist the enemy in combat. The only real answer I could give was “I don’t know,” but what I did know I told him: “If I were ever to kill a man, I couldn’t be a priest anymore.” Theologically this is because only life should come from the hand of a priest, but to them I used it to illustrate the point that what they train to do (they were on the firing range at the time), to use lethal force, is soul damaging. It is a big deal. That they volunteer to do it is a credit to them, but they should be under no delusions as to the potential consequences of their profession. Ignoring the soul damage of combat is what leads to PTSD and the moral harm our sons and daughters suffer when we pretend that it doesn’t happen. So join me in praying for them, and with them, today and every day.

John was a good boy. Born in Mount Lebanon, PA, just outside of Pittsburgh, his parents raised him to be such a good Catholic boy, that while he was at college he became president of the Catholic ministry group on his campus. He graduated from college in 1943, and like any good American boy who was able, he joined the war effort. Commissioned as a naval officer, John volunteered for submarines, and upon completion of his training was assigned to the USS Peto. While part of her crew he filled a number of billets, up to and including Executive Officer.

During Peto’s 10^th war patrol, she was tasked to rescue downed aircrews off the coast of the Japanese home island of Honshu. Peto approached as close as she could to a pilot in shallow, mined waters, but could not get close enough to pick him up. When the submarine could go no farther, John leaped from her deck, swam to the wounded pilot, and pulled him safely back to the Peto. His heroic actions earned the young officer the Silver Star.

After the war, John retired his commission and went back to his Catholic roots, took a theological degree, and was ordained a Jesuit priest. A man of action, he wasn’t quite satisfied with parish life, so he applied for and received a commission into the U.S. Navy Chaplains Corps, where he served for 22 years. His chaplain corps service took him back to war in Viet Nam, where he earned a Legion of Merit with combat “V” for service with the 3^rd Marine Division.

There have been six U.S. warships named for chaplains, three frigates, two destroyer escorts, and one guided missile destroyer (DDG), and it was the DDG named for Fr. John Laboon that accompanied us through the Suez Canal today.

As an ex-submariner turned chaplain myself, I appreciate that there is a ship named for Fr. Laboon, but also recognize a rare thing that is peculiar to his bravery and that of other chaplains who have won medals for valor—9 of whom won Congressional Medals of Honor. If you’ve seen the movie Hacksaw Ridge, then you know that it is possible to earn a Medal of Honor without firing a single shot. Courage doesn’t only mean attacking against overwhelming odds, sometimes courage is simply doing the right thing even when your self-preservation instinct tells you to do nothing—or the wrong thing. But if you determine to do the right thing in spite of whatever it might cost you, then people will see your courage, and will honor it. Maybe you won’t have a ship named for you—but you never know.

LET US PRAY

Heavenly Father, we thank You for the heroes who inspire us and make us want to try and be better, more courageous in our choices and actions every day. May we all have the courage to do what is right, even when under the fire of judgement and criticism, some of which may even come from within our own thoughts. Help us to do the right thing every time, for You are holy always, now and forever and to the ages of ages.

AMEN