Saturday there was another funeral. Although it was a member of my church, the family had a colleague from another parish do the funeral at a local funeral home. It was all rather strangely handled, but at the end of day I can't really go against the family's wishes. Still, I was invited to preach, at least. The service only lasted 20 minutes (the family didn't want any hymns or tributes/eulogies)--and liturgically was the diametric opposite of the funeral service we did for Daphne the week before.
It's quite remarkable to reflect on how varied funeral liturgies can be. They are probably the most contingent of all the liturgies we do regularly in church. Contingent on the family, contingent on the timing, contingent of the presider, contingent even on the weather! So much of what we do around death betrays our cultural location.
It was a pleasant enough funeral and the turnout from Church of The Messiah was strong. It was fine. My colleague was professional and polished, as was the funeral home staff (mostly).
I say mostly because of this odd thing that happened... After the reception Betsy and Henry and were poking around the showroom at the funeral home. We were looking at the caskets (yes, death is expensive) and the urns. Some of these are so cheesy I swear they are there as a kind of negative example to swing people towards a moderate, rather than budget, priced item. Anyway, we were poking around in there for a minute and one of the funeral directors walked in. "And who is this?" he asked looking at Henry.
"This is Henry," I said.
"Henry! Does Henry want to be a funeral director someday? Henry, do you want to see the basement? We have an operating room down there. But it's not very pretty, it's kind of old and yucky, actually...."
Betsy and I agreed, in the car, that this guy was just creepy. I had heard before that the "operating room" at this particular funeral home is a positively medieval affair that hasn't been modernized since the 1950's. Morgues and places like that are frankly creepier in person than they are in the movies and TV, and old ones are triply so.
Sidebar. Morgue sets are expensive to build, so a lot of the police shows you see on TV actually shoot those scenes in real morgues. Also, the morgues in the hospitals I've worked at aren't marked "morgue." Instead they usually have some innocuous title on the door like "Storage" or "Room B204." You could write an interesting paper about how the hospital architecture denies death.
Sidebar #2. Here is a counter example, however. At Yale-New Haven Hospital we also a "Bereavement Room" near the ER. When someone died up in the regular hospital rooms we would do viewings with the families up there, but if someone died in the ER we would move them to this room. The Emergency Department is a busy place with little privacy, and the hospital administrators would just as soon turn around the beds as fast as possible, anyway, and a proper viewing can take an hour or two. So YNHH had a special room where we could put the deceased and their families. It was great, we loved it. They something similar in Newborn ICU. This an example of a hospital really understanding how to handle death in a healthy way.
Anyway, that was the second Messiah funeral in as many weeks. I've told some of my leaders that I think we should have some notes set aside for each of our older members, just in case. We should have a list of whom to call, for instance.
After the funeral I visited a Messiah kid who is in the hospital. I found it more difficult than I usually do. Hard to see a kid in the hospital. My mind wanted to picture what I would do if Henry was in that bed. Ah, "Transference!" learning to deal with transference is a critical skill in pastoral care. Anyway, it was a good visit.
On Sunday I was struggling a bit. I was just off my game and making all kinds of mistakes. For example, I failed to remember or notice that this is the one Sunday a month when we do Anointing for healing during Communion. The Chancel Guild hadn't noticed, either. So I had just starting giving communion to the choir and when I got to Betsy she whispered, "Anointing?"
I briefly considered in my mind whether I should perhaps skip it this Sunday. Then I thought about all the people hurting in our community right now, including me, and decided to make it work. So I signaled to a priest who attends my church. He came up and took over giving communion like a pro. Meanwhile, I went to my office to grab my anointing oil (I had taken it with me to the hospital the day before). Back in the sanctuary, I went to a side area and began anointing people as they came up and knelt. More than usual. When it seemed that they were finished, and my two theological students were just doing the ablutions (cleaning up the dishes after the Eucharist), I signaled one of them to come over. "Have you ever anointed anybody?"
"No?" she replied as I kneeled in front of her.
"Ok, I'll be your first. Just makes the sign of the cross on my forehead with the oil and pray." Then I tried to remember the formula that I use for anointings. The formula I had just said about 15 times without hesitation, and it was gone. Just not in my head. Wow, I thought, I really am hanging out on the ragged edge. "Ok, I can't remember it. Just make something up." My student laughed. She then prayed over me just fine.
I needed it. I was struggling. What a weekend.
Today I did some Christmas shopping and some other errands. Made a stew for dinner. Also made a batch of Fish House Punch and did some Christmas decorating. Henry had to come home from Daycare early because of a fever, so Betsy and spent much of the evening caring for him. It's probably just a little cold.
Tomorrow it starts again!
-t
Showing posts with label pastoral care. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pastoral care. Show all posts
Monday, December 13, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Days Off
One of the critical skills in pastoral ministry is figuring out how to deal with unlimited expectations, unmeasurable outcomes, and finite resources. The demands of ministry are simply bottomless, and the job will take as many hours and as much energy as you are willing to give it. Indeed, I have met plenty of martyrs to parish ministry that burned themselves out doing what they thought they were expected to do.
This is as big a problem for paid, ordained ministry as it is for unpaid volunteers. One of my parishioners is fond of saying that the nicely lettered wall listing past Wardens is a record of burnout. I would say that the list is is a stark rebuke to the whole parish--a sign of our failure as a community to nourish leadership. Harsh, I know, but I don't how else to interpret the pattern of leaders leaving. Of course, none of my former wardens have left the parish, but it is telling that the NCD survey revealed a low score on the question labeled "Our leaders are a spiritual example to me." We have work to do.
Mondays are my day off. Saturdays are a half-day, and every other day is basically a full-day. But lately (the past several days) I have spent a significant amount of time on Mondays doing church work. Usually it's doing the kind of projects and errands on behalf of the church that might be considered extra credit. The problem, though, is that it's on the margins of "extra-credit" where excellence lies. In other words, the difference between putting in four hours of bonus hours on a Monday and not putting into those four hours could very well be a tipping point for the parish. It means having a well-organized maintenance closet or sending people birthday and anniversary cards or reviewing a grant application written by one of my staff.
I find the work I do incredibly rewarding and invigorating. The other day I was meeting with someone who knows little of church culture. He asked me what I enjoy about my work and I told him about the sheer diversity of it. One minute I'm doing one-on-one pastoral care with someone in serious emotional distress. The next I'm rewiring a light switch or cleaning out a closet that hasn't been emptied in ten years. Sometimes I'm writing my column for "The Anglican" and other times I'm teaching a student how to walk in liturgy. Yeah, I spent fifteen or twenty minutes the other day teaching someone how to walk. I write sermons. I pick up trash. I pray the Office and practice chanting psalms. I make coffee (always adding a pinch of salt) and talk to the restaurant owner across the street about vandalism in the neighbourhood. I coach my staff on how to work with volunteers and I plan complex liturgies. It's a fascinating job that requires constantly mastering new skills.
Therein lies the problem--a seductive vocation promises personal fulfillment. It promises increased self-worth and the satisfaction of building something with superior craft. But like all idols, the "uber-pastor" idol demands sacrifice. Time spent in the evenings and mornings checking email or (yes) blogging often means leaving Betsy to feed or take care of Henry.
Work is important, sure, but how important is it? Hard to gauge. It's always a judgment call. For example, imagine it's 7 pm and I'm feeding Henry and my phone rings. It's a parishioner. Do I answer, or do I let it go to voice mail? Honestly, often when I answer it turns out to be less than an emergency, other times, it is! But I can't tell the difference by the caller-ID. So, in truth my willingness to answer the phone at night is an intuitive, snap-decision based mostly on my own sense of exhaustion. Honestly, if I'm tired and I've had a drink or two and it's late I'm far less likely to answer that late-night call. Can that be okay? I know people that think that you should be ready to be a priest at all times. You should be ready to take that call and "be there" for your people no matter what. But as I mature in ministry I have come to question that uber-pastor myth.
When I was young in ministry I fantasized about having a "go-bag" with prayer book, stole, and anointing oil by the door and another in my car. Nine months of being a hospital chaplain cured me of that particular fantasy right-quick! Sure, you can be prepared for your first emergency, and maybe your second. But when your beeper goes off the third or fifth or seventh time in an on-call period, you quickly realize that God's grace isn't about you and your pitiful attempts to "be ready." If you are going to be an effective conduit of God's grace, it ain't gonna be because you had a pretty kit. Either you are the sort of person that can help someone cry at 3 a.m. with their dead mother, or you can learn to be, or you can't: those are your three choices. However, nothing you can imagine will prepare you for the challenges of pastoral ministry. Trust me. You cannot anticipate the stuff that is going to come at you.
Consider this scenario... a priest I knew was called at 8.20 P.M. because one of his parishioners died. It was one of his Wardens that called him and asked him to visit the widow. The man that died (and his wife) were pillars of the church. The priest said he couldn't go. Why? Because, he said, he had been drinking. Harsh. Imagine having to tell someone that. "I can't take care of this person because I've been drinking." Yet many professions have exactly that danger. I'm sure most doctors and lawyers, for example, could tell a story like that. When I heard this story, before I knew what the ministry was really about, I had a hard time not being judgmental. I think I said something like, "Well, put on a pot of coffee and tell them you'll be there in an hour!" Now I'm wiser. I see that sometimes "no" is a good answer. Harsh. But if you don't bend you are gonna break.
Self-giving in ministry (and I do mean "ministry" broadly) is more complex than the extremes of enthusiasm would suggest. Give everything of yourself away and the demons will eat you for breakfast. Give nothing and you are like the walking dead, floating along and changing nothing. And most of us Christians answer in the ambiguous middle.
I know, this all seems pretty obvious. But this razor thin margin--between working a couple of hours on Monday or not--is where transformation happens. Something about that decision is a fractal that describes your relationship with God, the world, and yourself. It's a microcosm. And it's not an obvious choice. Sometimes, it's Godly to put in those extra hours. Sometimes it's not!
And that's what I'm thinking about as I think about what I'm going to do tomorrow.
Footnote--I've noticed that my parishioners are stepping up their commitment to the church to match mine. The head of my chancel guild snatched my alb away with a zeal for washing it that made me realize that something quite important had happened. Sweet!
-t
This is as big a problem for paid, ordained ministry as it is for unpaid volunteers. One of my parishioners is fond of saying that the nicely lettered wall listing past Wardens is a record of burnout. I would say that the list is is a stark rebuke to the whole parish--a sign of our failure as a community to nourish leadership. Harsh, I know, but I don't how else to interpret the pattern of leaders leaving. Of course, none of my former wardens have left the parish, but it is telling that the NCD survey revealed a low score on the question labeled "Our leaders are a spiritual example to me." We have work to do.
Mondays are my day off. Saturdays are a half-day, and every other day is basically a full-day. But lately (the past several days) I have spent a significant amount of time on Mondays doing church work. Usually it's doing the kind of projects and errands on behalf of the church that might be considered extra credit. The problem, though, is that it's on the margins of "extra-credit" where excellence lies. In other words, the difference between putting in four hours of bonus hours on a Monday and not putting into those four hours could very well be a tipping point for the parish. It means having a well-organized maintenance closet or sending people birthday and anniversary cards or reviewing a grant application written by one of my staff.
I find the work I do incredibly rewarding and invigorating. The other day I was meeting with someone who knows little of church culture. He asked me what I enjoy about my work and I told him about the sheer diversity of it. One minute I'm doing one-on-one pastoral care with someone in serious emotional distress. The next I'm rewiring a light switch or cleaning out a closet that hasn't been emptied in ten years. Sometimes I'm writing my column for "The Anglican" and other times I'm teaching a student how to walk in liturgy. Yeah, I spent fifteen or twenty minutes the other day teaching someone how to walk. I write sermons. I pick up trash. I pray the Office and practice chanting psalms. I make coffee (always adding a pinch of salt) and talk to the restaurant owner across the street about vandalism in the neighbourhood. I coach my staff on how to work with volunteers and I plan complex liturgies. It's a fascinating job that requires constantly mastering new skills.
Therein lies the problem--a seductive vocation promises personal fulfillment. It promises increased self-worth and the satisfaction of building something with superior craft. But like all idols, the "uber-pastor" idol demands sacrifice. Time spent in the evenings and mornings checking email or (yes) blogging often means leaving Betsy to feed or take care of Henry.
Work is important, sure, but how important is it? Hard to gauge. It's always a judgment call. For example, imagine it's 7 pm and I'm feeding Henry and my phone rings. It's a parishioner. Do I answer, or do I let it go to voice mail? Honestly, often when I answer it turns out to be less than an emergency, other times, it is! But I can't tell the difference by the caller-ID. So, in truth my willingness to answer the phone at night is an intuitive, snap-decision based mostly on my own sense of exhaustion. Honestly, if I'm tired and I've had a drink or two and it's late I'm far less likely to answer that late-night call. Can that be okay? I know people that think that you should be ready to be a priest at all times. You should be ready to take that call and "be there" for your people no matter what. But as I mature in ministry I have come to question that uber-pastor myth.
When I was young in ministry I fantasized about having a "go-bag" with prayer book, stole, and anointing oil by the door and another in my car. Nine months of being a hospital chaplain cured me of that particular fantasy right-quick! Sure, you can be prepared for your first emergency, and maybe your second. But when your beeper goes off the third or fifth or seventh time in an on-call period, you quickly realize that God's grace isn't about you and your pitiful attempts to "be ready." If you are going to be an effective conduit of God's grace, it ain't gonna be because you had a pretty kit. Either you are the sort of person that can help someone cry at 3 a.m. with their dead mother, or you can learn to be, or you can't: those are your three choices. However, nothing you can imagine will prepare you for the challenges of pastoral ministry. Trust me. You cannot anticipate the stuff that is going to come at you.
Consider this scenario... a priest I knew was called at 8.20 P.M. because one of his parishioners died. It was one of his Wardens that called him and asked him to visit the widow. The man that died (and his wife) were pillars of the church. The priest said he couldn't go. Why? Because, he said, he had been drinking. Harsh. Imagine having to tell someone that. "I can't take care of this person because I've been drinking." Yet many professions have exactly that danger. I'm sure most doctors and lawyers, for example, could tell a story like that. When I heard this story, before I knew what the ministry was really about, I had a hard time not being judgmental. I think I said something like, "Well, put on a pot of coffee and tell them you'll be there in an hour!" Now I'm wiser. I see that sometimes "no" is a good answer. Harsh. But if you don't bend you are gonna break.
Self-giving in ministry (and I do mean "ministry" broadly) is more complex than the extremes of enthusiasm would suggest. Give everything of yourself away and the demons will eat you for breakfast. Give nothing and you are like the walking dead, floating along and changing nothing. And most of us Christians answer in the ambiguous middle.
I know, this all seems pretty obvious. But this razor thin margin--between working a couple of hours on Monday or not--is where transformation happens. Something about that decision is a fractal that describes your relationship with God, the world, and yourself. It's a microcosm. And it's not an obvious choice. Sometimes, it's Godly to put in those extra hours. Sometimes it's not!
And that's what I'm thinking about as I think about what I'm going to do tomorrow.
Footnote--I've noticed that my parishioners are stepping up their commitment to the church to match mine. The head of my chancel guild snatched my alb away with a zeal for washing it that made me realize that something quite important had happened. Sweet!
-t
Saturday, October 23, 2010
A Few Breakthroughs
I mentioned previously that I spent three days at the SSJD Convent Receiving the Appreciative Inquiry Training offered by the Clergy Leadership Institute. The instructor was Rev. Dr. Rob Voyle. Rob is psychologist with a great deal of clinical experience, as well an executive coach and even a former Cathedral Dean. He is an interesting guy whose life purpose is to be "Helpful, healing, and humorous."
Registration was limited to be about 25 people, and mostly that was composed of Senior Diocesan Leadership plus a dozen or so parish priests like myself. That made for an interesting dynamic, as when I was paired with Bishop Yu to do an interview designed to discover the deepest, most compelling personal motivations of the subject!
The "Appreciative Inquiry" framework has a lot to offer, and I've already had two opportunities to apply it. Last night I hosted a Stewardship Committee meeting in my home. We are prepared our fall Stewardship Campaign and are facing a substantial deficit as we do so. Raising the giving in the parish by about 30% would fix it and get us back to a balanced budget, but raising giving by that kind of level is going to take some real excellent leadership from everyone involved in the campaign.
So I started the meeting by asking people to go around the room and tell us about something they really, really enjoy doing. When they finished sharing, I explained that this was an easy way to get toward an understanding of people's core values and passions. Knowing that makes moving forward on a group project far easier because it means you can put the builders in charge of building and the deal makers in charge of deal making, etc. The meeting went on and accomplished many things, though not without a few moments that really challenged my skillfulness as a small-group leader. As they left, people said they felt encouraged and enthusiastic about the work ahead, which is great sign.
The second application of Appreciative Inquiry techniques happened in a one-on-one pastoral care situation. Obviously, I can't share much about that, but I will say I was able to resolve a long-standing stuck-ness that had defied several other interventions. One of the things I noticed right away was a large degree of consonance between the method I was employing and the parishioner's therapeutic instincts. In other words, it felt like the right approach to both of us. The energy of the whole dynamic shifted noticeably and I'm really happy about that.
So, there you have it, my endorsement of Appreciative Inquiry. It works, simple as that.
-t
Registration was limited to be about 25 people, and mostly that was composed of Senior Diocesan Leadership plus a dozen or so parish priests like myself. That made for an interesting dynamic, as when I was paired with Bishop Yu to do an interview designed to discover the deepest, most compelling personal motivations of the subject!
The "Appreciative Inquiry" framework has a lot to offer, and I've already had two opportunities to apply it. Last night I hosted a Stewardship Committee meeting in my home. We are prepared our fall Stewardship Campaign and are facing a substantial deficit as we do so. Raising the giving in the parish by about 30% would fix it and get us back to a balanced budget, but raising giving by that kind of level is going to take some real excellent leadership from everyone involved in the campaign.
So I started the meeting by asking people to go around the room and tell us about something they really, really enjoy doing. When they finished sharing, I explained that this was an easy way to get toward an understanding of people's core values and passions. Knowing that makes moving forward on a group project far easier because it means you can put the builders in charge of building and the deal makers in charge of deal making, etc. The meeting went on and accomplished many things, though not without a few moments that really challenged my skillfulness as a small-group leader. As they left, people said they felt encouraged and enthusiastic about the work ahead, which is great sign.
The second application of Appreciative Inquiry techniques happened in a one-on-one pastoral care situation. Obviously, I can't share much about that, but I will say I was able to resolve a long-standing stuck-ness that had defied several other interventions. One of the things I noticed right away was a large degree of consonance between the method I was employing and the parishioner's therapeutic instincts. In other words, it felt like the right approach to both of us. The energy of the whole dynamic shifted noticeably and I'm really happy about that.
So, there you have it, my endorsement of Appreciative Inquiry. It works, simple as that.
-t
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Living Together Before Marriage--not such a good idea?
The conventional wisdom, especially among younger adults, is that couples should live together for a time before getting married. The assumption, I believe, is that people assume that by living together a couple and test out their relationship. If it survives a few years of living together, than maybe it is worthy of a lifetime commitment.
This sounds reasonable, but the data doesn't support it. The NYT reports that a new study by the National Center for Health Statistics found that adults who live together before getting married about six percent more likely to get divorced within 10 years. Meanwhile, the number of couples who go this round has doubled in the past 15 years. Approximately 61% of women in the late 30's have lived with a sexual partner.
However, couple that were engaged before they started living together are actually more likely to stay together than the average. Other things that increase the likelihood of staying together: marrying after age 26 and having a child 8 months or later into the marriage.
I remember when I was getting ready to be married my therapist, Mary Gates, told me that the mistake couples usually make is to assume that being married is like living together. Actually, she told me, marriage is a whole 'nother beast. Marriage means taking a relationship beyond being about two individuals and brings in the entire clans. "You invite everyone into your bedroom," she said. The living and the dead.
And it's true, in my pastoral and personal experience, that marriage pulls the couple into much larger narratives and dynamics. Often they are simply unprepared for the change that marriage brings. I don't think that this is an issue for engaged couples because they already are living into marriage, and therefore never settle into a pattern of unmarried bliss.
This reforces my conviction that when I'm doing pre-marital counselling of couples that live together I need to talk quite a bit about how things change after marriage.
-t
This sounds reasonable, but the data doesn't support it. The NYT reports that a new study by the National Center for Health Statistics found that adults who live together before getting married about six percent more likely to get divorced within 10 years. Meanwhile, the number of couples who go this round has doubled in the past 15 years. Approximately 61% of women in the late 30's have lived with a sexual partner.
However, couple that were engaged before they started living together are actually more likely to stay together than the average. Other things that increase the likelihood of staying together: marrying after age 26 and having a child 8 months or later into the marriage.
I remember when I was getting ready to be married my therapist, Mary Gates, told me that the mistake couples usually make is to assume that being married is like living together. Actually, she told me, marriage is a whole 'nother beast. Marriage means taking a relationship beyond being about two individuals and brings in the entire clans. "You invite everyone into your bedroom," she said. The living and the dead.
And it's true, in my pastoral and personal experience, that marriage pulls the couple into much larger narratives and dynamics. Often they are simply unprepared for the change that marriage brings. I don't think that this is an issue for engaged couples because they already are living into marriage, and therefore never settle into a pattern of unmarried bliss.
This reforces my conviction that when I'm doing pre-marital counselling of couples that live together I need to talk quite a bit about how things change after marriage.
-t
Saturday, February 6, 2010
A Good Day for Prayer
Today was a good day for prayer. It started off with the usual Saturday morning brunch date with Betsy. We went to a new place for us--Ezra's Pound. It's a coffee shop in our neighbourhood (on Dupont, next to the LCBO). Betsy strapped the BabyBjörn onto me--and then put Henry into it. I must admit, I've been slightly suspicious of the BabyBjörn, preferring the simplicity and closeness of the sling. But the nice thing about the BabyBjörn is that Henry can face outwards at the world. And these days he likes to see what's going on when he's awake. As we walked down the street I found that the BabyBjörn worked well. Comfortable for both father and son.
At Ezra's Pound I realized that I really like coffee shops and should spend more time at places like this. The coffee was excellent--far better than Starbucks. And I appreciated that all the food items were homemade. The strawberry jam was excellent, and so was the bread that came with it. The people that run that place choose to do a few things with excellence rather than fill the menu board with resold Aramark crap. I would recommend this place to any foodies out there! Looking around, I couldn't help thinking about what kind of ministry partnerships it might be possible to create.
After walking Henry and Betsy home, I went to the church for the usual Saturday block of services. I admit that I set up the Contemplative Eucharist feeling a little discouraged about it. I was thinking that I may need to cancel it if I don't start getting more people. I resolved to keep it going until Easter and then shut it down if I haven't attracted a regular congregation. Then I said some prayers that God might send me some new people to that service.
Wouldn't you know... two new people showed up! That made for four of us. I was pleased as punch. I know, some of my colleagues might scoff at a mere 2 new people. But for churches like mine that is precious fruit! We had a wonderful Eucharist and some interesting conversation afterwards. Sweet. The two new folks decided to stay for the Healing Prayer service, as well.
After that I did a session of pastoral counselling. We both decided we needed a little break from the depth work we've been doing, so we spent most of the session reading Psalm 119 together. I noticed as I was reading the odd number verses that each verse seemed to carry a lot of meaning for me. Sometimes the Psalms just resonate, you know? I found myself wishing that I was chanting them rather than just reading them. I thought about times that I've read through the entire psalter in one sitting as a devotional exercise. The last time was probably the all-night vigil I kept before my ordination. I should do that again, sometime.
After the Psalm we prayed together, and I found that it was easy today to be very present to the spirit of prayer. I'm often called on to pray for people and the degree to which I am "into it" can vary depending on many things. But today I was right into it. Saying the psalm and having the Contemplative Eucharist earlier in the day probably helped.
Prayer is mysterious like that. Sometimes it can come so easily and with such power and beauty. Other times it can seem dry. Today someone told me about how Thomas Keating said that scripture sometimes tastes "like straw." I knew what he meant immediately. It's like when a monk says he goes to the Offices "because the bell rings." There is an emptiness there in the discipline of spiritual practice which one encounters in the spiritually-engaged life. It's a good thing. It's the novice that prays or reads scripture because it is rewarding or edifying. It takes a real friend of God to show up when it ain't so fun!
Me, I'm happy to survive on occasional "consolations of the spirit" like today. I can survive just fine on the "memory of Divine Favour" (as St. Bernard puts it). Other people have a different spiritual temperament, naturally, I'm just speaking for myself.
This reminds me of my absolute favourite story from the Desert Fathers and Mothers:
Thinking on these things makes me miss Mary Gates. She was my therapist back in Connecticut. She was also a priest and had been a student of Thomas Keating once upon a time. Mary would sit on her rocking chair. I would lie down on the couch and stare out into her big garden through the plate glass window. Mary is a wise woman.
I think Mary would shrug if I told her about this. "What did you expect prayer to be like?" she might quip. Just so.
-t
At Ezra's Pound I realized that I really like coffee shops and should spend more time at places like this. The coffee was excellent--far better than Starbucks. And I appreciated that all the food items were homemade. The strawberry jam was excellent, and so was the bread that came with it. The people that run that place choose to do a few things with excellence rather than fill the menu board with resold Aramark crap. I would recommend this place to any foodies out there! Looking around, I couldn't help thinking about what kind of ministry partnerships it might be possible to create.
After walking Henry and Betsy home, I went to the church for the usual Saturday block of services. I admit that I set up the Contemplative Eucharist feeling a little discouraged about it. I was thinking that I may need to cancel it if I don't start getting more people. I resolved to keep it going until Easter and then shut it down if I haven't attracted a regular congregation. Then I said some prayers that God might send me some new people to that service.
Wouldn't you know... two new people showed up! That made for four of us. I was pleased as punch. I know, some of my colleagues might scoff at a mere 2 new people. But for churches like mine that is precious fruit! We had a wonderful Eucharist and some interesting conversation afterwards. Sweet. The two new folks decided to stay for the Healing Prayer service, as well.
After that I did a session of pastoral counselling. We both decided we needed a little break from the depth work we've been doing, so we spent most of the session reading Psalm 119 together. I noticed as I was reading the odd number verses that each verse seemed to carry a lot of meaning for me. Sometimes the Psalms just resonate, you know? I found myself wishing that I was chanting them rather than just reading them. I thought about times that I've read through the entire psalter in one sitting as a devotional exercise. The last time was probably the all-night vigil I kept before my ordination. I should do that again, sometime.
After the Psalm we prayed together, and I found that it was easy today to be very present to the spirit of prayer. I'm often called on to pray for people and the degree to which I am "into it" can vary depending on many things. But today I was right into it. Saying the psalm and having the Contemplative Eucharist earlier in the day probably helped.
Prayer is mysterious like that. Sometimes it can come so easily and with such power and beauty. Other times it can seem dry. Today someone told me about how Thomas Keating said that scripture sometimes tastes "like straw." I knew what he meant immediately. It's like when a monk says he goes to the Offices "because the bell rings." There is an emptiness there in the discipline of spiritual practice which one encounters in the spiritually-engaged life. It's a good thing. It's the novice that prays or reads scripture because it is rewarding or edifying. It takes a real friend of God to show up when it ain't so fun!
Me, I'm happy to survive on occasional "consolations of the spirit" like today. I can survive just fine on the "memory of Divine Favour" (as St. Bernard puts it). Other people have a different spiritual temperament, naturally, I'm just speaking for myself.This reminds me of my absolute favourite story from the Desert Fathers and Mothers:
Abba Lot went to see Abba Joseph and he said to him, "Abba, as far as I can, I say my little office, I fast a little, I pray and meditate, I live in peace and as far as I can I purify my thoughts. What else can I do?" Then the old man stood up and stretched his hands toward heaven; his fingers became like ten lamps of fire and he said to him, "If you will, you can become all flame."
Thinking on these things makes me miss Mary Gates. She was my therapist back in Connecticut. She was also a priest and had been a student of Thomas Keating once upon a time. Mary would sit on her rocking chair. I would lie down on the couch and stare out into her big garden through the plate glass window. Mary is a wise woman.
I think Mary would shrug if I told her about this. "What did you expect prayer to be like?" she might quip. Just so.
-t
Saturday, December 5, 2009
The "Crazy" Season
Advent, the period leading up to Christmas, has a way of bringing out the crazy in people. In the past few weeks a number of situations in church-land and beyond have seemed to escalate in intensity and anxiety. Several people that I counsel or have pastoral charge of seem to be having a harder time than normal, and I really think it's because of the added pressure of this season. Between the holiday parties and gifts and church events and services, things are getting more crazy in every way.
For example.... A few days ago I was assaulted by a mentally ill person known to our community. I don't want to share too much on this for legal reasons, but it is something much on my mind, obviously. I got punched in the stomach while standing in the doorway to the church by someone because they thought, in their delusional state, that this was a good idea. I was actually talking to 911 at the time, and the police did come and arrest this person for assault. Luckily, my ample ninja-priest tummy has a near-magical ability to absorb punches, so I'm absolutely fine. The person that hit me was not very strong. The last (and only other) time I was assaulted was in Los Angeles when I did social work, and I could write a whole set of "lessons learned" from both occurrences.
So... the precautions we take at the church to lock doors and install video cameras may seem excessive for some, but then something like this happens and we all realize that due vigilance is required, especially for those of us in urban ministry. As this story has gotten out, a LOT of my colleagues have shared similar incidents. One guy I know was chased out of St. Thomas' by a mentally disturbed person. It can happen to any of us, at any time.
The police are handling it and I suspect this person will be re-institutionalized, which is the best thing for it. I just wish that we had a better way to help the severely mentally ill than the criminal justice system. It's a shame that we've criminalized mental illness.
What concerns me now, however, is the way that this "craziness" fits a December pattern. I know a lot of other people that find this time of year very, very difficult. I, myself, find it difficult to maintain a positive attitude when I worry about the church deficit or certain parishioners that are having a hard time coping right now.
And yet there is a lot to be positive about. We recently had five new people join the church. Next week I'm going to expand the Contemplative Eucharists to Saturdays. The Women's Bible Study is flourishing. I'm thinking of starting some kind of house church event. I think most people in the parish are extremely happy with the way ministry is happening here. So why is my soul troubled?
I've wondered whether this is displaced anxiety from my coming fatherhood. Yet I was similarly anxious last December, so maybe not. And when I think of the baby I'm mostly excited. I get a lot of prayer and meditation these days, but what I experience are strong feelings of concern and love that ache with something close to nostalgia or regret, not joy and elation (as I have felt at other times). All I have to do is attend to my feelings at the Contemplative Eucharist on Wednesdays or the Healing Prayer service on Saturdays and there IT is--that feeling of December anxiousness.
The Advent Prose (Rorate Coeli) resonate remarkably well with it. We've been singing a modern English translation in place of the Gloria/Kyrie on Sundays. It's a searching, longing melody that just aches with desire for the fulfilment of God's Advent promise. "Pour down, O heavens, from above, and let the skies rain down righteousness." It's a haunting musical/liturgical meditation on the hope of the prophets. Perfect for the crazy season upon us.
-t
For example.... A few days ago I was assaulted by a mentally ill person known to our community. I don't want to share too much on this for legal reasons, but it is something much on my mind, obviously. I got punched in the stomach while standing in the doorway to the church by someone because they thought, in their delusional state, that this was a good idea. I was actually talking to 911 at the time, and the police did come and arrest this person for assault. Luckily, my ample ninja-priest tummy has a near-magical ability to absorb punches, so I'm absolutely fine. The person that hit me was not very strong. The last (and only other) time I was assaulted was in Los Angeles when I did social work, and I could write a whole set of "lessons learned" from both occurrences.
So... the precautions we take at the church to lock doors and install video cameras may seem excessive for some, but then something like this happens and we all realize that due vigilance is required, especially for those of us in urban ministry. As this story has gotten out, a LOT of my colleagues have shared similar incidents. One guy I know was chased out of St. Thomas' by a mentally disturbed person. It can happen to any of us, at any time.
The police are handling it and I suspect this person will be re-institutionalized, which is the best thing for it. I just wish that we had a better way to help the severely mentally ill than the criminal justice system. It's a shame that we've criminalized mental illness.
What concerns me now, however, is the way that this "craziness" fits a December pattern. I know a lot of other people that find this time of year very, very difficult. I, myself, find it difficult to maintain a positive attitude when I worry about the church deficit or certain parishioners that are having a hard time coping right now.
And yet there is a lot to be positive about. We recently had five new people join the church. Next week I'm going to expand the Contemplative Eucharists to Saturdays. The Women's Bible Study is flourishing. I'm thinking of starting some kind of house church event. I think most people in the parish are extremely happy with the way ministry is happening here. So why is my soul troubled?
I've wondered whether this is displaced anxiety from my coming fatherhood. Yet I was similarly anxious last December, so maybe not. And when I think of the baby I'm mostly excited. I get a lot of prayer and meditation these days, but what I experience are strong feelings of concern and love that ache with something close to nostalgia or regret, not joy and elation (as I have felt at other times). All I have to do is attend to my feelings at the Contemplative Eucharist on Wednesdays or the Healing Prayer service on Saturdays and there IT is--that feeling of December anxiousness.
The Advent Prose (Rorate Coeli) resonate remarkably well with it. We've been singing a modern English translation in place of the Gloria/Kyrie on Sundays. It's a searching, longing melody that just aches with desire for the fulfilment of God's Advent promise. "Pour down, O heavens, from above, and let the skies rain down righteousness." It's a haunting musical/liturgical meditation on the hope of the prophets. Perfect for the crazy season upon us.
-t
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Some Reflections on Pastoral Care
Yesterday was brutal: Mass, preaching, lunch with parishioners and then 4.5 hours worth of pastoral counselling! It's a strange phenomenon, but the demands on my pastoral care giving definitely clusters. I'll go weeks and weeks without much more than dealing with the normal low-level stuff and then, BANG, I'll have several unrelated situations pop up at once. Why yesterday? I have no idea. Some were people I know, others were more random. Some were situations I knew I would be dealing with, but most were not. So a few observations from a long day giving this kind of support:
What you (the Counsellor) need, you will be given
I really wondered a couple of times whether I would have the energy toward the end of the day to be useful in my role as a Pastor, but each time I sat down with someone I found myself becoming energized by the engagement. Once you start listening to the story, you find you have all the energy you need.
I also find, in my experience, that it's pretty useless to spend much energy before hand trying to prepare a response. "The answer is always in the client," I remember one of my mentors in Social Work telling me. And it's true! When I listen to someone in need I usually have no trouble at all realizing what to do and say in that moment. It's not magic, just a lot of experience, training, and prayer.
There is a special relationship between the Pastor's Prayers and Pastoral Care
I find that my personal devotions and prayers have taken on a very different quality since I become directly involved in ministry. It's not just that I have specific people and situations to pray about, but that somehow the pastoral relationship (me to parishioner) changes the priestly relationship (me to God). Hard to describe--but I just know that the more engaged I am in any particular season of my ministry with people in need the more I find my prayer life feeling very different.
One difference is that I'm often very aware of God's presence in counselling situations. I can feel it. Moreover, I sometimes feel as though I'm intuiting how I can cooperate with that grace. I'm not saying that's always the case--but often I feel very clear in my own self about God's presence and affection and how I should be incarnating that.
It's a wonderful confirmation of vocation (which we all need from time-to-time) to be sitting a chair listening and talking and praying and just know, deep in your bones, that you are doing exactly what God wants you to be doing. This is all the more striking when I note that the person I'm counselling doesn't necessarily see it that way! Love can be gentle, but love can be pretty sharp sometimes, too.
I'm not trying to say I'm any kind of master counsellor or anything, just that I really like the way God is shaping me through this ministry. I haven't spoken this deeply about pastoral care with any of my colleagues recently, but I suspect many of them may have similar feelings.
-t
What you (the Counsellor) need, you will be given
I really wondered a couple of times whether I would have the energy toward the end of the day to be useful in my role as a Pastor, but each time I sat down with someone I found myself becoming energized by the engagement. Once you start listening to the story, you find you have all the energy you need.
I also find, in my experience, that it's pretty useless to spend much energy before hand trying to prepare a response. "The answer is always in the client," I remember one of my mentors in Social Work telling me. And it's true! When I listen to someone in need I usually have no trouble at all realizing what to do and say in that moment. It's not magic, just a lot of experience, training, and prayer.
There is a special relationship between the Pastor's Prayers and Pastoral Care
I find that my personal devotions and prayers have taken on a very different quality since I become directly involved in ministry. It's not just that I have specific people and situations to pray about, but that somehow the pastoral relationship (me to parishioner) changes the priestly relationship (me to God). Hard to describe--but I just know that the more engaged I am in any particular season of my ministry with people in need the more I find my prayer life feeling very different.
One difference is that I'm often very aware of God's presence in counselling situations. I can feel it. Moreover, I sometimes feel as though I'm intuiting how I can cooperate with that grace. I'm not saying that's always the case--but often I feel very clear in my own self about God's presence and affection and how I should be incarnating that.
It's a wonderful confirmation of vocation (which we all need from time-to-time) to be sitting a chair listening and talking and praying and just know, deep in your bones, that you are doing exactly what God wants you to be doing. This is all the more striking when I note that the person I'm counselling doesn't necessarily see it that way! Love can be gentle, but love can be pretty sharp sometimes, too.
I'm not trying to say I'm any kind of master counsellor or anything, just that I really like the way God is shaping me through this ministry. I haven't spoken this deeply about pastoral care with any of my colleagues recently, but I suspect many of them may have similar feelings.
-t
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Death of a Theologian
David Brooks of the NYTimes has a meditation on the recent death of theologian and priest Richard John Neuhaus. Fr. Neauhaus became somewhat controversial for advocating that American public life (politics) should never be divorced from a religiously-centred morality. He became embraced by both conservative Evangelicals and conservative Catholics for these and other views. He was a man who went through many changes: Canadian-to-American, Lutheran-to-Catholic, Democrat-to-Republican.
The focus of Brooks' essay, however, is death. The way Neuhaus approached death has the ring of wisdom for me, and it's notable for it's lack of sentimentality:
In Brooks' request for "comfort" I see the problem of most pastoral care requests. People ask us religious types for words of comfort for loved ones. What they really want, usually, is to be comforted themselves!
-t
The focus of Brooks' essay, however, is death. The way Neuhaus approached death has the ring of wisdom for me, and it's notable for it's lack of sentimentality:
William D. Eddy was an Episcopal minister in Tarrytown, N.Y., and an admirer of the writer and theologian Richard John Neuhaus. When Rev. Eddy grew gravely ill about 20 years ago, I asked Neuhaus to write him a letter of comfort.
I was shocked when I read it a few weeks later. As I recall, Neuhaus’s message was this: There are comforting things you and I have learned to say in circumstances such as these, but we don’t need those things between ourselves.
Neuhaus then went on to talk frankly and extensively about death. Those two men were in a separate fraternity and could talk directly about things the rest avoided. (source)
In Brooks' request for "comfort" I see the problem of most pastoral care requests. People ask us religious types for words of comfort for loved ones. What they really want, usually, is to be comforted themselves!
-t
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Pastor's Advice on Marriage: More Sex
The New York Times has a great article about the trend in evangelical circles to encourage (married) couples to have more sex.
There have been a few influential books published recently encouraging couples to have more sex--notable 365 Nights and Just Do It. Both of these are reportedly very funny and free accounts of couples committing to have as much sex as possible despite demanding jobs, children, and middle-age. From what I've heard (I haven't read either one) the embedded gender ideas are basically mainstream (not scary in the way some Evangelical notions of gender can be).
The biblical, theological, and pastoral convictions underlying the role of sex in marriage is, of course, substantial. God wants us to have sex. So why don't we talk more openly about this in Christian marriage? When I do pre-marriage counseling with couples I usually spend at least one session talking about it. One of the things I always mention is that sex inside marriage is very different that the sort of love-making that happens in courtship or even when a couple is living together. Something shifts when you actually get married. A therapist friend of mine (Mary Gates) told me once that when you get married suddenly all your family comes into the bedroom with you. The sex "means" something it didn't before. It has become, in an important sense, more sacramental now that it is contextualized by Word and Spirit.
The notion of sex-as-sacrament is pretty profound. As a sacrament, this "outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace" is a ritual that is what it represents: the union of two people "in mind, body, and soul." It has the power to accomplish that which we cannot do on our own--it takes us beyond ourselves and into a share of the bounty God promises us.
Like all sacraments, the best preparation for sex is forgiveness. Just like we ask God's forgiveness before touching Christ's body, we also need to have a similar spirit of openness and vulnerability when reaching toward our spouse. In fact, I have ever spent time in marriage prep teaching couples how to ask and grant forgiveness. If I teach them nothing else, this may the most important lesson in marriage prep. The sad thing is, many people do not know how to ask for forgiveness in this or any other relationship. Oddly, our culture right now has a hard time with this part of the sin-contrition-newlife cycle and that gets played out in marriages all the time.
Another problem for many couples has to do with the problems that arise from negotiating the tricky boundary between self and other. Psychologists call it "self-differentiation." Here's a scenario, Jane and Mike are married. They always have sex on Friday night, usually after spending time doing something as a couple going to the movies, dinner, or out with friends. Increasingly, however, Jane feels more distant from Mike. As a result, she feels less inclined to make love on Friday nights. Now, if she declines his advances this could be seen as a mark that she is living authentically and not just keeping up appearances. her actions will align with her desires. But, on the other hand it may not help her higher-level goal of having intimacy with her husband. If she has healthy self-differentiation she may be able to think something like, "I really don't feel like this right now, but I will do it for him." Poor self-differentiation might look like, "I really don't feel like this right now, what's wrong with me? I better do it anyway or Mike will get mad..." Note that having sex or not having sex in a particular situation could be the result of poor or good marital health. The key is whether your sacrificial offering of yourself is acceptable or not.
Note that in the Bible not all sacrifices are pleasing to the Lord. In fact, one has to be quite deliberate and careful about what is offered up and how. The wisdom here is that God doesn't want us to make sacrifice for His sake but ours! Thus, one must always examine that which is to be offered carefully.
I'm still learning how to do this this kind of discernment around self-differentiation. Something about the ability to be ones self and yet utterly connected to the other at the same time. Meditation helps, I think, as do the other typical spiritual disciplines: prayer, service to others, listening, study, etc. It's a lesson that takes a lifetime to learn.
-t
Mr. Young, an author, a television host and the pastor of the evangelical Fellowship Church, issued his call for a week of “congregational copulation” among married couples on Nov. 16, while pacing in front of a large bed. Sometimes he reclined on the paisley coverlet while flipping through a Bible, emphasizing his point that it is time for the church to put God back in the bed. ...
Mrs. Young, dressed in knee-high black boots and jeans, said that after a week of having sex every day, or close to it, “some of us are smiling.” For others grappling with infidelities, addictions to pornography or other bitter hurts, “there’s been some pain; hopefully there’s been some forgiveness, too.” (source)
There have been a few influential books published recently encouraging couples to have more sex--notable 365 Nights and Just Do It. Both of these are reportedly very funny and free accounts of couples committing to have as much sex as possible despite demanding jobs, children, and middle-age. From what I've heard (I haven't read either one) the embedded gender ideas are basically mainstream (not scary in the way some Evangelical notions of gender can be).
The biblical, theological, and pastoral convictions underlying the role of sex in marriage is, of course, substantial. God wants us to have sex. So why don't we talk more openly about this in Christian marriage? When I do pre-marriage counseling with couples I usually spend at least one session talking about it. One of the things I always mention is that sex inside marriage is very different that the sort of love-making that happens in courtship or even when a couple is living together. Something shifts when you actually get married. A therapist friend of mine (Mary Gates) told me once that when you get married suddenly all your family comes into the bedroom with you. The sex "means" something it didn't before. It has become, in an important sense, more sacramental now that it is contextualized by Word and Spirit.
The notion of sex-as-sacrament is pretty profound. As a sacrament, this "outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace" is a ritual that is what it represents: the union of two people "in mind, body, and soul." It has the power to accomplish that which we cannot do on our own--it takes us beyond ourselves and into a share of the bounty God promises us.
Like all sacraments, the best preparation for sex is forgiveness. Just like we ask God's forgiveness before touching Christ's body, we also need to have a similar spirit of openness and vulnerability when reaching toward our spouse. In fact, I have ever spent time in marriage prep teaching couples how to ask and grant forgiveness. If I teach them nothing else, this may the most important lesson in marriage prep. The sad thing is, many people do not know how to ask for forgiveness in this or any other relationship. Oddly, our culture right now has a hard time with this part of the sin-contrition-newlife cycle and that gets played out in marriages all the time.
Another problem for many couples has to do with the problems that arise from negotiating the tricky boundary between self and other. Psychologists call it "self-differentiation." Here's a scenario, Jane and Mike are married. They always have sex on Friday night, usually after spending time doing something as a couple going to the movies, dinner, or out with friends. Increasingly, however, Jane feels more distant from Mike. As a result, she feels less inclined to make love on Friday nights. Now, if she declines his advances this could be seen as a mark that she is living authentically and not just keeping up appearances. her actions will align with her desires. But, on the other hand it may not help her higher-level goal of having intimacy with her husband. If she has healthy self-differentiation she may be able to think something like, "I really don't feel like this right now, but I will do it for him." Poor self-differentiation might look like, "I really don't feel like this right now, what's wrong with me? I better do it anyway or Mike will get mad..." Note that having sex or not having sex in a particular situation could be the result of poor or good marital health. The key is whether your sacrificial offering of yourself is acceptable or not.
Note that in the Bible not all sacrifices are pleasing to the Lord. In fact, one has to be quite deliberate and careful about what is offered up and how. The wisdom here is that God doesn't want us to make sacrifice for His sake but ours! Thus, one must always examine that which is to be offered carefully.
I'm still learning how to do this this kind of discernment around self-differentiation. Something about the ability to be ones self and yet utterly connected to the other at the same time. Meditation helps, I think, as do the other typical spiritual disciplines: prayer, service to others, listening, study, etc. It's a lesson that takes a lifetime to learn.
-t
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Hospice Chaplaincy
There is a good article about Hospice Chaplaincy in the NYTimes today. It reminded me a lot of my very rewarding service as a Hospital Chaplain in NJ and then CT.
Apparently, the demand for Pastoral Care for patients is on the rise:
I think the author of the article was somewhat surprised how "non-religious" chaplaincy looks. Perhaps he was expecting more talk about "saving your soul" and Jesus around the bed sides of the dying. Perhaps he assumed this was a modern phenomenon, part of the secularization of North American culture. But actually this is just the result of one of the first rules of chaplaincy, learn the patient's language! In a parish setting you teach people to use a religious vocabulary, but at the bed side you just have to use what is at hand. Thus talk about a tree that needs to be cut down in the back yard becomes the way to talk about the patient's upcoming death.
Two things really struck me. One was this excellent example of pastoral care...
Just a text book example of good Pastoral Care. Showing someone something that they always knew to be true, but they just didn't know it.
I was also impressed with the end:
Yep, this particular Chaplain is definitely the Real Deal! God Bless the Chaplains!
-t
Apparently, the demand for Pastoral Care for patients is on the rise:
In the quarter-century since Medicare and some private insurers began picking up the bill for hospice care, it has become a common recourse for the terminally ill. With doctors, nurses, social workers and ample supplies of pain medication dispatched to their homes or nursing facilities in the final weeks and months, about 1.3 million Americans died last year in hospice care.
Spiritual counseling has always been an optional part of the service. But recently, the proportion of patients choosing to receive it, and the number of new chaplains entering the field to meet the need, have risen sharply.
Chaplain services in New York City have nearly doubled since 2004: About 65 percent of the city’s 4,000 hospice patients accept visits from chaplains today, compared with about 35 percent four years ago, according to the two major hospice providers, the Visiting Nurse Service of New York and Continuum Hospice Care.
Nationwide, a study released two weeks ago by the National Center for Health Statistics of the Centers for Disease Control set the proportion of patients accepting a chaplain’s care at 72 percent in one sampling, as compared with the 59 percent another group found in 2000. (source)
I think the author of the article was somewhat surprised how "non-religious" chaplaincy looks. Perhaps he was expecting more talk about "saving your soul" and Jesus around the bed sides of the dying. Perhaps he assumed this was a modern phenomenon, part of the secularization of North American culture. But actually this is just the result of one of the first rules of chaplaincy, learn the patient's language! In a parish setting you teach people to use a religious vocabulary, but at the bed side you just have to use what is at hand. Thus talk about a tree that needs to be cut down in the back yard becomes the way to talk about the patient's upcoming death.
Two things really struck me. One was this excellent example of pastoral care...
The chaplains listen, mainly; and sometimes, like jazz musicians, pick up themes and try to bring them to new levels.
“I talked to my mother yesterday,” said Robert, an 83-year-old man with Alzheimer’s, whose mother died in the 1960s.
“How was she?” said the chaplain, Tom Grannell. “You haven’t talked to her in a while.”
“Pretty good,” said Robert. “She agrees with my father: I’m laying here too long. Time to get back to work.”
“Your mother always believed in you,” said the chaplain.
“Yes, she did,” said Robert.
Just a text book example of good Pastoral Care. Showing someone something that they always knew to be true, but they just didn't know it.
I was also impressed with the end:
As he hurried along, checking phone messages, scanning a subway map, he was asked if the daily encounter with other people’s deaths was ever too much. He paused, and said a chaplain’s own distress and sense of vulnerability to death were, in a way, part of the job. “It is my first bond with my patient,” he said.
In the best of worlds, he said, a relationship based on that helps a patient make peace.
“But many times, this never happens,” he said. “We are there to be there. That is the point. It is my job to stay when there is no answer.”
Yep, this particular Chaplain is definitely the Real Deal! God Bless the Chaplains!
-t
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Intensity
Kind of intense day spiritually. The Contemplative Eucharist had unusually deep silences. As usual with meditation and contemplative practice the key is to observe without judging, so my observation is simply that the silences felt deeper and more peaceful even than usual. I wonder whether the fact that this group is settling into a way of being together on Wednesday mornings is a factor. That is, the novelty is wearing off and the real work of sitting has begun.
Then there was an intense pastoral care session with a person experiencing acute grief. I'm pretty experienced helping people process grief, but it doesn't make it any easier on my end, since in order to do that work it is necessary to go to the grief place oneself.
And now it's only time for lunch! Wow.
-t
Then there was an intense pastoral care session with a person experiencing acute grief. I'm pretty experienced helping people process grief, but it doesn't make it any easier on my end, since in order to do that work it is necessary to go to the grief place oneself.
And now it's only time for lunch! Wow.
-t
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
On My Mind
Troubling me is an encounter I had this week with a man wanting my assistance. He's poor and functionally illiterate. He wants me to help him get money from the government from a ten-year-old worker's comp claim. Given that he hasn't gotten any money yet, I think this is a long shot, but he's convinced that he is due the money since they sent him a letter ten years ago explaining that they may offer him a settlement. No matter how many times I explain to him that the form letter was simply describing something that they might do, he still insists that they would not have said this if they did not intend to give him money. I'm realizing that there may be some kind of learning disability or cognitive deficit complicating the situation.
Now he wants money from the City to help pay for an apartment he just rented. A City Social Worker told him that they would give him $700 if he found a suitable apartment. He found one that is too expensive to qualify and they won't give him the money, and he's mad because he thinks he is entitled to it no matter what apartment he found. I'm having flashbacks to being a Social Worker myself in Los Angeles. But those days are past. Now I'm not sure what help I can be to him.
"The answer is always in the client," is a mantra I sometimes use. Meaning, if you are at a loss with what to do, center yourself in the experience of the client. I think that this guy is incapable or unwilling to understand reality. I've tried to explain things rationally and that's not working. So I think I just need to be really clear about the boundaries and what I'm willing to do. Sure--I can make some phone calls. But I'm not going to camp out at the Worker's Comp office just to find out that his claim was denied 10 years ago.
I think a lot of priests end up in this situation--wanting to be helpful and having people ask more than we can give. It's helpful in such circumstances to look inward and experience the feelings that arise. Of course I feel guilty. Shouldn't I be totally devoted to advocating for this man and all others who come? Well, the reality is that he is not my only responsibility. I also have a church to run and other people to care for. (Not to mention my own self to keep in balance.)
So it goes. Hard not to get trapped in a cycle of guilt and anger as a minister. Easy to feel guilty for having every advantage in life and for sitting in my office answering e-mail and blogging and thinking about my sermon, etc. Easy to feel angry when someone tells you that your duty as a Christian is to help them. I know so many priests that burned out as they cycled between guilt and anger. I believe the solution has something to do with forgiveness....
-t
Now he wants money from the City to help pay for an apartment he just rented. A City Social Worker told him that they would give him $700 if he found a suitable apartment. He found one that is too expensive to qualify and they won't give him the money, and he's mad because he thinks he is entitled to it no matter what apartment he found. I'm having flashbacks to being a Social Worker myself in Los Angeles. But those days are past. Now I'm not sure what help I can be to him.
"The answer is always in the client," is a mantra I sometimes use. Meaning, if you are at a loss with what to do, center yourself in the experience of the client. I think that this guy is incapable or unwilling to understand reality. I've tried to explain things rationally and that's not working. So I think I just need to be really clear about the boundaries and what I'm willing to do. Sure--I can make some phone calls. But I'm not going to camp out at the Worker's Comp office just to find out that his claim was denied 10 years ago.
I think a lot of priests end up in this situation--wanting to be helpful and having people ask more than we can give. It's helpful in such circumstances to look inward and experience the feelings that arise. Of course I feel guilty. Shouldn't I be totally devoted to advocating for this man and all others who come? Well, the reality is that he is not my only responsibility. I also have a church to run and other people to care for. (Not to mention my own self to keep in balance.)
So it goes. Hard not to get trapped in a cycle of guilt and anger as a minister. Easy to feel guilty for having every advantage in life and for sitting in my office answering e-mail and blogging and thinking about my sermon, etc. Easy to feel angry when someone tells you that your duty as a Christian is to help them. I know so many priests that burned out as they cycled between guilt and anger. I believe the solution has something to do with forgiveness....
-t
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Marriage Prep
I just finished doing a marriage prep session with a couple that live in the neighborhood. The actual wedding is being done by another priest out east, but it made sense for them to do the prep here.
Every priest does this differently, and my own style seems to change a lot based on the couple. For instance, sometimes it feels more like couple counseling and we really dig up deep stuff. Other times it's more like a class where I'm giving them "homework" like personality tests and essays about the spirituality of marriage to read.
I notice that a lot of priests seem to approach marriage prep as essentially a psychological issue. They want to explore issues around compatibility and behavior and so forth. Others treat marriage as a liturgical problem, and focus too much on ushering couples through the planning of the ceremony. Me, I like to cover a broad range of stuff and see what resonates with the couple. Ultimately, I'm just there to facilitate a process that is ongoing and will continue long past my brief involvement.
Another thing worth noticing: the couples I've met with are usually very enthusiastic about doing the marriage prep. They take it seriously and believe me when I tell them that studies show that good marriage prep is a significant factor in people staying together.
-t
Every priest does this differently, and my own style seems to change a lot based on the couple. For instance, sometimes it feels more like couple counseling and we really dig up deep stuff. Other times it's more like a class where I'm giving them "homework" like personality tests and essays about the spirituality of marriage to read.
I notice that a lot of priests seem to approach marriage prep as essentially a psychological issue. They want to explore issues around compatibility and behavior and so forth. Others treat marriage as a liturgical problem, and focus too much on ushering couples through the planning of the ceremony. Me, I like to cover a broad range of stuff and see what resonates with the couple. Ultimately, I'm just there to facilitate a process that is ongoing and will continue long past my brief involvement.
Another thing worth noticing: the couples I've met with are usually very enthusiastic about doing the marriage prep. They take it seriously and believe me when I tell them that studies show that good marriage prep is a significant factor in people staying together.
-t
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Case Studies in Pastoral Care
Bede has the story of a fascinating Pastoral Care encounter he had on a recent plane trip. Those of you interesting in knowing about how Pastoral Care works should check out his blog entry. Here's an excerpt:
No wonder this guy is my role model.
-t
But I'll have to say that he takes to it pretty quickly. He's amazingly and genuinely both open minded and open hearted And we haven't been talking very long when he reveals to me that just a couple of weeks ago he gave a talk to the kids he works with about being so dedicated to God that you are willing to have everything taken away from you. He even said that he could see himself being destitute for the sake of his faith. "And who," I say, "do you suppose you were preaching that for?" He guffaws. That's not a word I ever use, but it's the only one that fits this particular response. There's an explosion of laughter and relief and he struggles to get out his answer: "Me", he says.
Ok - I've managed to put a bit of perspective into this situation, and I've suggested a change of view that he can explore and even respect. But here's where it gets really interesting, because here's where stuff begins to flow in the other direction. With a good deal of enthusiasm he gets up and fetches his computer and pulls up a sermon from the Internet. It's where his talk to the kids came from. It's entitled: "God is Enough". And boy, is it powerful. It is by a talented and anointed preacher saying something something that reaches all the way down to the bottom of me. It's a sermon designed to counter the arguments of the Propserity Gospel - the view that all you have to do is believe rightly and act faithfully and you will be rewarded monetarily. And over and over again in the course of a homily of about 5 minutes, this guy drums out: "Whatever your circumstance, whatever your needs, whatever your demands, God is enough." Some of his illustrations are outrageous - they are intended to be. This talk is designed to break through ordinary human resistance with the Gospel. God is enough. (source)
No wonder this guy is my role model.
-t
Monday, April 28, 2008
Hospital Visits
Flashbacks to chaplaincy.
A friend of ours was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago. A few days ago she went in for he first of several surgeries/procedures. Betsy and I went with some other common friends to visit the hospital on Saturday. Then I went back on Sunday to bring communion. I think she was happy that I did that. It's amazing how powerful the sacrament can be.
Once I read an essay about how the experience of illness can be compared to travel to distant lands. Once a person is diagnosed with an illness they must travel to the "Land of the Sick." Once there, they must learn the language, culture, customs of this land. The essay went on to analyze the attendant feelings of being lost and "other" in this place. It's a useful metaphor. That feeling of being "lost" or dislocated is part of the spiritual zeitgeist of this age, IMHO.
George Packard, the ECUSA Suffragan Bishop for Chaplaincies once told a meeting I attended that he sees a population of people who are increasingly isolated from "mainstream" society and yet have disproportionately large amounts of interaction with military, healthcare, and law enforcement institutions. Thus chaplaincy has a crucial role ministering to this population that is only getting more important.
Here's a picture of the ECUSA's Presiding Bishop, Katherine Jefferts Schori, wearing a bad-ass "Chaplain" hat with the Episcopal Church's Seal on it. I have one of these hats. They were given to priests that requested them as part of the lessons-learned from 9/11. It also came with a DVD training video for crisis stress response. Anyway, seeing her wear the hat makes me proud.
-t
A friend of ours was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago. A few days ago she went in for he first of several surgeries/procedures. Betsy and I went with some other common friends to visit the hospital on Saturday. Then I went back on Sunday to bring communion. I think she was happy that I did that. It's amazing how powerful the sacrament can be.
Once I read an essay about how the experience of illness can be compared to travel to distant lands. Once a person is diagnosed with an illness they must travel to the "Land of the Sick." Once there, they must learn the language, culture, customs of this land. The essay went on to analyze the attendant feelings of being lost and "other" in this place. It's a useful metaphor. That feeling of being "lost" or dislocated is part of the spiritual zeitgeist of this age, IMHO.
George Packard, the ECUSA Suffragan Bishop for Chaplaincies once told a meeting I attended that he sees a population of people who are increasingly isolated from "mainstream" society and yet have disproportionately large amounts of interaction with military, healthcare, and law enforcement institutions. Thus chaplaincy has a crucial role ministering to this population that is only getting more important.
Here's a picture of the ECUSA's Presiding Bishop, Katherine Jefferts Schori, wearing a bad-ass "Chaplain" hat with the Episcopal Church's Seal on it. I have one of these hats. They were given to priests that requested them as part of the lessons-learned from 9/11. It also came with a DVD training video for crisis stress response. Anyway, seeing her wear the hat makes me proud.
-t
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Vista
So today I pulled the principle hard drive from my old computer and installed it into my new one to facilitate moving my e-mail, etc., over to the machine. So what work I did on my computer today I did on Vista 64. So far, it seems okay. Not much different from XP, really, which is to say that most of the problems that XP had are still there (although people do say it's a bit more crash-resistant than XP).
The real proof will come once I get the Adobe suite installed and start putting ORAC through his paces! I expect to have some problems with software that was designed to run on XP(32-bit), etc. Since the photos from Palm Sunday arrived today, I have PLENTY of content to start editing and putting onto the website. I also have my Easter Sermon to post. Of course, I made the current COTM website in Wordpad and could keep coding by hand if necessary, but editing the image, audio, and video files will require that I get the Adobe Suite going. (Or, worst case, alternative editors).
Today I brought Easter Communion to a couple unable to come to church for health reasons. As I'm not keeping Reserve Sacrament at COTM until I get my tabernacle (currently on order), I called down to Redeemer and they were more than happy to give me some of theirs. The couple I visited received me graciously and gave me some tea and "biscuits" after I gave them the sacrament. Nice people.
Life is good.
-t
The real proof will come once I get the Adobe suite installed and start putting ORAC through his paces! I expect to have some problems with software that was designed to run on XP(32-bit), etc. Since the photos from Palm Sunday arrived today, I have PLENTY of content to start editing and putting onto the website. I also have my Easter Sermon to post. Of course, I made the current COTM website in Wordpad and could keep coding by hand if necessary, but editing the image, audio, and video files will require that I get the Adobe Suite going. (Or, worst case, alternative editors).
Today I brought Easter Communion to a couple unable to come to church for health reasons. As I'm not keeping Reserve Sacrament at COTM until I get my tabernacle (currently on order), I called down to Redeemer and they were more than happy to give me some of theirs. The couple I visited received me graciously and gave me some tea and "biscuits" after I gave them the sacrament. Nice people.
Life is good.
-t
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Confrontation
Most priests suck at confrontation--it's simply not a part of our nature to argue with people unless we are really backed into a corner. But lately I've been told of a situation that requires pastoral intervention, and thus I have to act. It's very unpleasant, but then I recall the time in which I have been confronted for bad behavior and the ways in which that sometimes led to very good growth. Confrontation is one of those things that you do a lot of in the CPE training I did. Our group would sit around a few times a week for months and every once in a while someone would have a beef with someone else and we'd fight in the healthiest way possible! Sometimes it felt a little artificial, sometimes it was incredibly authentic and many tears were shed. The thing about confrontation is that when it's handled well it really can be graceful. Far beyond merely correcting behavior, confrontation done in a spirit of love can call a person into a richer life. So I'm gearing up for this encounter, though in truth there isn't much to prepare. It's all about the encounter and the moment. Prayer helps, though.
Sunday was weird. I made a couple of mistakes that made me feel stupid. It's good to make those kind, though, because it keeps you liturgically humble. In my case I didn't break anything of hurt anyone, so it's all just worship after that. I'll post the children's sermon when I get a chance, but today has been busy.
Tradcom went very well--we had a dozen people. My homily came to me easily and the liturgy was smooth. The BCP Communion service still grates me sometimes, but I'm happy that others are fed by it.
I'm on to say a second Mass today--Dana Fisher invited me to be one of her regulars at the Trinity Chapel. I consider it quite an honor, actually, to celebrate the Holy Eucharist in a seminary chapel. I remember when I got to celebrate Eucharist at the Berkeley Divinity School chapel with great affection. It's also luxurious to lead worship in someone else's church! It's like being a grandparent, all the love and none of the responsibility.
Here's one of Dave Walker's cartoons to amuse you. The man has deep wisdom...
-t
Sunday was weird. I made a couple of mistakes that made me feel stupid. It's good to make those kind, though, because it keeps you liturgically humble. In my case I didn't break anything of hurt anyone, so it's all just worship after that. I'll post the children's sermon when I get a chance, but today has been busy.
Tradcom went very well--we had a dozen people. My homily came to me easily and the liturgy was smooth. The BCP Communion service still grates me sometimes, but I'm happy that others are fed by it.
I'm on to say a second Mass today--Dana Fisher invited me to be one of her regulars at the Trinity Chapel. I consider it quite an honor, actually, to celebrate the Holy Eucharist in a seminary chapel. I remember when I got to celebrate Eucharist at the Berkeley Divinity School chapel with great affection. It's also luxurious to lead worship in someone else's church! It's like being a grandparent, all the love and none of the responsibility.
Here's one of Dave Walker's cartoons to amuse you. The man has deep wisdom...
-t
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Trauma
When I first started doing Social Work in Los Angeles after graduating College, I was not terribly surprised to discover that most of my clients showed evidence of having gone through psychological trauma. At the time I thought, "well, this population is disproportionately affected by violence and abuse." But when I started doing pastoral care in seminary and beyond I discovered that I was wrong--it's not just "the population" of people I was seeing in Los Angeles that show such prevalent signs of psychological trauma, it's rampant across all sectors of society. Now I'm not sure if this is an increase from historic levels, but I am positive that our methods of healing psychological trauma have vastly improved. I also think that another difference of our age is that people have an expectation that they will be reasonably healthy and happy.
So it is that many of us who want to help people have learned first hand about how to help those who have experienced trauma of one kind or another. This kind of work is hard and hazardous, but also incredibly rewarding. It's amazing to be able to work with someone to achieve the wholeness God has intended for them.
If any of you reading this blog are interested in learning more about helping people affected by trauma, I highly recommend this book: Trauma and Recovery by Judith Herman, M.D.
It's a ground-breaking work that shifted much of my thinking on the subject to a new level. It's particularly good at explaining the dynamics of Borderline Personality Disorder and why therapists have such trouble treating it. It was assigned reading for a course of Pastoral Care and Violence that I took at YDS with Kristen Leslie. I have a lot of respect for Kristen--she's the real deal. As an aside, she does a great version of "Simple Gifts" on the Hammer Dulcimer. I also learned a lot about this subject from Bede Mudge and Mary Gates. Yet learning about trauma is a whole different thing from learning how to treat trauma in a care-giving scenario. That, I'm afraid, only comes from encountering people in need, listening to their stories, and allowing oneself to be changed by them. I'm fortunate to have been able to refine some of those skills under the supervision of some masterful practitioners. And yet I'm still a newbie at this.
The key seems to be self control in the midst of disturbing revelations. In other words, maintaining a relaxed but firm grip on oneself even as you see and hear things that are quite disturbing. Yet it's not enough just to sit there like a stone--you have to know when to give back some of the things swirling around inside of you, the care-giver. It's about figuring out the right balance between receiving the revelation and responding to it. Respond too much or too quickly and you shut down the disclosure and impose your own interpretation. Give too little and the client feels isolated and unheard. Worse, you miss the chance to transform their story by adding to it.
Another note worth mentioning: trauma is very much about the story. The client's account is the absolute most important artifact of their experience. In some ways maladaptive responses to trauma can be said to be misinterpretations of the person's own story. Therefore, healing can come in the re-articulation of history when that re-speaking leads to better integration and adaptive response. Efforts to achieve psychological healing through litigation often fall short because they bring out a story, but it's not necessarily the client's and it's not done in a way that necessarily encourages new responses within the client. This is why it is a huge mistake to force a new interpretation of events onto a client ("maybe he didn't mean it like that..." "in her culture it's okay to do that..." "I'm sure that will never happen to you again...").
Notice, BTW, that Trauma is central to the Christian Story. The moment of Christian Salvation is affected by God's reinterpretation of the story of Christ's death. And therefore we keep telling that new story that brings healing to the world.
Good stuff.
-t
So it is that many of us who want to help people have learned first hand about how to help those who have experienced trauma of one kind or another. This kind of work is hard and hazardous, but also incredibly rewarding. It's amazing to be able to work with someone to achieve the wholeness God has intended for them.
If any of you reading this blog are interested in learning more about helping people affected by trauma, I highly recommend this book: Trauma and Recovery by Judith Herman, M.D.
It's a ground-breaking work that shifted much of my thinking on the subject to a new level. It's particularly good at explaining the dynamics of Borderline Personality Disorder and why therapists have such trouble treating it. It was assigned reading for a course of Pastoral Care and Violence that I took at YDS with Kristen Leslie. I have a lot of respect for Kristen--she's the real deal. As an aside, she does a great version of "Simple Gifts" on the Hammer Dulcimer. I also learned a lot about this subject from Bede Mudge and Mary Gates. Yet learning about trauma is a whole different thing from learning how to treat trauma in a care-giving scenario. That, I'm afraid, only comes from encountering people in need, listening to their stories, and allowing oneself to be changed by them. I'm fortunate to have been able to refine some of those skills under the supervision of some masterful practitioners. And yet I'm still a newbie at this.
The key seems to be self control in the midst of disturbing revelations. In other words, maintaining a relaxed but firm grip on oneself even as you see and hear things that are quite disturbing. Yet it's not enough just to sit there like a stone--you have to know when to give back some of the things swirling around inside of you, the care-giver. It's about figuring out the right balance between receiving the revelation and responding to it. Respond too much or too quickly and you shut down the disclosure and impose your own interpretation. Give too little and the client feels isolated and unheard. Worse, you miss the chance to transform their story by adding to it.
Another note worth mentioning: trauma is very much about the story. The client's account is the absolute most important artifact of their experience. In some ways maladaptive responses to trauma can be said to be misinterpretations of the person's own story. Therefore, healing can come in the re-articulation of history when that re-speaking leads to better integration and adaptive response. Efforts to achieve psychological healing through litigation often fall short because they bring out a story, but it's not necessarily the client's and it's not done in a way that necessarily encourages new responses within the client. This is why it is a huge mistake to force a new interpretation of events onto a client ("maybe he didn't mean it like that..." "in her culture it's okay to do that..." "I'm sure that will never happen to you again...").
Notice, BTW, that Trauma is central to the Christian Story. The moment of Christian Salvation is affected by God's reinterpretation of the story of Christ's death. And therefore we keep telling that new story that brings healing to the world.
Good stuff.
-t
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