ORLANDO  |   The moniker of “Soldiers of Christ” is sometimes used for priests. It is especially fitting for priests who bring Christ to soldiers.

According to a report offered by the Orange County (Calif.) Catholic, fewer than 200 active-duty Catholic priests are responsible for the sacramental needs of nearly 1 million Catholic servicemembers, representing a quarter of all American soldiers worldwide. Many soldiers cannot participate in the Mass for months at a time, let alone receive other Sacraments.

Priests of the Diocese of Orlando have served their country as military chaplains since 1987. This two-part series shares the stories of some of the diocese’s chaplains.

FATHER ALLEN STAHL

Father Allen Stahl found himself in a tent in Yakima at the U.S. Army’s Fort Lewis in Washington surrounded by his “battle rattle,” or military equipment. He said to himself, “Lord, what did I get myself into?”

Then he heard the Lord respond, “It’s not what you got yourself into. It’s what we got ourselves into.”

Father Stahl was the first priest ordained in the Diocese of Orlando to become a military chaplain. In 1987, a pastoral letter written by then Bishop Thomas Grady urged priests to consider military chaplaincy. Father Stahl responded to that call, and became fortified by God’s reassurance.

“I actually became stronger in my own spirituality as a priest because I had to rely upon the Lord more, dealing with the soldiers. Sometimes when you’re in great need you come closer to the Lord,” he said. “I found the challenge was to stretch myself beyond my comfort zone.”

At age 38 he found himself working with young people whose lives were ahead of them. He found “a certain dynamism” about that. He had always wanted to be a missionary and considered this “a type of missionary work.”

“Going to different places with different assignments. Spiritually it was a sense of plunging into something necessary. The military was in desperate need for priests,” he said.

Although his primary mission was to serve Catholics, the truth is he served any soldier in need who came to him. To bond with soldiers, he often participated in rucksack marches, repelled from helicopters, and joined in company runs. It also helped him stay fit.

“You become one of them. To me that was an extraordinary thing,” Father Stahl said.

What began as a three-year commitment resulted in 20 years of service taking him as far as the Sinai Desert as a part of national peacekeeping force with NATO, to Germany, Haiti, South Korea and several locations throughout the United States, ultimately earning him the Legion of Merit.

“The medals and all the other stuff doesn’t amount to much,” he said. “It’s the spiritual things you do for them.”

He remembered being stationed in Berlin and getting a call late into the evening. A soldier apologized but urgently asked to meet with him. He was not Catholic, but that did not matter.

As they spoke, Father Stahl noticed he sounded strange. The soldier then admitted he took enough drugs to kill himself. Stahl rushed him to the hospital and the soldier survived. Eventually, the man married and had a family and kept in touch with the chaplain who helped save his life.

“The act of saving a life and being present,” he said, recalling the words of Pope Francis that priests should “smell like the sheep.” “They call the chaplaincy a ministry of presence.”

FATHER CHRIS DORSEY

In 2019, recently ordained Father Chris Dorsey became a U.S. Army chaplain. His first assignment was at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri with the 84th Chemical Battalion, where he received basic training along other soldiers.

The men in his unit also received Advanced Individual Training (AIP) in CBRN, which refers to chemical, biological, radiological and nuclear threats and materials.

“If there is a chemical or nuclear threat, (those soldiers) have the specialty to deal with that,” he said.

Father Dorsey arrived at the base just in time to relieve the previous priest assigned to the post. With no experience he learned on the fly how to run a “parish” for his community soldiers and families on base, including providing faith formation, sacramental preparation and opportunities for fellowship. He also offered monthly talks on morality and spiritual resiliency.

When he wasn’t at the chapel, which he shared with several faith denominations, he worked with his unit in the field and participated in physical training. Like Father Stahl, he wanted to become one of them.

“If you’re not going through the bad stuff with people, they’re not going to come to you when bad stuff happens,” he said.

For two years, his days began at 4:30 a.m. and often ended after 7 p.m. Many of the soldiers came right out of basic training, and experienced their first time away from home.

“Their day revolves around being yelled at and told what to do. When they get to CBRN, there’s a lot of classwork,” said Father Dorsey said. “There is a fear of failure and not being good enough. There’s a lot of sitting down with those soldiers and talking it through. It’s up to the person you’re talking to how much you can bring faith into that.”

Arriving just prior to the COVID pandemic restrictions, Father Dorsey received permission to visit the sick sent to a special infirmary. Due to distance requirements, he celebrated seven Masses on Sunday as he was limited to serving 100 people at a time. He is grateful for the transformations enabled by his position, reconnecting young soldiers with God.

“The chapel became a place of refuge where the drill sergeants can’t yell at you. And it was a way to extend to them this place of God’s mercy and love,” Father Dorsey shared. “They would get to be lectors or play worship music. A ton came to confession.”

In 2021 he was assigned to Camp Zama in Japan, near Tokyo. The work was similar, but on a much smaller scale. You could run the camp on a three-mile loop. It was a challenge to work in another country with a different language and culture in such a confined area.

“That can very much be an isolated place of stress,” he said. With a 12-hour time difference with the U.S., even conversations with family and friends were difficult.”

To go to confession, the closest English-speaking priest was an hour away at the Naval Base. Father Dorsey was the only Catholic priest the Army had in Japan.

But he embraced the mission. He and his community began a quarterly program to feed the homeless. He recalled they would give out 100 meals in less than half an hour. But with no fellow priests nearby and the time change making it difficult to reach out to anyone for conversation or advice, he felt isolated.

Still, he was at peace with God’s divine providence. He recalled a soldier confiding she was pregnant, and her boyfriend wanted her to abort the baby. She was not Catholic, but trusted him. Although scared, she chose to embrace the gift. She recently sent him a photo of her with the child.

“All priests have the chance to do that, but the military put me in a position to encounter her, who is not Catholic,” he said. “Rarely do we get to see the fruits that clearly — to see a baby who might not have been there if not for you. I do believe there were a lot of lives I got to touch.”

“It’s a place where that ministry is very much needed,” he continued. “You may be the only priest some may ever meet. To be there in times of difficulty, even if I don’t get to bring the fullness of the faith to them, but to point them in that direction, I believe is a beautiful ministry in and of itself.”

To learn more about military chaplains, click here.

By Glenda Meekins of the Florida Catholic staff, April 3, 2025