Sitting within the front row of a supervisor training in 2016, Stamford Police Sgt. Sean Boeger raised his hand each time the teacher asked who had handled a selected experience, including homicides, fatal accidents, and child deaths.
During his nearly 30 years as a police officer, 48-year-old Boeger had helped with body recovery efforts at Ground Zero after 9/11. When 20 children were killed by a lone shooter in 2012 at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, just 40 miles from Stamford, Boeger volunteered to assist the small Newtown police department. He covered midnight shifts as officers took time to recuperate.
The instructor on the training triggered something in Boeger. Until that class, he had never dwelt much on the effect of witnessing a lot trauma. Driving home that evening, he also thought back to a different incident, when he responded to a report of a small child falling out of an eighth-story window.
“I felt overwhelmed, sort of panic-stricken,” he recalled of that evening. “I believe I used to be more in shock from the stuff I’d never contemplated and the trauma impact it had on me. Because you don’t stop to give it some thought.”
So Boeger did something he had never contemplated previously: He sought help from John Revell, a chaplain who had recently been spending time along with his department.
“I don’t know what’s occurring with me, but I feel like I want to discuss with you,” Boeger recalls telling Revell, whom he calls “the Rev.” Revell invited him over, interrupting his family dinnertime, and the 2 spent an hour or so talking. It opened the door to a longer-term relationship, and an eventual appreciation for the Rev’s consistent presence across the department.
Given the increased stress police have been experiencing across the country, chaplains are needed greater than ever to help officers of their work. They’re serving police departments, not only to point out up for departmental ceremonies and funerals but to construct relationships and supply counsel for the traumatic incidents police so often face.
In the wake of the death of George Floyd in 2020, rising racial tensions and calls for reform have increased the pressure surrounding law enforcement behavior and performance prior to now 4 years. A Police Executive Research Forum survey found that from 2020 to 2021, police departments nationwide saw a forty five percent increase within the retirement rate and an almost 20 percent increase in resignations in comparison with the previous yr.
Due to repeated exposure to high-stress and even life-threatening incidents, US law enforcement officials specifically have high rates of depression, suicide (and suicide ideation), alcohol use, divorce, and domestic violence, in response to a 2023 study published within the Journal of Police and Criminal Psychology. More officers reportedly die of suicide than every other cause, including by firearms or traffic-related accidents.
But much research, including one 2023 study, suggests that access to chaplains advantages law enforcement officials’ mental health and that spirituality contributes to resilience within the face of PTSD symptoms.
In earlier many years, most chaplains were local pastors. But in recent times, there was a major increase in using chaplains specifically trained for police or with law enforcement background, in each large and small agencies across the United States and in quite a few other countries.
One of the biggest networks, The International Conference of Police Chaplains, represents nearly 2,500 law enforcement chaplains across 15 countries. The North American Mission Board, a Southern Baptist organization, sponsors more than 500 public safety and first responder chaplains.
While Boeger, like many officers, doesn’t consider himself particularly religious, his experience with the Rev and the local chaplaincy program has convinced him of chaplaincy’s value. Meeting with the Rev offered much-needed outside support—simply to have someone hearken to him and help him not feel alone, he said.
“It’s not like [the Rev] has magical powers or a special technique, it’s having someone who understands,” Boeger said. “Most people need to discuss [their trauma] and express it, they don’t all the time realize they simply have to discuss it and have someone who’s nonjudgmental to hearken to them. It’s sort of simplistic, nevertheless it’s not a simple job.”
Revell doesn’t see his role as a magical solution either. It’s about constructing relationships. “In those sorts of situations, mostly what I do is listen,” he said. “I ask questions and provides [officers] a likelihood to unburden themselves.”
In some jurisdictions, police chaplains are hired for ceremonial reasons or to answer major crisis events comparable to a mass casualty event. But Revell and his team follow what they call “deployment chaplaincy,” which imitates military chaplaincy by sending ministers to domestic frontlines. The Christian idea behind this, Revell says, is incarnational ministry.
Revell, 68, runs Life Line Chaplaincy and is welcomed as an official chaplain for 4 Connecticut departments, including the state department, and as an unofficial on-call chaplain for several others.
In these roles, law enforcement chaplains don’t only show up after an officer dies in the road of duty or to support officers who’ve responded to grisly scenes. They also attend to officers’ personal lives: the birth of a stillborn, the death of a parent, ongoing support of a spouse, and, sometimes, speaking at an officer’s funeral.
“Especially with law enforcement officials, you’ll be able to’t just pick a random person and unload all that stuff,” Boeger said. “When you confide in someone, you’re placing a burden on [them].”
For Stamford Police Lt. Doug Deiso, a chaplain just like the Rev offers a comforting spiritual aspect to their work. “People in law enforcement are type A personalities and think they’ll cope with issues on their very own,” Deiso said. “But it’s not all the time serious or stern with him. You may give him a hug. And when he comes around and sees I’m busy, he doesn’t attempt to box me in a corner.”
Certainly, a chaplain’s role also involves aiding officers of their high-stress field. Revell, for instance, maintains a presence through officer “ride-alongs” of their vehicle, informal breakfast meetings, and showing up usually at their department headquarters. He also responds to emergency incidents to take care of officers when a police chief requests it.
“There’s a long-term profession buildup of trauma and stress as a primary responder,” Boeger said. “If you’re employed in a busy area, you’re going to accumulate microtraumas through the years.”
While chaplaincy is a robust resource for police agencies, it’s not the one factor for helping officers cope. Now, police academies are teaching officers more about tips on how to respond well to the job stressors and to manage higher. But 20 years ago, that was not available, and the police culture continues to be shifting. Expressing feelings is seen as an indication of weakness, multiple officers said. Female officers especially feel the pressure to be perceived as strong and unemotional.
Law enforcement agencies have all the time addressed physical health, but in the previous couple of years they’ve increasingly addressed mental health and trauma, said Connecticut state trooper Rodney Valdes, a peer support and chaplaincy programs coordinator with the state.
“We are product of mind, body, and spirit/soul,” Valdes said. “We’re attending body and mind but often neglecting the third—the spirit. How can we introduce spirituality to a police culture that may be very anti-[religion]?”
This injury to the spirit after participating in or witnessing an event that violates the conscience—comparable to cruel behavior or a criminal offense—is now known in chaplaincy circles as moral injury. It may end up in deep shame, guilt, and even despair. Chaplains have a singular role to supply in addressing this wound in ways a medical doctor or therapist won’t give you the option to.
Police departments don’t all the time welcome chaplains. Even with increasing awareness around emotional support, it’s hard to realize trust and for law enforcement personnel to see the purpose in receiving spiritual or holistic care. Revell spent years with multiple consecutive police chiefs, gaining trust for himself and his work by showing up and spending time on the departments.
Now, along with chaplaincy, complementary resources like peer-to-peer support and worker assistance programs offer counseling. This spring, Revell organized an inaugural first-responder wellness conference for nearly 300 participants.
Revell and lots of others see their spiritual leadership as merely a humble obedience to the biblical command to “carry one another’s burdens” (Gal. 6:2).
“They’re forced to face all of this darkness. It’s easy to be overwhelmed with all of this darkness,” Revell said. “My goal is to be a source of sunshine for them. The whole goal is to see the sunshine of Christ tangibly in my ability to walk with them.”
It isn’t only Revell’s endurance that makes an impact, Deiso added, but his open-door policy—and his wife’s chili and cookies.
For Boeger and Deiso, the chaplain’s vocation of presence is sustenance enough.
“The biggest thing for me is that [the Rev] stood next to me once we’ve had people lose their lives,” Deiso said. “He’s stood next to me within the rain, within the cold, and didn’t at one point complain about it. He mourned for us and with us. I’ve seen him stand in five-degree weather during funerals. He did that for a lot of hours. That’s powerful.”
Kara Bettis Carvalho is ideas editor at Christianity Today. This article was supported by a grant from the Chaplaincy Innovation Lab at Brandeis University in partnership with Templeton Religion Trust.
