Lowering the Wing: Humility as a Competency in Spiritual Care

During my very first weeks of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) at one of the largest hospitals in Houston, I received a profound invitation to lifelong humility. As a new Muslim chaplain, I felt I had a solid foundation. I held a master’s degree in Islamic studies and Christian-Muslim relations, had spent years as an interfaith nonprofit executive, and had studied the Bible extensively. Because the vast majority of my patients were Christian, I focused my initial energy on navigating spontaneous prayer and Christian theologies of suffering. 

Conversely, I felt entirely confident about visiting Muslim patients. We shared foundational beliefs, key rituals, and a common theological framework. I had already experienced several encounters where patients expressed deep spiritual comfort through my recitation of the Quran. What I had yet to fully internalize, however, was just how beautifully diverse Muslims in the United States truly are. I was about to learn how this immense diversity serves as both a beautiful tapestry and a rich opportunity for a chaplain’s clinical growth. 

With this internal baggage, I walked into the room of an African American Muslim patient in his fifties. I greeted him with As-salaamu alaykum (“Peace be upon you”). He smiled warmly, delighted to find that the hospital had a Muslim chaplain on staff, even though Muslims make up only about 1% of the U.S. population. As we established rapport, my anxiety as a student dissolved into comfort, allowing our conversation to deepen. 

I soon realized this patient had a profound connection to the Quran, our holy scripture, though he did not know how to read Arabic text. As our visit drew to a close, I asked how I could best support him before leaving. He requested that I recite a selection from the Quran, and then—to my surprise—he asked for the Lord’s Prayer. 

For Muslims, the Quran holds inherent healing, and its rhythmic Arabic recitation offers a soothing presence, as scripture reminds us: “People, a teaching from your Lord has come to you, a healing for what is in [your] hearts” (Quran 10:57). It is not uncommon to see a family member chanting the Quran at a patient's bedside, or to find an iPad or phone playing the recitation near a patient's ear in the ICU. But the request for the Lord’s Prayer caught me off guard. 

One of the core tenets of my CPE training was to appropriately name my feelings in the room if it benefits the patient. 

Leaning into this competency, I gently expressed my surprise. The patient smiled and explained that his grandmother had taught him the Lord’s Prayer when he was growing up, and it had remained close to his heart ever since. 

I readily reassured him that I would honor his request. I recited the Quran for him, filling the hospital room with its sacred melody. Since the Lord’s Prayer was not part of my own tradition or memory, the patient began to recite it aloud while I stood right next to his bed and held space with him. I realized this was a vivid manifestation of co-creating a sacred space, a concept my CPE educator frequently emphasized. 

Leaving that room, I felt an overwhelming sense of amazement. This encounter became a cornerstone of my formation as a chaplain. It serves as a permanent reminder that no matter how much academic knowledge or cultural confidence I think I have, my spiritual care demands that I let go of my own assumptions. It requires me to remain humble, surrender my agenda, and be fully present to the lived experience of the person before me—embodying what the scripture beautifully inspires: “lower your wing tenderly over the believers who follow you” (Quran 26:215).