Hope

A recent article in PlainViews asked the question, “How can we as healthcare chaplains help our patients look further down the road with hope?”  This is a significant question, especially in the hospice setting, as so many see terminality as the cessation of hope.  There are still occasions where family members ask us not to mention the disease to the patient, or not to mention hospice at all, as doing so will cause the patient to “lose hope” and die in a pit of despair and sadness.  Sometimes this does happen, but from my experience it is very rare.

It is true that a terminal diagnosis often causes or represents a loss of hope for the patient and the family.  The future that was planned for seems lost.  There can be last grasps at miracles, medical or otherwise, in order to make things as they were before the diagnosis.  It’s not surprising that the loss of hope comes with so much grief.  The question remains of how we can help patients and families look forward “down the road” when the road seems to have run out over a cliff.

In these circumstances, the chaplain can help by reframing what hope is and what is hoped for.  One must first recognize those losses, including lost hope, and find meaning in them.  When the meaning of what was hoped for is understood, it may be possible to find other resources to maintain that meaning, or find new meaning out of the shards of what was lost.  For example, a family has just been told that their aging mother, who always wanted to reach her 101st birthday, probably won’t make it to her 95th.  While recognizing the loss of that goal and the hope associated with it, the chaplain may work to find out what that birthday meant to her and find ways to celebrate than meaning in the here-and-now.

New paths of hope can be forged as well which had never been considered before: the hope that one can die at home, mend a broken fence with a family member, to choose not to endure undesired treatments, to live as one wants rather than as expected.

The loss of hope is not permanent.  The chaplain, through use of active listening and reflection and meaning-making, can assist by offering paths and opportunities which perhaps had not been considered, and by honoring the paths that are taken.

On Luke 9:46-48

Then an argument started among them about who would be the greatest of them.  But Jesus, knowing the thoughts of their hearts,took a little child and had him stand next to Him. He told them, “Whoever welcomes this little child in My name welcomes Me. And whoever welcomes Me welcomes Him who sent Me. For whoever is least among you—this one is great.” Lk 9:46-48

On my daily morning commute to work I heard Chuck Swindoll speak on this passage briefly.  He spoke on it regarding confronting biblically, but it resonated with me in a much different way.

One of the things that I struggle with most in my job is affirmation and recognition.  Most of the time I don’t find it an issue.  I try my best to do my job, do it well, and go home.  However it’s not hard to get discouraged at times, especially when hard work gets overlooked over and over again.  I had a discussion with a friend who felt in the same position, finding that overwork and poor boundaries tend to get rewarded.  We both found the desire to draw more attention to ourselves in order to earn what we thought was our share of praise and glory.

We looked around though, and found that in many cases the exemplary “employee of the month” is the first to burn out.  In that light, was the praise worth it?

In this passage from Luke we find a similar struggle going on among the disciples.  Who’s the greatest?  Who’s the “disciple of the month?”  Who goes over and above?  Jesus, in this passage, directs rebuke not at their apparent behavior but at the cause of their behavior – pride, leading to resentment and division.  Rather than pick one of the disciples to stand at his side, he chooses a child.  The disciples did not have a good track record with children, shooing them away from Jesus at about any occasion they could.  Yet Jesus sought out children precisely for this reason.

Children long to be recognized, to be affirmed.  The minute one grabs the spotlight and says “look at me!”, another tries to trump it.  I think we are born strivers to some degree, some more than others.  Is such striving learned or inherent?

I can’t say, but I want to unlearn it.

Some time ago I read Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead (ok – I listened to it in the car).  The hero of the book is a striver as well, but not to impress others.  The architect/hero Roarke savored the intrinsic satisfaction of living up to what he saw as his own inherent potential.  He cared less what others thought, going so far as to blow up one of his own buildings because it had been altered from his specifications.  He stated,

Every form of happiness is private. Our greatest moments are personal, self-motivated, not to be touched. The things which are sacred or precious to us are the things we withdraw from promiscuous sharing. But now we are taught to throw everything within us into public light and common pawing.

I wish I could do that.  And perhaps that has something to with the Luke passage as well.  I can cling to the recognition of others as a marker of who I am and the value of what I’ve accomplished.  I can also cast that aside to find myself as I am in Jesus’ eyes, who doesn’t care what tricks I do.  My own pride so often comes between me and my Lord, not to mention my wife, my co-workers, and my friends.

On Advice

I get an e-journal on medical chaplaincy that usually gets a brief look-over when it ends up in my inbox.  While the articles are usually either clinically-minded or introspective, there has been an ongoing back-and-forth discussion on what exactly the practice of chaplaincy should look like.

Chaplains have a bit of a blind task at times in the medical world.  We are asked to provide spiritual care for someone who may not be able to understand us well or at all due to dementia.  We may have folks who are even unresponsive.  The question obviously arises as to how that happens.

The answer has been called by some “the art of presence” or the “practice of presence”.  The idea is that some cases do not require direct intervention or active participation, only the conscious presence of a caring individual.  This has numerous benefits in the hectic world of medicine, where nobody has time to simply sit and be with someone for even 30 minutes. 

The question arose in discussion though about whether or not the chaplain’s primary stance is one of passivity and witness.  Chaplains are often trained in models of therapy that involve active listening, reflection, and unconditional positive regard.  But are there situations and circumstances that require more direct intervention?  Should we correct erroneous attitudes?  Should we give advice when asked?  What if I’m wrong?  Then again, what if I’m right?

I have given advice and offered correction, but only after I feel that the other person has been fully heard and when they feel that I have fully heard them.  I’ve been in situations where I’m at the end of the rope and asked for advice and not gotten it.  It is frustrating to be answered with silence but also a time to recognize that answers aren’t easy.

Why I’m Not Writing

My other blog, on which I write about trivial tech things that most everyone else has already heard of, gets anywhere from 20-40 hits a day.  It’s no big deal for me to whip off a 500 word essay on the importance of backing up files or why the iPad is fantastic and boring at the same time.

So why can’t I write about something that takes up 75% of my waking time and is probably the most important thing I do every day?

I’ve been struggling with this.  I want to write more, but usually when I decide that I want to I just look at the screen and sigh.  Like it just couldn’t hold it all.  It’s easy to be trivial or to talk about mundane things.  Just look at TV newscasts and all the “news” that gets thrown up at you, or our infatuation with reality shows and instant fame.  But to write about something I feel seriously about is hard.  I want to get it right and I want others to find it insightful and interesting.

On the other hand, I don’t know if I can write about my job as a chaplain.  I want to share something from my heart, but I don’t know if it will come back and bite me.  I also don’t know if my experiences are really interesting or if they’re just plain.  They feel plain at times, even when they’re profound.

Anyhow, just to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about this little world.  Hopefully it will get more populated soon.

Reflection on John 11 and Hebrews 2: Incomplete Pictures

Readings: John 11:32-44 (the death of Lazarus), Hebrews 2:10-15  

“In bringing many sons to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering.  Both the one who makes men holy and those who are made holy are of the same family.  So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers.  He says, “I will declare your name to my brothers; in the presence of the congregation I will sing your praises.”  And again, “I will put my trust in him.”  And again he says, “Here am I, and the children God has given me.”  Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death – that is the devil – and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.”

There are many ideas in Christianity that are difficult, if not nearly impossible, to understand.  These facets of our faith that are the most difficult, though, also happen to be some of the most critical.  One of these is the nature of Jesus Christ himself.  Jesus is not merely favored by God, or God-like, but is God.  John declares him to be “the Word”, eternal and unchanging.  Jesus is also, scripture tells us, fully human.  He ate, slept, bled, and probably had toothaches, stubbed toes and everything else that comes with life.  Not only that but he felt as we feel: he got angry, cried, laughed, admonished, and as we see here in the Gospel, grieved. Continue reading

On Funerals

People tend to think I have a sad job, and that somehow performing funerals is the worst part of my job.  The truth is that having done my share of funerals and weddings, I much prefer funerals.

First, the guests at funerals typically aren’t drunk when they arrive.

Second, the guests at funerals typically aren’t thinking of drinking during the service.  I’m sure some are, and honestly so have I, but at least it doesn’t show quite as much.

Third, people at funerals will listen to you as a minister.  I’ve performed weddings where it was clear that I was an add-on.  People give more consideration to the napkins than to the minister or the sermon when planning a wedding.  But at a funeral, people tend to listen.  People are hurt and when they’re hurt they’re open to what you have to say.  So what do you say at a funeral?

Sometimes it’s hard to write a message for a funeral, and sometimes it isn’t.  I always try to point to Jesus though.  There’s no real point in my glorifying a person at a funeral, and I’m not always comfortable even saying that this person is in heaven when I may not have known them for more than a week.

The point of the funeral message is to point to Christ.  Anything else is usually disingenuous.  Worse, you may have missed the opportunity to be an agent of grace in someone’s life.  I obviously don’t do an altar call (or casket call for that matter), but there is no better time to share God’s love than when someone is mourning.  Even the strongest Christian needs to hear God’s grace when a loved one dies, not how nice a person the deceased is.

Faith Like a Child: Reflection on Mark 10:13

Much has been said about this passage, and it’s a very interesting one.  Throughout the book of Mark, indeed throughout most of the gospels, you see that the disciples – the ones who were the closest to Jesus – don’t really get him.  They often seem perplexed as they follow Jesus around on his mission and ministry.  When Jesus calms the stormy sea in Matthew, they say “who is this that can even command the wind and waves?”  At the tomb of Lazarus, nobody even considers that Jesus could raise Lazarus from the dead and even try to prevent him from doing so.  On one occasion, Jesus’ family even came to collect him because they thought he had lost it. Continue reading

Jennifer Knapp, grace, and loving the outsider

Finally catching up on some back reading, I caught a story on Christianity Today online regarding Jennifer Knapp’s apparent coming out.  It’s a very interesting and surprisingly candid interview with Knapp, and it’s naturally creating a lot of heat (the 700+ comments are evidence alone).

One quote of hers stood out though, as poignant and universal to all of us.

“At a certain point I find myself so handcuffed in my own faith by trying to get it right—to try and look like a Christian, to try to do the things that Christians should do, to be all of these things externally—to fake it until I get myself all handcuffed and tied up in knots as to what I was supposed to be doing there in the first place.”

This speaks beyond the homosexuality debate to something that we all struggle with.   We try and do more, to give more, to show up more, read more, pray more, lead more, to work harder and harder.  We try and read the right books and watch the right movies and TV and the right music.

And we have not given grace to ourselves or anybody else.

If we can’t get grace right, how can we get anywhere as Christians?

Also, it struck me that Knapp saw herself as both inside and outside of Christianity.  I know many people who have felt the same way.  They honestly want to follow Christ, but for one reason or another don’t feel welcome in the sanctuary.  I’ve had patients tell me that I’m the only pastor they have.  I’ve had others say that I see them more than their own minister does.   It’s humbling, inspiring and saddening all at the same time for me when someone tells me this.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve been on the outside as well that I feel a bit more sensitive to those in exile, even if it is a self-imposed one.  Those moments of connection, few as they are, keep me going

Clergy Lack End-of-Life Education

A 2004 article in Heath Progress noted the lack of education regarding death and dying.  Ira Byock, one of the co-authors, is a leader in promoting hospice care and has written one of the better books on the subject, Dying Well.  Both resources are highly recommended for any clergy looking to further their knowledge of hospice nd end-of-life issues.

Is this peep kosher?

Today began with an intriguing theological discussion, inspired by the attendance of our Jewish medical director at a quality improvement committee meeting, on whether or not marshmallow peeps are kosher.

It was apparent from the package that the peeps currently in our possession were not, but we couldn’t figure out why.  We figured out that it probably had to do with the gelatin in the peeps probably coming from some sort of random hoofed animal.  But then we hadn’t determined if the peeps were butchered in a kosher shop either.

A little further investigation determined that Jelly Belly jelly beans are kosher, as are some chocolate bunnies.  I also discovered an awesome story of kosher Passover chocolates depicting  each of the ten plagues.

Viva la entrepreneur!