Police chaplains for a changing world

You'd expect to find a chaplain in a hospital, in the military, or at the scene of a terrible accident.

But on TRAX? In your office?

You might find them there, too.

Chaplains are popping up all over Utah, offering a listening ear or helping hand to the masses — Utah Transit Authority police detective and Chaplain Randall Mansfield even has prayed, when asked, for the arrested en route to the pokey.

"But I tell them right off," he says, "'I won't pray that you won't go to jail."'

The Rev. Mansfield, a 33-year police veteran, is an officer who doubles as a chaplain. He's never had a problem; nor have several other chaplains interviewed for this article. But in a few states, chaplains paid with taxpayer dollars have been entangled in church-state separation lawsuits. A bill now before Congress would allow military chaplains to close prayer "in Jesus' name" at public venues, as some chaplains feel pressured to use nondenominational language they feel waters down their faith.

So how do chaplains deliver, as the International Conference of Police Chaplains puts it, a "ministry of presence," while protecting their First Amendment rights, and the rights of others?

Trained chaplains know how to sidestep the dilemma.

Twenty-five years ago, the Rev. Mansfield found himself in a hospital, shot clean through the knee by a suspect he was chasing. He wished he had a chaplain to lean on at the time. But his employer didn't have one.

"It would have meant so much to me to have a hand on my shoulder ... (that) would give me that boost, that support, that spiritual strength that I needed."

Today, the Rev. Mansfield visits officers' family members in the hospital, facilitates police workshops on stress management and talks to transients.

The 10 volunteer and one part-time chaplains at the Salt Lake County Sheriff's Office are called to accident and crime scenes to help the grieving.

The 14 volunteer chaplains at the Salt Lake City Police Department primarily do death notifications. They're trained to be direct, yet caring, and often sit with families, listen and assist with practical matters — how to deal with a medical examiner, for instance, and often leave pamphlets with families.

Police head chaplain and detective, the Rev. Jay Rhodes, says sometimes it's just about being there. Once called to a suicide, the Rev. Rhodes remembers a mother who walked right up him, lay her head on his shoulders and sobbed.