Mistaken Identity
July 28, 2004

I am the father of two daughters, Laura and Jenny. This is one of the supreme joys of my life.

However, I am not anyone else's father.

During my 21 years as a Navy Chaplain, I've had a number of interesting and humorous encounters with those who have thought I was a Catholic priest. This is not an uncommon experience for military chaplains. A significant number of our military profess to be Roman Catholic. Therefore, when we are seen within military communities, it is often assumed that we are priests. Of course we do have Catholic priests serving as chaplains, but there is no way to outwardly identify a priest from a protestant chaplain. Unless, of course, the chaplain is female.

On the first day at the Navy Chaplains Basic Course in Newport, Rhode Island, new chaplains are asked to stand, state their names and briefly explain how they happened to become a Navy chaplain. When my class met, we dutifully responded as expected, hearing from each chaplain in the room. One chaplain stood up and said, "My name is Michael Monahan, and I am not a Catholic priest." We all laughed, appreciating his very Irish name, and how he might easily be mistaken for a priest.

My first encounter with being mistaken for a priest was during the Chaplains Basic Course. This was January 1984 — a very cold and snowy month with icy road conditions. Though I grew up in New England, I had not been in such cold conditions in many years. So I was glad to be wearing my heavy Navy coat, bedecked with the Lieutenant Junior Grade epaulets on each shoulder. Along with the gold piping which indicates the rank, there is also the symbol of the gold cross identifying the wearer as a chaplain of the Christian faith. I was in town one afternoon to pick up a few things for my room. While standing in line in a department store to make my purchase, a woman came up to me and knelt on one knee with her head bowed. I have no idea what the expression was on my face, but I can tell you what was going through my mind. She thinks I'm a priest! Should I say anything? As an evangelical protestant, is it okay for me to pray for her? Could I be accused of deception if I let her think I'm a Catholic priest? These thoughts and more took mere nanoseconds, but it felt like an eternity. I went ahead and offered a prayer, but I couldn't begin to tell you what I said. Nonetheless, she was pleased, smiled, and walked away.

Later, when I was the command chaplain of the USS White Plains, we frequently pulled into the naval port in Subic Bay, the Philippines. This country is predominantly Catholic, so walking around base is an interesting experience. Seeing the cross on my uniform, the Filipino employees of the base would warmly smile and offer a cheery, "Hello, Father." At first, I attempted to explain each time this happened that I was a protestant chaplain, not a Catholic priest, only to be greeted with the same smile. After giving my explanation, I would ask them if they understood that I was not a Catholic priest. To which they would reply, "Yes, Father." In that environment, I soon gave up trying to correct this misperception.

At other times, I would be greeted by a Marine or sailor with, "Good morning, Father."

I would then reply, "It's true that I am a father. I'm just not yours!" The light of understanding would dawn on their faces, and we'd laugh.

A couple of days ago, walking through the parking lot, two Marine lieutenants snapped to attention, and rendered the proper hand salute. One offered a verbal greeting, "Good afternoon, Father."

I smiled, returned their salute, briefly considered making a correction, but simply said, "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

The collegiality chaplains share is one of the true delights of being a Navy Chaplain. We crisscross each other's paths during our military careers, often serving alongside each other, learning all the while about each other's faith and practice.

A young female Marine came to my office the other day to ask me to bless the cross she wears around her neck. I smiled and informed her that I was not a Catholic priest. She smiled back and said, "That's okay, sir."

I asked her if she was on her way to Iraq. She said she was. She was having difficulty unclasping the chain, so I said, "Don't bother. Leave it on. Just let me pray for you."

I placed my hand on her shoulder and prayed for her to do her job as a Marine, asking the Lord to guide her steps, and to keep her safe from harm. I also prayed for the Lord to watch over her family during her absence. I concluded by asking the Lord to remind her, every time she looked at the cross around her neck, of the sacrifice Jesus made for her. Ending my prayer with, "Amen," she smiled, gave my hand a squeeze, and was gone.

It's fun serving the Lord!