“Russ, why did you include fundraising in your last post?”

I heard it loud and clear, and my answer is what it’s always been. I believe the work I’ve been doing for veterans is my calling from God, and the two organizations I lead are worthy of support.

But there’s a more personal reason why I’ve given the last twenty three years of my life to Point Man Ministries and Disabled Veterans of America. It’s part of my story that some of you have never heard.

After Vietnam, I was privileged to serve as pastor to several faithful churches in Ohio. I’ll take hundreds of good memories of those times to Heaven with me. But my ministry started unraveling as the the war began to distract me and limit my effectiveness. I thought the leadership of my denomination would offer compassion, but that’s not what happened. I was forced out of pastoral ministry, and as a result I lost most of what I depended on for stability and well-being.

As I went into exile, I found myself in Seattle. How I arrived there can be the topic of another entry. I was wandering through the drizzle of the Pacific Northwest when I was introduced to two programs for veterans who were struggling with Post-Traumatic Stress and accompanying disabilities and maladies. I was welcomed with open arms and not treated as the pariah others had made me think I was. I owe my life to Point Man and the DAV, and I resolved at that time that I would give the rest of my life to assist other military men and women on their long journey home.

So in this, the darkest time of the year, I ask all of you to remember those who gave so much for us. We breath the sweet air of freedom because of the sacrifice of so many of our finest.

Here’s the contact information for a tax-deductible gift:

Point Man Ministries of Central Ohio

3915 Dublin Road

Columbus, Ohio 43221

(Check payable to” Point Man”)

DAV Capital City Chapter #3

PO Box 248255

Columbus, Ohio 43224

Check payable to “DAV Chapter #3.”

Thanks to all. I wish you a New Year filled with many blessings.

As 2023 comes to a close, I reminisce. For some reason I do this every year. Like closing a chapter. Or placing a comma in my life story. It could be an attempt at closure, although that concept is elusive. Ask anyone who is grieving the loss of a loved one and is staring at an empty chair at the holiday table.

This year has been one of transition. Martha and I moved into a new home. They call it “downsizing,” and my wife has done it more easily than I have. It’s harder for me to “let go” of the past and all that has accompanied it. We chose to stay in our neighborhood in Columbus. It’s conveniently located and it’s familiar. I have the same walking route, past the same dogs and porch lights. I like the familiarity, but some of you would not be comfortable here.

It’s what some would call “liberal.” There’s a rich variety of flags, banners, and lawn signs as one travels from street to street. Many American flags, gay pride flags, and even a couple of flags of the United States Marine Corps! Two of the messages displayed are “Hate has no home here” and “We support law enforcement.” The image of Dr. Martin Luther King is seen in front of several houses. There’s a blending of religions and races, ethnic groups and cultures. 

The move within this neighborhood of Clintonville reminded me of my limitations. For the first time in my life, I “felt my age.” I tripped and fell in July and damaged my left shoulder, but with competent care from the VA I’m well on the road to recovery. Also for the first time, I realized my vulnerability and mortality. My faith sustains me when thoughts turn to my exit from this life, but that awareness also compels me in new ways to make every day count for something good, lasting, and loving.

As my inner eyes gaze backward, I thank my Creator and Savior for a long life. I am by the grace of God a survivor. I look in the mirror and see a man with dark circles under his eyes but a smile on his face. I’ve made it through the Vietnam War and its aftermath. I’m no stranger to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I’ve battled addictions that at one time overwhelmed me and caused me to lose everything I thought I needed to keep living. I’ve journeyed through paralysis, divorce, and cancer. And I’m still breathing the clean air of a good and abundant life.

Yes, I’m a survivor. But the word “thrive” is one that increasingly describes who Russ Clark is. There are many reasons of course. I’m married to a wonderful woman who knows my flaws and my failures and still loves me unconditionally. I am blessed with children and grandchildren who enrich my life in ways I can’t express in everyday language. I have close friends who share breakfasts and lunches with me in both Ohio and Florida. Even a Happy Hour once in a while!

These past twelve months have been a challenge, but we are stronger for what we endured. In the midst of all the hard physical, mental, and emotional strains, we found time to take trips to family gatherings in Pennsylvania and Kentucky. These are places we call “home,” the land our ancestors walked. Where they lived, worked, raised their offspring, and then died leaving wonderful legacies.

A part of God’s world that we cherish is a monastery near Bardstown, Kentucky. The Abbey of Gethsemani keeps beckoning us to come on retreat, and we traveled there twice this year. As it has been through many years, our days there were filled with worship, reading, walking the hills and trails, and resting in the arms of Nature’s wonder. How thankful we are for these respites from all the demands of our lives!

I’ve been blessed to be a spiritual leader for most of my life. For twenty-five years I served congregations in Ohio, and I was privileged to walk the pathway of faith with some of the finest people God ever made. The past quarter of a century I’ve been led to work with veterans as we try to come home from military service. All the way home to the Embrace that will never let us go.

Many of you are aware of my leadership of Point Man Ministries in Central Ohio. I’ve been at the helm of this outreach for a couple of decades, and though our numbers have fallen, our group continues to offer spiritual support for men and women who fought in Korea and Vietnam. Some younger warriors have joined us recently.

I added another piece to my life a few years ago when I accepted the Chaplaincy of the local chapter of the Disabled American Veterans. The DAV has for a century attended to the needs of veterans who have been wounded, injured, or suffered illnesses that are connected to their time in uniform. We also offer care to the families of these heroes, and our chapter is focused on providing medical equipment to all who suffer as a result of their service. Our power chairs, lift chairs, stairlifts, and ramps have enabled many to stay in their homes with dignity and quality of life. I’m honored to be part of this organization and to offer prayers, visits to nursing homes and private dwellings, and bereavement counseling when one of our members goes to guard Heaven’s streets.

So I am fulfilled beyond measure. And to quote one of my favorite writers, “God, if you never answered another prayer of mine and if you never blessed me with another gift, I would still praise you forever for what You’ve already done.”

Many of you have already donated generously to these veterans outreaches. If you’d like to give a tax-deductible gift to either, here are the addresses:

Point Man Ministries of Central Ohio

3915 Dublin Road

Columbus, Ohio 43221

(Check payable to Point Man Ministries)

DAV Capital City Chapter#3

PO Box 248255

Columbus, Ohio 43224

(Check payable to “DAV Chapter#3

Blessings to all.

Russ

Bob Dylan wrote a song about it recently. He called it “Murder Most Foul.” It was November 22, 1963. The day President John Kennedy died in Dallas, struck down by an assassin’s bullet.

I was a senior in high school. It was a Friday, and we were looking forward to Thanksgiving and the Holidays. Football had ended, with our Corry Beavers finishing with another winning record. Many of my classmates and I were in Mrs. Ortner’s French class when the voice of our principal, Leroy Peck, came over the intercom. “The President has been shot,” is what I remember. He must have told us more, but the shock of the news silenced my brain. In a few minutes, he announced that the President was dead.

We were so young back then. But suddenly we became old. We had lost our President, and much more. Many dreams died that awful day. Kennedy had inspired us and challenged us. He spoke of living life with “vigor” which of course he pronounced “vigah.” He had galvanized us to reach for the moon by the end of the decade. He initiated physical fitness programs that motivated us to be healthy and strong. I started lifting weights and running, because my President told me to be my best.

Yes, the dream died that day in Dallas. We lost our innocence; a black question mark blotted the sky like a storm cloud. I think we began to lose faith in government at that moment. Ensuing investigations arrived at answers that left many questions. Conspiracy theories began to emerge, and they still plague us. They undermine the trust we once had in authority and in each other.

Vietnam soon followed, adding to our cynicism. Many of us chose to fight that war; millions of others saw it as a lost cause from the outset. Some of my friends fled to Canada to avoid the draft. Some of my own family joined protests against the conflict in Southeast Asia.

Who knows how the 1960’s would have unfolded if Kennedy had lived? Many historians believe the Vietnam War would have turned out much differently. I agree with others who have said that much of the strife our nation endured in that tumultuous time would have been lessened by the wisdom, foresight, and compassion that JFK would have left as a legacy.

Yes, it happened on a Friday. And I remember that churches were filled the following Sunday. Americans needed to hold onto something that was firm and lasting. Our nation needs a spiritual rebirth today, in our own time of conflict and division. But this renewal with not come from only one narrow and exclusionary world view. It will be a decision human beings will make to live together in harmony and to listen to one another. For Christians, it will mean following Christ in ways of love and acceptance. For those of other faiths and those of no religion, it will in a similar way manifest itself in words and deeds of kindness.

The dream died sixty years ago, but perhaps we can revive it. Maybe the eternal flame in Arlington National Cemetery will guide us to a better country and a safer world.

Rest in Peace, President Kennedy. You will always be my hero.

“God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself.”

II Corinthians 5:19

This is a day of mystery. An overwhelming sense of silent awe needs to be within each of us. God, forgive me when I think I understand all that happened on Calvary and at the tomb so long ago. Your ways are far higher than mine, and there are truths too deep for me to grasp with my finite mind.

I only know that reverence fills me this morning. To think that the God of the Universe reconciled Heaven and Earth through one gift of sacrificial love is beyond me. There are so many ways we try to explain it, and we have developed vast theologies of The Atonement. But the ultimate truth still is too great for us. All I can do is bow my head in gratitude.

I do know that without this day, which is too often bypassed as we rush toward Sunday, the other high holy days are pointless. Christmas and Easter mean nothing if Good Friday never happened. Without the Cross, where God took into the Divine Self all the sin, pain, evil, shame and guilt of the entire human race, we would be hopeless. Our Maker and Savior absorbed it all, not only for the chosen few who think they have all the right words and beliefs, but for the whole world.

This is a truth I tried to share with congregations when I was their pastor. During those twenty-five years, those sincere and loving men and women listened to my sermons, my teaching, and my counsel in their times of joy and sorrow, delight and despair, and the seasons of planting and harvesting. My message was consistent: the Cross is the Crossroads of time and eternity. The intersection where all the chaos and confusion of disharmony is resolved. It is the place of Armistice and Peacemaking. And it all flows from the mercy of God. The Lord of the stars and the galaxies invites all of us to come to the place of reuniting and lay our burdens down.

If God’s grace is what I believe it is, then this message is for everyone struggling to walk the right path in life. A friend of mine was once counseling a young man who rejected everything about the Bible and the Christian faith. My colleagues words to him were, “God loves you even if you never darken the door of a church. And Jesus died for you, whether you like it or not.”

That is what I think this day is all about. Everyone is welcome to receive the gift that brings peace and hope to all. That is my prayer on this Good Friday. And remember. It was the darkest day in human history, but we call it good because of the deep and divine meaning of it. And it was followed by the Resurrection, the Springtime for every soul who ever lived.