Published April 30, 2004
 
NEW BALTIMORE — They call each other brothers.

One wears blue and a badge; the other, black and a Roman collar.
But if you ask New Baltimore police sergeant Chuck Esser and archdiocesan priest Fr. Jim Wieging about what they do, they'll tell you: A lot of the same things.

"We both have a sense that we've responded to a vocation in our lives," says Fr. Wieging, pastor of Our Lady of Lourdes Parish in River Rouge. "And they're not very different vocations."

On May 6, the Archdiocese of Detroit will recognize the vocation of law enforcement officials by celebrating the seventh annual Blue Mass. The Mass, to be celebrated by Auxiliary Bishop Walter Schoenherr at the Cathedral of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Detroit, is especially for those who serve and protect on the job – including police officers, customs workers, b order patrol and federal agents.

"This is what the Church does to say we recognize what law enforcement is," says Fr. Wieging, 62, who through his ministry has served as chaplain for police and sheriff departments, the Federal Bureau of Investigation and Detroit Metro Airport.

"We want to join in whatever way we can to celebrate that."

 

 

Fr. Wieging and Esser met when Esser was charged with creating a chaplaincy at the New Baltimore Police Department two years ago. Long-time chaplain Felician Sr. Ann Stamm at Madonna University in Livonia put him in touch with Fr. Wieging, who since has made regular visits up to New Baltimore to train chaplains, and sometimes to ride along in a patrol car with Esser.

This year, the International Conference of Police Chaplains, an organization that trains and certifies chaplains and law enforcement officials, will certify Esser as a chaplain liason. The two-dozen member New Baltimore Police Department now has three chaplains to help with counseling officers and victims.

Over the course of Esser's training, Fr. Wieging has taken a shining to the soft-spoken 50-year-old police officer and adopted him as his little brother.

"I said if we were brothers, he couldn't call me 'Father,' anymore," Fr. Wieging says with a smile. "He had a hard time with that. At first, he would call me bro'. Now finally he can call me Jim."

Indeed, Fr. Wieging and Esser say they get along like brothers. They have similar tastes when it comes to food; but Esser likes sports and Fr. Wieging likes art and theatre. There are plenty of things they kid each other about.

But when it comes to their vocations, both can come up with dozens of ways to compare life in ministry with life in law enforcement.
They both wear many different hats. Fr. Wieging is a pastor, a chaplain and a teacher. Esser is a shift supervisor, a chaplain liaison, is in the department's detective bureau and, when he gets home, is a husband and father.

Both men encounter people when they are desperate.

Both have looked into the somber eyes of a victim and offered a shoulder to cry on.

Both have worked tirelessly to uphold what is just and pleasing to God.

"You see so many different situations," says Esser, 50, a parishioner at Immaculate Conception in Anchorville. "You sit and listen to people when they need help… We're confessors. There are people who seek guidance from us. People seek us out when life, for them, is at its very worst."

Both men have stories, too – many stories they can only fully share with one another because they know a life different than most. They come closer than most to life's tragedy. And they come closer than most to life's miracles.

Esser recalls when, in his rookie year in the New Baltimore Police Department, he helped deliver a baby in the back seat of a car.
Fr. Wieging, two weeks after Sept. 11, 2001, stood at Ground Zero in New York City, and became the comforting face of the Church for rescue workers searching for bodies.

Priest or police, both minister. Both bring Christ's justice and mercy to those in the hour of need.

That's why Esser became a police officer.

"I saw how they were helping people and getting involved," he says. "I wanted to get into a profession where I could help people – that was my motivation."

So when Esser comes to the cathedral with hundreds of his fellow, faithful uniform-clad law enforcement officials, he'll be able to see the appreciation his brother – and the entire Church – has for him. And he'll have one more chance to reflect on both the rigors and blessings of his vocation to serve and protect.

Not that he hasn't done so already.

"My Catholic upbringing has helped me realize," says Esser.  "that whatever life dishes out, God will always give me the strength to handle.