All tagged chaplaincy
So much of my ministry is about non-anxious listening without a rush to judgment, which can be incredibly difficult! And I often compare it to the ministry of pulling rocks out of soil rather than reaping the harvest, because so many come with a troubled history with Christianity and “organized religion.”
I have heard the prayers of a person with dementia after someone prayed with them and, although to our ear it may be difficult to understand, the Lord knows their heart inside and out. It is such a beautiful thing to witness. The Lord's Prayer is often familiar to those with a spiritual background and can bring a sense of peace.
Before we were, He was and is already in the womb… that sacred place where nothing is hidden, unseen, unknown, unspoken, or unloved from Him. God’s presence in our created being is described as being with us in our innermost parts; woven together; the way we think and feel; knit together in an unformed body; put together.
I am a professional spiritual care giver, and it is an honor to provide that relational presence to folks whose condition often leaves them vulnerable and isolated. I have learned to honor family members' choices about how best to interact with their loved one. And occasionally, I have provided emotional support to those trying to cope with the grief that comes with having a family member suffering from dementia.
I would grow to be endeared by Sterling’s humor, caring nature, and honesty in the face of death. Sterling was not a particularly religious person, holding no particular allegiances to any established faith. We had very little personally in common, but sometimes you just click with someone.
It is not unusual for patients to experience spiritual distress throughout their medical journey. Conversely, many patients also find their faith deepened as a result of facing their own mortality. I find that patients who are allowed to express and explore their doubts and fears without judgement are the ones who find their faith most strengthened.
Perhaps most importantly, I was told told how to think differently. Instead of thinking, “I am wasting my time here,” think, “the gift of my time here honors this person as an individual worthy of love and respect.” A chaplain’s role is not to fix things or “do” something, but to bear silent witness to the suffering of another person.
To me, chaplaincy is the art of presence. It’s about stepping into the unknown, where the tapestry of life unfolds in unexpected ways. We arrive, often unaware of the stories that await us or the roles we will play. Yet we stand ready, like sentinels of faith, poised for the perfect moment to weave our threads into the fabric of the present.
As I reflect on the words “Let the little children come to me and don’t hinder them for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Luke 18:15–17), I envision the golden gates of heaven being thrown open and little children everywhere running around with the purest joy you can imagine. Big smiles, no earthly ailments to hinder their physical abilities. I imagine the happiest moment in my life, but instead of just reliving that one moment, it’s a feeling that never ends. But today, this scripture has a whole different personal meaning when I hear it.
I was reminded in this encounter of how adaptable chaplains have to be on a daily basis. We show up for the crises but also the liminal space of the unknown. And where others see barriers, we often see an opportunity to build a bridge.
Those of us in the chaplaincy caregiving realm of ministry have the privilege of journeying with people in some of their most challenging life experiences. Yet we also, if we’re really engaged with their narratives, are using much psychic and spiritual energy. We need refreshment.
As I incorporated reverence into my practice, I began to recognize the presence of God. Yes, there was overwhelming need and sadness in this critical care hospital but in the midst of it all, if I stopped to be still and practice reverence, I witnessed how God was at work in this place.
In the hustle of hospital corridors, amidst the beeping of monitors and the steady flow of patients and staff, chaplains often encounter God in ways that defy conventional expectations. As microcosms of human diversity, hospitals present unique opportunities to witness God. Here, individuals face their most vulnerable selves, whether due to illness, loss, or fear. In these moments, God is encountered in profound, unfiltered ways. It is not always within the walls of a church or in the company of believers that we most powerfully experience the divine. Instead, God’s presence often reveals itself in the faces and lives of those we least expect—those who may never speak the language of faith yet embody the very heart of divine compassion. These encounters reveal that the image of God—the imago Dei—dwells in everyone (Genesis 1:26-27).
Victor’s room looks out on a small courtyard. From his bed, he can see other buildings and a sliver of sky – just enough to be able to tell whether it’s clear or cloudy, rainy or fair. This limited view is as much as he has seen of the outside world since he was admitted to the hospital for a surgical operation that was supposed to be routine but instead was followed by serious complications.
My father is a professional artist, and when I was five years old, our local church commissioned him to paint a mural of St. John of God. John was born in Portugal in 1495 and was a soldier before he had a personal encounter with God. After this radical encounter, he believed his vocation was to serve the sick and poor, and he was often found cleaning the wounds of lepers. My father's painting depicted the leper whose feet St. John was washing, as the leper miraculously transformed into Christ. That powerful image impacted me as a child, has remained with me, and has become a part of my pastoral identity as a hospital chaplain.
Professionally, Chaplains are expected to gain self-awareness. I already noted how personal identity is formed through the connecting links of stories, and awareness of this helps identify the stories of others. The motivations for a calling to ministry can be numerous and sometimes may appear self-serving.
A chaplain with a clear sense of identity understands their theological convictions and how these beliefs translate into actionable ministry. This clarity enables them to create authentic connections and lead with conviction, fostering trust within their care of the patient and the treatment team.
An honor walk is a day when a person has gone to be with the Lord. This person had chosen beforehand to donate their organs to others waiting for these precious gifts. It is an extremely profound day for the organ donor’s family, and also a day of rejoicing for the recipients.
Imagine receiving a call telling you to evacuate your home due to a fast-moving fire in your direction and there’s only one road out. What do you take with you? Where do you go, and how much time do you have? Such was our situation on September 4, 2011. I was in shock and had no idea what to do.