Six degrees of separation...

I have a few heroes. Very few...

I enter the room of an 83 year old patient who pleasantly greets me and states he would like a visit. He quickly tells me his life story...aka...his profession and life work. "Carl" was a pharmacist, from a family of pharmacists dating back to the 1840's in Columbus, Ohio. "In fact," Carls states, "my grandfathers' first customer every morning for many years was Abraham Lincoln." "Wow, that's cool." I respond with. (As a chaplain it is NOT my job to attack patient's story, besides based on my recollection Lincoln did live in Columbus in his many runs for political office. It could have happened. Two days later carl's wife brings a copy of the Columbus newspaper with said picture in it. I was very impressed.)

This is not about Lincoln, though how can he not be any Americans' hero.

Carl was so full of life when the CEO of the hospital made a patient visit, which he does twice a week, Carl asked him for a job. "I was working until I was 80, and I can still contribute." No one in the room doubts him.

Carl asks me about my education and how I became a hospital chaplain. I give an abbreviated version.

Carl states "I know that seminary" my Uncle taught at a neighboring seminary, which he names and I know.

"I have been on that campus. It's beautiful. When did he teach there?" I ask.

"After World War II, for many years. Before that he taught Union Theological Seminary."

"I know that seminary. One of my hero's taught there."

"Who?" he asks. "Dietrich Bonehoffer. I admire his life, his writings, which I have read most of, and his stand against Hitler and the Nazi's. If I could met one person in my life he would be that person" I boldly proclaim.

"He was an amazing person." Carls says quietly.

I actually stand up and say "You met him?"

"You could say that. My family had Sunday dinner with him every Sunday night for quite a while. I was in school and he would come over with my uncle and they would talk about religion, theology, world events for hours."

My heart is racing like a school girl's seeing a movie star. "In fact, he usually came with the Neibhur brothers..."

"Richard and Reinhold Niebhur" I interrupt with.

"Yeah, that's their names. You have heard of them?"

"Yes, I have heard of them. They are some of my hero's of the faith" as I fall back in my chair.

"I can remember them pleading with Deitrich not to go back to Germany, but we knew he would."

"His writings from within a Concentration camp is some of the most powerful and rich writings of anyone other than the Scriptures. In fact, his writings on what it means "to be church" challenges everything about my experience of the American church which is so shallow and timid."

"I'll tell you something I bet you don't know?"

"Please!"

"I wonder if you knew that he, the Nierbhur's and many other in America and Europe ran an Underground Railroad for Jewish families and peoples for many years."

"No, I did not know that."

"I had a very small part of it, but honestly I didn't really do anything."

"Please tell me!"

"Well, when they would get a Jewish family on a ship to get them out of Europe I would get a brief message to pick them up in New York City and get them to Columbus. There we had a network of groups, synagogues and church's to take care of them until they integrated into the community. Honestly, I did this for several years, but it was easy compared to what they were doing in Germany."

"Every link in the chain is equally important, what an incredible life you have lived."

"Thank you so much for talking to me. I am a little tired, but please come back. I would love to talk some more."

"Peace and grace be unto you. I will."

Ten days later Carl died.

Seven days after that I recieved a card from his widow of 63 years thanking me for talking with and visiting her husband and 'sense of joy' I bought to Carl in what became his final days.

Bless you Carl...you are my hero!