I frequently have interactions that leave me with looming questions. This is my recolection and the remaining questions from one such incident:
I was rounding floors and was on 5W where I was told a 14yr old male was inpatient from surgery to set a compound fracture tibia. The nurse relayed that he was speaking in belligerent ways to all staff and that he had no family with him. It was almost 1am and the patient was still up watching TV.
I knocked and entered the room when he acknowledged me. There I met KM who is African American and appears older than his age. He said in a gruff tone, “what do you want?” I said, “My name is Lavender and I’m a chaplain here. I saw you were up and thought I’d say hi since I don’t get to see too many folks awake at this time of night.” He replied, “yeah, I don’t sleep much and I don’t trust these b******. Anyway, what do you want?” I said, “I don’t really want anything. But like I said, I saw you were up and thought I’d check in. Wanna play a game or watch a movie?”
From that point, KM and I had a conversation about card games. He told me he was great at poker and that I’d never be able to read if he was bluffing. He started sharing stories of beating other people. I got a deck of cards and we played dealer’s choice. For the first 20 min, he continued with grandiose stories of things he had won playing poker and said he wanted to play professionally. At some point I asked how he learned to play.
At this point his manner changed into something quieter but he quickly rebounded and told me about his older brother who had been shot and killed. Though not said directly, the context clues told me it was gang related. His stories of his brother were full of the same profanity, grandiosity, and bravado he had been exhibiting. I gathered that his brother was 3 years older and was killed last year. I dropped the subject for a while sensing that he didn’t want to go further than surface details.
After a while I noticed him staring at my badge. He asked, “What’s a chaplain?” I went into my normal explanation of a chaplain being kind of like a minister in a church but instead of working at a church, I only work here. And I added that I like to spend time with all kinds of people no matter what they believe because it’s important to not be alone when you’re sick.
At this he sat up straighter in bed and apologized for his profanity. I told him I didn’t care but then asked him why he would apologize to me but not the nurses who were trying to take care of him. He said, “those b****** don’t care about me. They just want to get my black a** outta here so I can be killed like everyone else.”
I said, “what makes you think that?” He replied, “Are you stupid? That’s how everybody is. Cops, teachers, everybody. My brother didn’t die because he was in a gang. He died because none of you care!”
I sat silently looking into his angry eyes and noticing his heavy breathing for what felt like an eternity though it was only about 10 seconds. I said, “KM, would it be okay if I don’t believe everyone feels that way? I don’t want to sound like I’m arguing with you because it sounds like you feel that way for a reason.”
He said, “of course you don’t think that.” I said, “what do you mean?” He replied, “because of God and s***. You aren’t supposed to.” I said, “no one is supposed to feel that way. No one should want someone else dead.” When I said this, I had a fearful feeling I overstepped. He looked at me angrily and said, “I want those f****** that killed DM dead!” I said, “If it were me, I would too but wanting something because I’m upset and actually doing it aren’t the same.”
At this point he starts telling me about all the people that have his back. There’s something about him that tells me he really doesn’t like violence but I can’t figure out what to say about it. He shared the story of how he broke his leg jumping from something to chase someone away. He said, “my brother would have done the same thing” as he concluded the story. I said, “It’s real important to me to remember people that are dead that are still part of me. Sounds like you work hard to remember your brother. How would he want you to carry him on?”
He showed me his tattoo honoring his brother. He then told me about how his brother never wanted him be in the gang. He said, “DM used to say I just needed to play basketball and take care of momma.”
He continued to talk a while about how he doesn’t have a choice to be in the gang now and how he likes having friends, especially ones that knew his brother. I found myself thinking that I really had nothing to offer the kid. Personally, I don’t think he stands a chance of getting out of the gang alive and I know exactly why he thinks most white people want him dead. Yet, he’s got a really sensitive inside that I catch glimpses of when he gets close to his pain about DM.
Finally I said, “I know there are lots of things you can’t change and I’m not going to pretend like you can. But what is one simple thing that would make your life better?” Without any hesitation, he said, “not hate so much.” I unintentionally chuckled and said, “I said a ‘simple thing’” and he laughed too.
This was a turning point in our conversation. KM spoke with insight into how much he misses DM and how doing what his brother did is a way of keeping DM with him. He said he never felt angry and hateful prior to the murder.
I reminded him of what I said earlier about carrying dead people with me as a way of honoring them and loving them. I asked him what ways he wanted to show his brother honor. We talked about it for a while. The things he wanted to do include continuing to play basketball, staying in the gang, getting another tattoo, and writing DM’s name on some wall. I also asked him if there were parts in addition to the hate he wanted to let go of. He was less clear about this but he was clear that he wanted to smoke pot but never wanted to use drugs like his momma does. I think the unspoken dynamic is that she uses to mask feelings of sorrow. So this was his way of saying he wanted to let go of the sorrow too.
Our conversation started to wind down and I could tell it was time to go. I told him I was really glad to meet him and even more honored that he and I had such a great talk. We had a mildly awkward goodbye with the unspoken piece being that we would never see each other again.
This 2+ hour conversation happened as we played poker. Though many themes exist including racism, I focused on and have continued to reflect upon how to help someone grieve when they don’t have the space or safety to do that in a textbook manner.
• I place a lot of trust in my intuition in such moments. What are some dangers I might miss if I focus too much on his underlying gentleness?
• Is it ethical for me to move him toward grief work when he may need the anger/pain as a mode of survival?
• What other resources could I have offered?
• I wish I had helped him name sorrow. How else could I have helped him continue healthy grieving?
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Along the Way
Along the Way <-- Audio File - Sermon based upon Psalm 107:1-9, 43
Good morning. It’s an honor to be back with you again to worship. For those of you that weren’t here on my previous visits, my name is Lavender Kelley and I’m a chaplain at Children’s Memorial Hospital in Chicago. I’m a graduate of Louisville Seminary and have been a chaplain in the 4 years since then. Actually, some of your youth recently met Adam Fischer, a classmate of mine from seminary. He is now at Harvey Brown Pres in Louisville, the host church for the youth mission trip.
As a chaplain and cancer survivor, I’m very involved in volunteering for causes near and dear to me. Some of you may recognize that I have more hair than I did last time I was here because I had shaved my head in a fundraising event one month prior to that. Anyway, I mostly just want you to know that I’m grateful to spend some more time with you in this holy time of worship.
Our scripture text that John read for you this morning is from Psalm 107. The lectionary guide for this week chose only to include verses 1-9 & 43. That means you heard the introduction, 1 story illustration, and the benediction. But if we were to read the whole psalm, what we would see might seem more like a full sermon. Because the whole psalm contains an introduction, 4 very similar sermon illustrations, a conclusion, and a benediction.
This Psalm focuses on God’s “steadfast love” or “hesed” as it is read in Hebrew. Scholars frequently refer to this as the model psalm of God’s “steadfast love.” They say this because the psalm in its entirety contains repeated stories of God’s unrelenting love for people. That’s part of what I find remarkable about this psalm. Many of the psalms are written to God as prayers. Those prayers reveal what people believe God should do or how they want to interact with God. But this one is written from a different perspective. In this one, the psalmist shares their previous experience with and of God… how God intervened and delivered them from distress.
Verses 4-9 are the first of those similar stories that the psalmist shares of God’s loving intervention. The writer tells us:
Within this story and the other three that follow later in the Psalm, there are different details but the plot is the same. It begins with the people feeling hopeless and lost. They are not just suffering with physical hunger & thirst. Their soul is withering. Next the people cry out to God for help. This is followed by God delivering them from their distress. And finally, the people encourage thanksgiving and gratitude toward God.
Several things strike me about this story. First, like I said earlier, this was written about their experience of God rather than what they wanted God to do. Second, God delivers them only after they call out for help. And third, God’s deliverance does not magically transport them out of the desert. Rather, God’s deliverance was to help them along the way.
So let’s look at these pieces a little further. When we read this psalm, it tells stories of the people in the wilderness and deserts. It’s easy to imagine the early story telling that led to writing this psalm. It might have arisen from the experience of the Israelites being led out of Egypt by Moses. They traveled and searched and kept getting lost. They called out to false gods and idols for help but still were lost. It was only with the help of the one true God that they found their way. Or maybe the story was of shepherds traversing wild terrain looking for grazing lands and becoming lost. They seek and try all the ways they know to get their bearings but are still lost.
Regardless of the story’s origins, the images make sense given the history of the people in that era. Yet, even sitting here we can imagine such an experience today. Though few of us have been lost in a literal desert, many of us find ourselves lost in the wilderness of finding or keeping a job. We feel lost in a maze of ethical decisions like whether to choose financial security for ourselves at the expense of others. False gods offer us quick and easy ways to get rich but never ask what God’s calling on our life is.
Others of us have confronted illnesses that leave us feeling in the dark, struggling to make sense, find answers, and build a new path home. We ask questions, look for understanding, and use all our best methods to get our bearings but we are lost.
Still others of us have struggled through traumatic events where we just can’t seem to find our way home. We sit in what feels like a wilderness of sorrow and loss feeling all alone. We grow tired not knowing how to help ourselves and soon we start to feel our soul wither.
And let’s face it, even without extreme events, our day to day lives can feel daunting and draining and like we’re all alone. We try all kinds of things to help make the journey better… to help us find our way. But for all our best efforts, sometimes we still find ourselves in a wilderness, wandering and hungry. We were still hungry for that which only God can provide.
This psalm recognizes that hunger and tells the story of how others that came before us were filled. I find great comfort that this is not simply a prayer for what we want God to do but rather people touched by God telling of the great things from God. I don’t know about you but sometimes my most hope-filled moments are hearing the stories of others and this one is no different. It gives hope.
It is that hope that brings me to the second point in this passage. As they talk about their experience, they say that God delivers them after they call out for help. Why do you think that is? As a hospital chaplain, I often sit with people who feel alone and abandoned. They truly are in the darkest places of their lives. So if God’s love is so steadfast, why does it take calling out for them to experience deliverance?
Maybe the answer is not that simple. This is a story of people who knew God intimately and already believed God was there for them. They were already believers and they struggled like the rest of us. So what are they trying to tell us? I think they are sharing their story from their point of view. Think about it. When we talk about our experience of something, there’s a particular way people talk about the timing of things happening. They talk personally rather than a big picture point of view that might explain how God was always with them but they could not see it. But more importantly, I think the psalmist’s story of calling out to God reminds us that we usually aren’t open to help until we ask for it.
Think of those times when we’re frustrated such as when we’ve been working on something truly difficult. If someone just comes up and offers help, we usually aren’t open to it. I had one of those uncles who would never ask for directions no matter how lost they were. And I once saw someone break 2 bones falling because they refused help in carrying something. Sometimes we don’t ask for help because we’re too proud to receive it. Yet at the hospital I meet people who are too overwhelmed by sorrow and worry to even remember to ask for help. When offered even something simple like water, they refuse because they are too overwhelmed in that moment to receive. We go get them water, a cool cloth, and call their family, all of which they will use. But until they are open to help, they will not have an experience of being supported. They feel alone.
Yet, when we call out for help it is an entirely different matter. It’s us saying that we want and are open to help. It’s us letting go of our ego, our fears, and our walls to be humble and receptive to help. When we call out, especially in desperation, we have our ears, eyes, heart, mind… our whole self open to help.
So it goes with these people of God lost in the desert. They called out and God was there with the help they needed. But what was it exactly that they needed? This brings me to what I find most striking about this passage. What stuck out to me is not that these people were desperate or that they called out to God or that God helped them. What is most remarkable is that this passage tells us the way God helped them and it may not be what we expect.
The passage says that “God delivered them from their distress; God led them by a straight way, until they reached an inhabited town.” God’s deliverance did not magically transport them out of the desert to their destination. Rather, God’s deliverance was from their sense of distress… their withering soul. They no longer felt alone. Though God was already with them before, now they knew God was present with them. Their emotional and spiritual experience of hopelessness was nurtured and they were delivered from their distress.
God also stayed with them and helped them journey on a straighter path that would lead to inhabited towns where they could be replenished along the way. I thought this was an interesting passage so I looked up the history of people finding passage through the desert. What I found out is that there is no path because in the desert, the sand is always moving. Even the sand dunes moved. So the way one group went was not the way another went. What they did was that the leader would get their bearings on the direction they needed to go and they would try to walk a sort of wavy path around the sand dunes. That way they expended their energy more efficiently walking on level ground rather than up and down dunes. The path would be longer but they would not be so tired. So the path they traveled may have made them miss an oasis or small town, thus missing an opportunity for fresh water and a straw mattress.
So when this passage says that God led them on a straighter way that passed through towns, they are not saying that all was easy. Being delivered didn’t mean they were suddenly without work to do. They did not go from roughing it to sitting by the pool with an umbrella drink. And they did not suddenly arrive at their destination. They were still in the midst of a long and perilous journey… but they were not alone. God’s presence in the form of steadfast love stepped in and transformed their experience of the desert.
So let’s linger here for a bit. They clearly understood this as action as God’s love for them. They even said, “Let them thank the Holy One for this steadfast love, for God’s wonderful works to humankind. For the Holy One satisfies the thirsty, and fills the hungry with good things.”
So what happened to them? They found satisfaction and fulfillment along the way. They experienced God’s actions as wonderful works towards them. They were open to help and received it.
But what did this help look like exactly? They don’t say that a booming voice came from the sky directing them. They really don’t say much at all. But they are clear that God was with them along the way.
Honestly, I don’t think their experience of God is much different than our own. When God’s love shines through the faces of other people, if we are open to it, we recognize it as God. When God’s love holds us through the dark places, if we are open to it, we recognize it as God. When God’s love guides us to make decisions that are best for our families and communities, if we are open to it, we recognize it as God. And when God’s love lightens our hearts and fills us with hope, if we are open to it, we recognize it as God.
But the key here that seems to be that their fulfillment and even ours today is that God helped them along the way. So often we pray for things to be fixed. Or we want the miracle cure. Sometimes we desire a change but without all the work. But these people found God’s help along the way.
What do our lives look like when we receive God’s help along the way? Well, it usually means we still have work to do of some sort. But it also means we have something we’re focusing upon. It may not be a destination. Perhaps it is an ideal instead.
Have you ever been involved in one of those trips where everything just seems to go as planned? I think it would be very easy to attribute that to God… and rest assured, God was there. But the times I am more keenly aware of God are when things aren’t going well. Because if we’re open to it, we find unexpected help, meet new people that make our world brighter, and become better people for the journey.
I have spent a lot of time talking with cancer patients during my own treatment. Attitude is what seems to make the biggest difference in how people experience it. I’ve met people who feel like everything that can go wrong will go wrong with them. They feel like the world or God is out to get them. But others who have almost identical circumstances talk of all the great new people they’ve met. They share stories of how they found new interests and hobbies they would have never even thought of otherwise. They share stories of how a certain nurse is surly an angle because she always has the right words to comfort. Life isn’t just happening to or at them. Life is happening with God at their side.
Sisters and brothers, this is a passage about life happening. Life includes the joyous and the tragic and all that lies in between. Not all these events happen because of God but God is in the midst of them and still with us after them. Our job is to be open to God’s help. Our job is to keep journeying. Our job is to share in the journey with others around us. And we do this with hope knowing God is with us all along the way.
Amen
Good morning. It’s an honor to be back with you again to worship. For those of you that weren’t here on my previous visits, my name is Lavender Kelley and I’m a chaplain at Children’s Memorial Hospital in Chicago. I’m a graduate of Louisville Seminary and have been a chaplain in the 4 years since then. Actually, some of your youth recently met Adam Fischer, a classmate of mine from seminary. He is now at Harvey Brown Pres in Louisville, the host church for the youth mission trip.
As a chaplain and cancer survivor, I’m very involved in volunteering for causes near and dear to me. Some of you may recognize that I have more hair than I did last time I was here because I had shaved my head in a fundraising event one month prior to that. Anyway, I mostly just want you to know that I’m grateful to spend some more time with you in this holy time of worship.
Our scripture text that John read for you this morning is from Psalm 107. The lectionary guide for this week chose only to include verses 1-9 & 43. That means you heard the introduction, 1 story illustration, and the benediction. But if we were to read the whole psalm, what we would see might seem more like a full sermon. Because the whole psalm contains an introduction, 4 very similar sermon illustrations, a conclusion, and a benediction.
This Psalm focuses on God’s “steadfast love” or “hesed” as it is read in Hebrew. Scholars frequently refer to this as the model psalm of God’s “steadfast love.” They say this because the psalm in its entirety contains repeated stories of God’s unrelenting love for people. That’s part of what I find remarkable about this psalm. Many of the psalms are written to God as prayers. Those prayers reveal what people believe God should do or how they want to interact with God. But this one is written from a different perspective. In this one, the psalmist shares their previous experience with and of God… how God intervened and delivered them from distress.
Verses 4-9 are the first of those similar stories that the psalmist shares of God’s loving intervention. The writer tells us:
Some wandered in desert wastelands, finding no path to an inhabited town; hungry and thirsty, their soul withered within them. Then they cried out to the Holy One in their trouble, and God delivered them from their distress; God led them by a straight way, until they reached an inhabited town. Let them thank the Holy One for this steadfast love, for God’s wonderful works to humankind. For the Holy One satisfies the thirsty, and fills the hungry with good things.
Within this story and the other three that follow later in the Psalm, there are different details but the plot is the same. It begins with the people feeling hopeless and lost. They are not just suffering with physical hunger & thirst. Their soul is withering. Next the people cry out to God for help. This is followed by God delivering them from their distress. And finally, the people encourage thanksgiving and gratitude toward God.
Several things strike me about this story. First, like I said earlier, this was written about their experience of God rather than what they wanted God to do. Second, God delivers them only after they call out for help. And third, God’s deliverance does not magically transport them out of the desert. Rather, God’s deliverance was to help them along the way.
So let’s look at these pieces a little further. When we read this psalm, it tells stories of the people in the wilderness and deserts. It’s easy to imagine the early story telling that led to writing this psalm. It might have arisen from the experience of the Israelites being led out of Egypt by Moses. They traveled and searched and kept getting lost. They called out to false gods and idols for help but still were lost. It was only with the help of the one true God that they found their way. Or maybe the story was of shepherds traversing wild terrain looking for grazing lands and becoming lost. They seek and try all the ways they know to get their bearings but are still lost.
Regardless of the story’s origins, the images make sense given the history of the people in that era. Yet, even sitting here we can imagine such an experience today. Though few of us have been lost in a literal desert, many of us find ourselves lost in the wilderness of finding or keeping a job. We feel lost in a maze of ethical decisions like whether to choose financial security for ourselves at the expense of others. False gods offer us quick and easy ways to get rich but never ask what God’s calling on our life is.
Others of us have confronted illnesses that leave us feeling in the dark, struggling to make sense, find answers, and build a new path home. We ask questions, look for understanding, and use all our best methods to get our bearings but we are lost.
Still others of us have struggled through traumatic events where we just can’t seem to find our way home. We sit in what feels like a wilderness of sorrow and loss feeling all alone. We grow tired not knowing how to help ourselves and soon we start to feel our soul wither.
And let’s face it, even without extreme events, our day to day lives can feel daunting and draining and like we’re all alone. We try all kinds of things to help make the journey better… to help us find our way. But for all our best efforts, sometimes we still find ourselves in a wilderness, wandering and hungry. We were still hungry for that which only God can provide.
This psalm recognizes that hunger and tells the story of how others that came before us were filled. I find great comfort that this is not simply a prayer for what we want God to do but rather people touched by God telling of the great things from God. I don’t know about you but sometimes my most hope-filled moments are hearing the stories of others and this one is no different. It gives hope.
It is that hope that brings me to the second point in this passage. As they talk about their experience, they say that God delivers them after they call out for help. Why do you think that is? As a hospital chaplain, I often sit with people who feel alone and abandoned. They truly are in the darkest places of their lives. So if God’s love is so steadfast, why does it take calling out for them to experience deliverance?
Maybe the answer is not that simple. This is a story of people who knew God intimately and already believed God was there for them. They were already believers and they struggled like the rest of us. So what are they trying to tell us? I think they are sharing their story from their point of view. Think about it. When we talk about our experience of something, there’s a particular way people talk about the timing of things happening. They talk personally rather than a big picture point of view that might explain how God was always with them but they could not see it. But more importantly, I think the psalmist’s story of calling out to God reminds us that we usually aren’t open to help until we ask for it.
Think of those times when we’re frustrated such as when we’ve been working on something truly difficult. If someone just comes up and offers help, we usually aren’t open to it. I had one of those uncles who would never ask for directions no matter how lost they were. And I once saw someone break 2 bones falling because they refused help in carrying something. Sometimes we don’t ask for help because we’re too proud to receive it. Yet at the hospital I meet people who are too overwhelmed by sorrow and worry to even remember to ask for help. When offered even something simple like water, they refuse because they are too overwhelmed in that moment to receive. We go get them water, a cool cloth, and call their family, all of which they will use. But until they are open to help, they will not have an experience of being supported. They feel alone.
Yet, when we call out for help it is an entirely different matter. It’s us saying that we want and are open to help. It’s us letting go of our ego, our fears, and our walls to be humble and receptive to help. When we call out, especially in desperation, we have our ears, eyes, heart, mind… our whole self open to help.
So it goes with these people of God lost in the desert. They called out and God was there with the help they needed. But what was it exactly that they needed? This brings me to what I find most striking about this passage. What stuck out to me is not that these people were desperate or that they called out to God or that God helped them. What is most remarkable is that this passage tells us the way God helped them and it may not be what we expect.
The passage says that “God delivered them from their distress; God led them by a straight way, until they reached an inhabited town.” God’s deliverance did not magically transport them out of the desert to their destination. Rather, God’s deliverance was from their sense of distress… their withering soul. They no longer felt alone. Though God was already with them before, now they knew God was present with them. Their emotional and spiritual experience of hopelessness was nurtured and they were delivered from their distress.
God also stayed with them and helped them journey on a straighter path that would lead to inhabited towns where they could be replenished along the way. I thought this was an interesting passage so I looked up the history of people finding passage through the desert. What I found out is that there is no path because in the desert, the sand is always moving. Even the sand dunes moved. So the way one group went was not the way another went. What they did was that the leader would get their bearings on the direction they needed to go and they would try to walk a sort of wavy path around the sand dunes. That way they expended their energy more efficiently walking on level ground rather than up and down dunes. The path would be longer but they would not be so tired. So the path they traveled may have made them miss an oasis or small town, thus missing an opportunity for fresh water and a straw mattress.
So when this passage says that God led them on a straighter way that passed through towns, they are not saying that all was easy. Being delivered didn’t mean they were suddenly without work to do. They did not go from roughing it to sitting by the pool with an umbrella drink. And they did not suddenly arrive at their destination. They were still in the midst of a long and perilous journey… but they were not alone. God’s presence in the form of steadfast love stepped in and transformed their experience of the desert.
So let’s linger here for a bit. They clearly understood this as action as God’s love for them. They even said, “Let them thank the Holy One for this steadfast love, for God’s wonderful works to humankind. For the Holy One satisfies the thirsty, and fills the hungry with good things.”
So what happened to them? They found satisfaction and fulfillment along the way. They experienced God’s actions as wonderful works towards them. They were open to help and received it.
But what did this help look like exactly? They don’t say that a booming voice came from the sky directing them. They really don’t say much at all. But they are clear that God was with them along the way.
Honestly, I don’t think their experience of God is much different than our own. When God’s love shines through the faces of other people, if we are open to it, we recognize it as God. When God’s love holds us through the dark places, if we are open to it, we recognize it as God. When God’s love guides us to make decisions that are best for our families and communities, if we are open to it, we recognize it as God. And when God’s love lightens our hearts and fills us with hope, if we are open to it, we recognize it as God.
But the key here that seems to be that their fulfillment and even ours today is that God helped them along the way. So often we pray for things to be fixed. Or we want the miracle cure. Sometimes we desire a change but without all the work. But these people found God’s help along the way.
What do our lives look like when we receive God’s help along the way? Well, it usually means we still have work to do of some sort. But it also means we have something we’re focusing upon. It may not be a destination. Perhaps it is an ideal instead.
Have you ever been involved in one of those trips where everything just seems to go as planned? I think it would be very easy to attribute that to God… and rest assured, God was there. But the times I am more keenly aware of God are when things aren’t going well. Because if we’re open to it, we find unexpected help, meet new people that make our world brighter, and become better people for the journey.
I have spent a lot of time talking with cancer patients during my own treatment. Attitude is what seems to make the biggest difference in how people experience it. I’ve met people who feel like everything that can go wrong will go wrong with them. They feel like the world or God is out to get them. But others who have almost identical circumstances talk of all the great new people they’ve met. They share stories of how they found new interests and hobbies they would have never even thought of otherwise. They share stories of how a certain nurse is surly an angle because she always has the right words to comfort. Life isn’t just happening to or at them. Life is happening with God at their side.
Sisters and brothers, this is a passage about life happening. Life includes the joyous and the tragic and all that lies in between. Not all these events happen because of God but God is in the midst of them and still with us after them. Our job is to be open to God’s help. Our job is to keep journeying. Our job is to share in the journey with others around us. And we do this with hope knowing God is with us all along the way.
Amen
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Abundant Love
Abundant Love <-- audio file of sermon – Based upon Psalm 139
Good morning. Some of you may remember me from last July when I was here but in case I missed you, let me tell you a bit about myself so you might understand where I come from and what I’m doing here today.
My name is Lavender. I’m a graduate of the Presbyterian seminary in Louisville, KY where I met Pastor Kathy but now I’m a member of the United Church of Christ. I am also a cancer survivor so I spend a good bit of time working with causes that raise money for cancer cures. For example, I shaved my head last month to raise money for childhood cancer research. And most importantly, I’m a pediatric chaplain at Children’s Memorial Hospital in Chicago. That’s my full time call where I am continually honored to sit with people in some of the darkest periods and most joyous moments of their lives. Being with families when they feel so powerless due to the illness of their children is in my experience one of those places where the theological rubber hits the road. If what we believe doesn’t hold up in those moments, then we are left wondering, searching, and feeling abandoned. Where is God? Why did this happen to us? If God is so powerful, why is my baby still sick?
These are the questions I hear every day and faithfully attempt to work with. This is where today’s Psalm comes in. Now before you get uncomfortable, let me say that my introduction doesn’t mean that I’m going to tell you hospital stories that make you cry. Instead, the bulk of this sermon centers on love. Love so abundant that it’s ever present, connects us so deeply, and makes every step of the journey worth it.
Psalm 139 is an amazing psalm. It is King David’s song of what it feels like to be loved by God. One commentary refers to this psalm as the “No escape, no regrets, no compromise” psalm because of the story it tells of how wondrous it is to be loved by God. But this is a song of far more meaning than that. It’s also the story of how we, in God’s image attempt to love. It’s how we parent. It’s how we look into our beloved’s eyes. It’s how we engage each other in our more perfect moments. It’s about a present, connecting, and compellingly abundant love.
From the very beginning of David’s song of praise, he speaks of God’s presence regardless of where he’s at, regardless of what’s going on, and regardless of David’s willingness to engage God. God is present because love never leaves us.
The psalmist tells us: “You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.”
That’s a powerful image of God with us. But is that how we experience God. We live in a time where skepticism, cynicism, and doubt often rightfully point to brokenness. And what of the people I encounter at the hospital who feel so abandoned in a dark and powerless place? Is God that present here and now? Without a doubt, yes. I believe there are lots of places and ways to experience God that are both powerful and gentle. In our daily lives we encounter beauty, creation, mystery, love, and wonder that must surely point to God. In the dark places, even though we may not be able to see it at the time, God shines through many of the faces of the people around us. Friends, I’m nothing special and if you tell me you experience God in the sunrise, I’ll not argue with you. I know people who even say they hear a voice they know is God. Now as long as that voice leads them to be more loving and whole, who am I to say it’s not God. God is abundantly present.
But let’s go a step further. How we understand God’s presence also matters. Listen to these words again. “You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.”
I have heard abusers use such language as a tool of power and control over their prey. Abusers inflate their image by talking of how they are inescapable and all-knowing making the abused feel like they are powerless… and worst of all abuse is often framed by the abuser as love.
Now it may catch you off guard to hear me compare David’s psalm to the experience of abuse. But I raise this similarity for a reason. Language can be a tricky thing. Words often sound the same. But what matters is how we experience it. God’s love is present but never imposing or overbearing. David’s experience of God is not that of being controlled but one of being gently held along the way. His experience was that of moving about freely while wrapped in the fabric of God that fit him perfectly so that it moved as if it was part of him. That is nothing short of abundant love.
This brings us to the second element of this abundant love. It is a love that is deeply relational, connecting, and knowing. Throughout this psalm there are a few words that stand out repeatedly. First of all, this psalm uses more I/you language than almost any other. This is basic grammar 1st person and 2nd person stuff. We only use these two tenses together in relationships. David talks about how he and God are connected… how they are in relationship.
Beginning at verse 15, “My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed. How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! I try to count them—they are more than the sand; I come to the end—I am still with you.”
But more than using I and you repeatedly to signify relationship, David goes even deeper. He uses some form of the word “to know” 7 times throughout this psalm. To know… that seems simple enough. I know Pastor Kathy. I know that 1+1=2. But in Hebrew, the word we translate as know, knowledge, knowing and its other forms means way more than just facts. The Hebrew word “yada” is a deeply intimate word. In scripture the same root word is used to talk about the intimate, mysterious way that someone knows their beloved. It’s a word that implies understanding, reverence, and awe. It’s about seeing and knowing so deeply that you can’t imagine anything but loving actions between the two. David felt such wonder that God knew him in ways he didn’t even know himself. He proclaims, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.”
But we do attain it in some ways. Consider how we “know” those close to us like a child or a beloved. Even as we know them more, we see more that they are to become. There is both knowing and mystery woven together. God’s love… abundant love holds all of who we are, all that has brought us here, and all that we are not yet in a reverent gaze so that when we look at someone close to us we say, “I see you so fully in some ways yet ‘Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.’” Ultimately, it is often the mystery of what is beyond knowing someone that reveals the most fullness. For me, it’s that gap between what is known and what has yet to unfold that is most awe and God inspiring. Looking upon that chasm inspires me to want this God love even more because I know that I must surely be seeing glimpses of God’s image in those whom I regard. I must surely be looking at the gap between my ability to love and God’s image in us and instead of feeling small, I feel inspired to love all the more.
Now because it always catches people’s attention in the psalm I feel I must address David’s digression into contempt for the those who hate God… those vile evildoers who curse God and I do believe this section also fits with what true “knowing” is. In verses 19-22 David takes on an almost playground persona of “my daddy will beat up your daddy” as he takes his eyes off God, where they’ve been throughout the psalm, and looks with judgmental eyes upon those he doesn’t understand. Yet he bounces back to placing his eyes on God almost as if he knows something may have been wrong in what he’s uttered. He doesn’t express understanding as to what was wrong but he seems to know God will as he ends with one of the single greatest prayers in scripture. "Search me, O God and know my heart. Try me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."
When I read David’s quick bounce back, I often wonder if he suddenly realized that God intimately knows and loves these other people too. He has a relationship with God that is present even when he doesn’t respond so I imagine that he suddenly realizes that he was singing this song of hate when the only song he needed to sing was, “God, you know me. Please help me feel your presence. Where there is malice in me, show me a more perfect way.” Such a prayer can only be uttered in safety, relationship, and love… abundant love.
This brings us to the final element of such a wondrous abundant love… that of journeying and growing all along the way. I began today by talking about people’s experience of feeling abandoned by God. I need to concede to you that I don’t have clear one liner answers or sound bites that would satisfy Fox News or CNN. I can never tell people why their child is sick in a way that has universal meaning. But I do know they are good people who do good things and don’t deserve it. And even if the parents were truly rotten, no one deserves pain and suffering. So, where is God when we suffer?
Well, like I’ve pointed to, God is very present even when we can’t fully see it. God is most definitely right there with us. I can’t answer these huge questions that have been too great for us for millennia. But I do know that much like we live in relationship with God, we also live in relationship with each other. We, as I’ve pointed to, live out God’s love and that vision in all our relationships. We stand in those gaps and that darkness to help others along the way. We celebrate those triumphs and special moments as we each become more than we were before. We journey together. We journey together in a way that reveals God’s presence. We journey together in a way that reveals God’s love. We journey together in a way that challenges us, moves us, changes us… and is ALWAYS worth it.
Why is it worth it? Verses 13 & 14 tell us: “For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.”
Fearfully and wonderfully made… no matter when or where I read that phrase, it sticks with me. Fearfully and wonderfully made… what is that? I’ll tell you what it is. 6 years ago, my nephew was born. Upon receiving word, I hopped in the car and drove to Tennessee so that I could see him. When I first held him, I was filled with love. A love that overflows because it’s like in that moment I was catching a glimpse of all that he is, all that God knitted together… so full… so amazing, so beautiful. And then in the same gasp I was also aware of all that he would face… troubles, tears, bruises, broken hearts, fears… it all hit me. All that I hoped for him and all that I feared… but in that moment, tears streaming down my face, I knew that our love… his life… all along the way would be worth the risk of broken hearts and bicycle accidents. To be fearfully and wonderfully made is to be all that we are and risk all that will happen, knowing that no matter what happens, it will be worth it.
The families I meet at the hospital, even when the outcome is grave know that no matter what, having and loving that child is worth it. When we look into our beloved’s eyes and risk loving in sickness and health, we do so because it’s worth it. When we reach out to new friends and relationships and risk rejection we are saying that connection and love is more important and worth it. Sisters and brothers, Despite all our fears, the people we love, the passions we pursue, and the ways we seek to live out God’s calling and presence in our lives… these things are ALWAYS worth it.
We are fearfully and wonderfully made. God set in motion a creation and stays with it all along the way knowing that such a relationship may risk unthinkable outcomes. But in doing so, God leads by example and shows that it’s worth it. Our charge is to live out God’s image together knowing it’s worth it. Our charge is to embrace, to uphold, to nurture, to love. Our charge is to be vulnerable to the embrace, to be vulnerable to the nurture, and to be vulnerable to the love others. When we go out into the world, we are to live into the creation God has made us to be. Do this by knowing that we are all fearfully and wonderfully made.
Amen
Good morning. Some of you may remember me from last July when I was here but in case I missed you, let me tell you a bit about myself so you might understand where I come from and what I’m doing here today.
My name is Lavender. I’m a graduate of the Presbyterian seminary in Louisville, KY where I met Pastor Kathy but now I’m a member of the United Church of Christ. I am also a cancer survivor so I spend a good bit of time working with causes that raise money for cancer cures. For example, I shaved my head last month to raise money for childhood cancer research. And most importantly, I’m a pediatric chaplain at Children’s Memorial Hospital in Chicago. That’s my full time call where I am continually honored to sit with people in some of the darkest periods and most joyous moments of their lives. Being with families when they feel so powerless due to the illness of their children is in my experience one of those places where the theological rubber hits the road. If what we believe doesn’t hold up in those moments, then we are left wondering, searching, and feeling abandoned. Where is God? Why did this happen to us? If God is so powerful, why is my baby still sick?
These are the questions I hear every day and faithfully attempt to work with. This is where today’s Psalm comes in. Now before you get uncomfortable, let me say that my introduction doesn’t mean that I’m going to tell you hospital stories that make you cry. Instead, the bulk of this sermon centers on love. Love so abundant that it’s ever present, connects us so deeply, and makes every step of the journey worth it.
Psalm 139 is an amazing psalm. It is King David’s song of what it feels like to be loved by God. One commentary refers to this psalm as the “No escape, no regrets, no compromise” psalm because of the story it tells of how wondrous it is to be loved by God. But this is a song of far more meaning than that. It’s also the story of how we, in God’s image attempt to love. It’s how we parent. It’s how we look into our beloved’s eyes. It’s how we engage each other in our more perfect moments. It’s about a present, connecting, and compellingly abundant love.
From the very beginning of David’s song of praise, he speaks of God’s presence regardless of where he’s at, regardless of what’s going on, and regardless of David’s willingness to engage God. God is present because love never leaves us.
The psalmist tells us: “You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.”
That’s a powerful image of God with us. But is that how we experience God. We live in a time where skepticism, cynicism, and doubt often rightfully point to brokenness. And what of the people I encounter at the hospital who feel so abandoned in a dark and powerless place? Is God that present here and now? Without a doubt, yes. I believe there are lots of places and ways to experience God that are both powerful and gentle. In our daily lives we encounter beauty, creation, mystery, love, and wonder that must surely point to God. In the dark places, even though we may not be able to see it at the time, God shines through many of the faces of the people around us. Friends, I’m nothing special and if you tell me you experience God in the sunrise, I’ll not argue with you. I know people who even say they hear a voice they know is God. Now as long as that voice leads them to be more loving and whole, who am I to say it’s not God. God is abundantly present.
But let’s go a step further. How we understand God’s presence also matters. Listen to these words again. “You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.”
I have heard abusers use such language as a tool of power and control over their prey. Abusers inflate their image by talking of how they are inescapable and all-knowing making the abused feel like they are powerless… and worst of all abuse is often framed by the abuser as love.
Now it may catch you off guard to hear me compare David’s psalm to the experience of abuse. But I raise this similarity for a reason. Language can be a tricky thing. Words often sound the same. But what matters is how we experience it. God’s love is present but never imposing or overbearing. David’s experience of God is not that of being controlled but one of being gently held along the way. His experience was that of moving about freely while wrapped in the fabric of God that fit him perfectly so that it moved as if it was part of him. That is nothing short of abundant love.
This brings us to the second element of this abundant love. It is a love that is deeply relational, connecting, and knowing. Throughout this psalm there are a few words that stand out repeatedly. First of all, this psalm uses more I/you language than almost any other. This is basic grammar 1st person and 2nd person stuff. We only use these two tenses together in relationships. David talks about how he and God are connected… how they are in relationship.
Beginning at verse 15, “My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed. How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! I try to count them—they are more than the sand; I come to the end—I am still with you.”
But more than using I and you repeatedly to signify relationship, David goes even deeper. He uses some form of the word “to know” 7 times throughout this psalm. To know… that seems simple enough. I know Pastor Kathy. I know that 1+1=2. But in Hebrew, the word we translate as know, knowledge, knowing and its other forms means way more than just facts. The Hebrew word “yada” is a deeply intimate word. In scripture the same root word is used to talk about the intimate, mysterious way that someone knows their beloved. It’s a word that implies understanding, reverence, and awe. It’s about seeing and knowing so deeply that you can’t imagine anything but loving actions between the two. David felt such wonder that God knew him in ways he didn’t even know himself. He proclaims, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.”
But we do attain it in some ways. Consider how we “know” those close to us like a child or a beloved. Even as we know them more, we see more that they are to become. There is both knowing and mystery woven together. God’s love… abundant love holds all of who we are, all that has brought us here, and all that we are not yet in a reverent gaze so that when we look at someone close to us we say, “I see you so fully in some ways yet ‘Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.’” Ultimately, it is often the mystery of what is beyond knowing someone that reveals the most fullness. For me, it’s that gap between what is known and what has yet to unfold that is most awe and God inspiring. Looking upon that chasm inspires me to want this God love even more because I know that I must surely be seeing glimpses of God’s image in those whom I regard. I must surely be looking at the gap between my ability to love and God’s image in us and instead of feeling small, I feel inspired to love all the more.
Now because it always catches people’s attention in the psalm I feel I must address David’s digression into contempt for the those who hate God… those vile evildoers who curse God and I do believe this section also fits with what true “knowing” is. In verses 19-22 David takes on an almost playground persona of “my daddy will beat up your daddy” as he takes his eyes off God, where they’ve been throughout the psalm, and looks with judgmental eyes upon those he doesn’t understand. Yet he bounces back to placing his eyes on God almost as if he knows something may have been wrong in what he’s uttered. He doesn’t express understanding as to what was wrong but he seems to know God will as he ends with one of the single greatest prayers in scripture. "Search me, O God and know my heart. Try me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."
When I read David’s quick bounce back, I often wonder if he suddenly realized that God intimately knows and loves these other people too. He has a relationship with God that is present even when he doesn’t respond so I imagine that he suddenly realizes that he was singing this song of hate when the only song he needed to sing was, “God, you know me. Please help me feel your presence. Where there is malice in me, show me a more perfect way.” Such a prayer can only be uttered in safety, relationship, and love… abundant love.
This brings us to the final element of such a wondrous abundant love… that of journeying and growing all along the way. I began today by talking about people’s experience of feeling abandoned by God. I need to concede to you that I don’t have clear one liner answers or sound bites that would satisfy Fox News or CNN. I can never tell people why their child is sick in a way that has universal meaning. But I do know they are good people who do good things and don’t deserve it. And even if the parents were truly rotten, no one deserves pain and suffering. So, where is God when we suffer?
Well, like I’ve pointed to, God is very present even when we can’t fully see it. God is most definitely right there with us. I can’t answer these huge questions that have been too great for us for millennia. But I do know that much like we live in relationship with God, we also live in relationship with each other. We, as I’ve pointed to, live out God’s love and that vision in all our relationships. We stand in those gaps and that darkness to help others along the way. We celebrate those triumphs and special moments as we each become more than we were before. We journey together. We journey together in a way that reveals God’s presence. We journey together in a way that reveals God’s love. We journey together in a way that challenges us, moves us, changes us… and is ALWAYS worth it.
Why is it worth it? Verses 13 & 14 tell us: “For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.”
Fearfully and wonderfully made… no matter when or where I read that phrase, it sticks with me. Fearfully and wonderfully made… what is that? I’ll tell you what it is. 6 years ago, my nephew was born. Upon receiving word, I hopped in the car and drove to Tennessee so that I could see him. When I first held him, I was filled with love. A love that overflows because it’s like in that moment I was catching a glimpse of all that he is, all that God knitted together… so full… so amazing, so beautiful. And then in the same gasp I was also aware of all that he would face… troubles, tears, bruises, broken hearts, fears… it all hit me. All that I hoped for him and all that I feared… but in that moment, tears streaming down my face, I knew that our love… his life… all along the way would be worth the risk of broken hearts and bicycle accidents. To be fearfully and wonderfully made is to be all that we are and risk all that will happen, knowing that no matter what happens, it will be worth it.
The families I meet at the hospital, even when the outcome is grave know that no matter what, having and loving that child is worth it. When we look into our beloved’s eyes and risk loving in sickness and health, we do so because it’s worth it. When we reach out to new friends and relationships and risk rejection we are saying that connection and love is more important and worth it. Sisters and brothers, Despite all our fears, the people we love, the passions we pursue, and the ways we seek to live out God’s calling and presence in our lives… these things are ALWAYS worth it.
We are fearfully and wonderfully made. God set in motion a creation and stays with it all along the way knowing that such a relationship may risk unthinkable outcomes. But in doing so, God leads by example and shows that it’s worth it. Our charge is to live out God’s image together knowing it’s worth it. Our charge is to embrace, to uphold, to nurture, to love. Our charge is to be vulnerable to the embrace, to be vulnerable to the nurture, and to be vulnerable to the love others. When we go out into the world, we are to live into the creation God has made us to be. Do this by knowing that we are all fearfully and wonderfully made.
Amen
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
A Prayer Along The Way
God, we’ve made it here… even though we don’t yet know what here means. Thank you for being with us to this point and all that you’ve done to get us to this place.
Please continue to walk with us and show us what this time holds. We need direction, patience, and nurture along the path. Help us to see those things that will sustain us as they come our way. When we miss an opportunity of blessing, help us to keep our eyes open for the next. When we are tired, lead us to peaceful slumber. When we are frustrated, give us a listening ear. When we are scared, wrap us in your love. And when we need laughter and joy, help us to dance with the love that carries us all along the way.
Gracious God, most of all, help us to come through this time with grace and land on the other side with wisdom.
With hope and love we pray, Amen.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Resurrection... Now and Always
As a Christian I've struggled to make the resurrection meaningful and real. Even as a cancer survivor, it does not always seem to make sense. But resurrection is not about mere survival. Resurrection is about transformation, thriving, and a lived life beyond our previous imagination. May we all experience resurrection now and always.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The Best Chaplain I Ever Did Know
As you probably I know I am a chaplain in a pediatric hospital. For the sake of clarity, let me define the role of hospital chaplain in general terms. A chaplain is a clergy person who regardless of their own beliefs, supports the spiritual and emotional needs of patients, families, and staff in a hospital. That role can look like advocacy around poverty or race issues or it can be more like sitting in the dark silence with someone when words fail us. The role is diverse and always changing.
I came to this profession because of a deep sense of calling combined with some strong gifts and skills for the job. But where did these gifts and skills come from? The easy answer would be to say God. But the truth is I had a great teacher. I learned from the best chaplain there ever has been. His name is Bear Bear.
Bear Bear is my stuffed bear that I’ve had since Valentine’s Day 1976. If you ever meet him, you’ll realize that he used to be white with a red belly but now he’s dirty beige and kind of burgundy. He’s endured many surgeries (repairs), has a broken eye, a missing mouth, and his fur is rubbed thin in places. If you’re familiar with The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams, you’ll recognize that he is “real” because he has all the signs of being truly loved.
Anyway, all of the most important things I know about being a good chaplain I learned from Bear Bear. First of all, he is an amazing listener. Whether I was crying my eyes out or just chatting, he never flinched. He paid attention without judging, interrupting, or becoming distracted. I could see it in his eyes. He looked deeply into me as if to say, “no matter the words coming out of your mouth, I understand and love you.”
If Bear Bear’s empathy came through in his listening, it was most pronounced in his intuitive presence. He knew what I needed. Whether it was appropriate use of touch, distracting play, or wiping my tears, he paid attention to what the moment needed. He seemed to have an intuitive sense about when the right time was to hug and just be with me or when it was time to gently guide me into doing something different. I’ve come to believe that intuition is partially about how our brain works. But it is more a matter of truly being with someone so that all the contextual pieces form a clearer picture in that moment.
Bear Bear demonstrated his intuitiveness but more importantly, he paid attention to what that inner voice told him. He acted with both assuredness and gentleness. If there is a definition of pastoral authority, that is it. He was bold to reach out but soft to the touch. He was firm in his beliefs but nurturing to my development. He gave of himself but claimed personal time with friends (he played very well with others from the toy box). He looked for new ways of helping but honored our familiar traditions. Bear Bear offered who he was and what he could in whatever situation arose.
Gleaning from the lessons Bear Bear taught me, I’ve learned to communicate through my body language that I care, to truly sit in the moment with people so that my movements are purposeful, to listen to my inner voice and act accordingly, and so much more. As I consider everything I am as a chaplain, I first own a debt of gratitude to my mentor, guide, and friend Bear Bear. Thank you Bear Bear.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The Moment That Matters
Recently a child died unexpectedly while admitted to the hospital. Because it is rare to have anything unforeseen happen at our hospital, the staff experience these moments as difficult to reconcile. I hear “what if” questions from the most brilliant and competent of care providers. I also find myself asking how I could have met the spiritual and emotional needs of the family and staff better. Those questions are perfectly reasonable. We have a hospital culture that invites us to always grow and become more than we are. So, these questions come from a place of recognizing that we can always do something better. But will the growth from that process necessarily change the outcome of such situations?
It might but that does not need to be our only focus. Our job, regardless of the specifics of our functions, is to enter into particular moments in time where we engage all the dynamics and variables of that moment bringing who we are and what we can offer. That sounds like a lot but it is exactly what we do every day. Working in a hospital, regardless of the position, is very much about being engaged so that we see the patterns and needs as they emerge. We utilize our senses, training, and one another to produce the best outcomes for our patients and families. Yet, we don’t always get the result we want.
Shortly after this child died, I was talking with one of the staff as she asked the questions of what could have been done differently. Yet, I sensed in her a darker sense of guilt and doubt that I’ve watched haunt nurses and doctors to the point of leaving the profession. As we spoke, I asked her, “What would it have really taken to create a different outcome for that child?” She looked at me puzzled so I answered the question for her. I said, “I believe you did your absolute best in that small moment in time that you were with the patient. That moment was preceded by many many moments where other decisions would have had to have been made in order for your moment to be different. It’s like walking in on an elaborate pattern of dominos falling. You only get to see a small section but the dominos have been hitting one after another for a long time. You did exactly what you could in that moment.”
What I told her is true. When I look at the medical realities of the patient, I see a series of events that cascaded toward that one moment where she died. Our staff entered into a critical moment for that child and provided world class medical care that honored her and her family. We worked hard as individuals of various disciplines and as a team. Yet, we were not able to save the child. Why? Did someone do something wrong? Not in that moment. Sure, there are little things that we can improve upon. For example, I wish I had arrived faster to support the family. But I didn’t because there are many needs and as a chaplain, I triage needs just like the clinical staff.
I’m not saying that medical mistakes never happen because we all know that they do. Nevertheless, that was not the case in this moment nor has it been the case in any moments I’ve witnessed. Yet, I continue to encounter staff that internalize the traumatic nature of such a loss and become haunted by its memory.
We enter moments. We can’t be responsible for all the other moments that lead to that one. We must have grace for ourselves and recognize our limits. This grace is certainly akin to God’s grace. We are always in the presence of moments with God and all creation where we are limited in our influence because there is so much more that has happened and will continue once we’re gone. We are truly part of an elaborate, always unfolding, pattern of dominos that drop and create the next moment and the next moment and the next moment. May we always enter the moment.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
The Pinhole by Lavender Kelley
A young one was lost, wandering in the dark. Occasionally, she would bump into others who also roamed. But, they did not realize she was lost. They did not understand that they were lost as well. A few of them believed they knew the path and took her with them. She trusted them and went where they went. However, with time, she always ended up alone and even more lost… a little more afraid than before with a few new injuries that told of her journey through the dark.
Once in a while, she thought she could see a distant pinhole in the dark through which light shown. She tried to make the journey to look through the pinhole, but each time the great chasm of darkness, her painful injuries, and vexing fears made her lose sight of the light. Sometimes she stopped when she met some who had been hurt badly. She tried to help them. But when she did, her own injuries got worse and the pinhole seemed even farther away.
Eventually, she came to see the pinhole less and less. Sometimes she doubted there was any light at all. She imagined that she was abandoned in the darkness as a way of punishing her. She did not like the way thinking about that made her feel. She liked to sit and imagine what wondrous things there were outside the darkness. From time to time, that gave her hope but the hope would quickly vanish into the darkness. Mostly, however, she just felt trapped, believing that she deserved the darkness and that she would never know anything more of the light than the image of the pinhole that eluded her.
One day, feeling desperate, she moved through the darkness as quickly as she could. She called out names of those that might know of the light. Someone heard her, but he did not know anything of the pinhole. Wanting to help, that one called to another and then another. In a matter of moments, she was passed through the darkness along a corridor and found herself with someone different than the others she had met. Rather than tell her that she was lost and just needed to follow someone that “knows,” this one listened to her share her journey and the hope for peering through the pinhole. After hearing this courageous account, this new one held her tightly. She wept in the embrace. This was not like the holding of the darkness that always felt cold and unwelcome. This embrace was warm, inviting. There was something very different about this feeling. She knew that she was safe. She knew that she was loved. And then her eyes opened.
She immediately understood that it had not been a pinhole in the distance that she had seen all this time. Rather, it was the light around her trying to enter her eyelids. At first she felt shame. She cried out, “Why did I not just open my eyes? I would not have all these gashes and bruises. See, it is my fault!”
This one held her hand and said, “It is not your fault. No one held you tightly enough for you to know. No one told you. All you knew were the others with their eyes closed.”
Suddenly, she realized that this one was not just right in front of her. This One was everywhere… even in her. That pinhole had not only been the light trying to show her the way out of the darkness. It had also been her light trying to illuminate the darkness for them all.
She heard the One speak. “You will still hurt, but you will also find true rest. Rest, my little one. Rest in the light and do not fear the dark. We are One and never alone.”
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Helping Children Cope After Traumatic Loss
Recently, I was asked for advice on what to do with children on a significant date in the life of a grandparent who committed suicide less than a year ago. The questions were about whether to involve their children ranging in ages from 7-12 in rituals and sharing as well as how to talk with them. The parent also shared with me details of how each child tends to process, communicate, and share emotion. The following is my response to that person with appropriate edits to protect the family.
[Friend],
You’ve been in my thoughts and prayers. No death is ever easy but some are harder and leave us with more questions than others. Suicide is usually among the hardest for everyone to make peace with, not just for children. So, let me start by saying that I hope you are finding the support you need. Maintaining all your roles as parent, spouse, child, and so much more is incredibly difficult in the midst of grief, especially when it is traumatic and unexpected.
Talking to kids about death is a significant part of what I do for a living but telling you for certain how to handle it is impossible. Every child is different and you obviously know that because of the way you describe them. So, I suggest you give yourself credit and trust your intuition with them.
From what I know of you and [your spouse], you are open parents who talk in age appropriate ways to your children. But as a reminder, it is best to use consistent, direct wording like “dead” or “death” because you don't want this to be confused with other types of leaving. But a difficulty you face is that [your oldest child] is now processing from a combination of abstract and concrete thinking whereas [your youngest child] is still a concrete thinker. This may mean having conversations with them at different times so they can each ask and get what they need. Personally, I avoid theological messages like “God needed him in heaven” because it gives kids painful messages they can’t process about their own safety here and now. But it is okay to talk about “being with God and Jesus in heaven” if that is what you believe.
Most importantly, when they are ready, answer their questions and talk to them about it. Every kid is different so those questions will come at different times. You can encourage questions without forcing the conversation. But when one of them does ask questions, be prepared to answer the tough ones like when will grandma, mommy, daddy, siblings, and self will die. Try never to act shocked by their questions because they’ll interpret it as something being wrong with their questions. Sometimes they ask truly difficult ones like “what did he do wrong that he killed himself?” or “if I die, will you replace me?” These are questions that need straight answers. Listen for what the underlying need or fear is and just answer them in simple, honest ways.
Now that I’ve gone on (maybe too long) about how to talk, let me get to your specific questions about what to do on these significant dates like birthdays, death anniversaries, and such. I appreciate you “not wanting to put any emotions on the [the children]” but they need to see the wide array of emotions you have AND witness you handling them appropriately. In part, this is done by you having conversations with [your spouse] (perhaps even including them) where you share your thoughts and feelings but only go as far as they can handle. It will give them courage to handle their own emotions to witness you two doing the same.
As for what specifically to say or do, do whatever is natural and meaningful to you and your family. Kids need to learn that rituals and remembrances are a way we hold onto people in a healthy way. If it is meaningful for you to tell stories, then do that. It you prefer to do something else, please do. What’s important is that the children see you as facing your grief and dealing with it rather than avoiding it. But also give room for them to grow into and prefer other rituals of their own. Some kids like to write letters or draw pictures for the person who has died. Anyway, whatever is done, you should emphasize that this is about BOTH honoring/loving [the grandparent] AND helping ya’ll to express your feelings. With time they will come to understand that those activities ultimately make your memories of [the grandparent] more meaningful.
Again, I want to encourage you to trust yourself while also listening to your inner needs. Kids are more in tune with sensing comfort and discomfort than they are your specific words. If you are uncomfortable, please do what you need to grow through that. But also just be honest with them about why you are uncomfortable. That will help them more than trying to hide your discomfort.
I hope this has been helpful. You will continue to be in my prayers. Please let me kwon I you need anything. I also have some great children’s resources like coloring books, books for various reading levels, and support information if you are interested. I could ship you anything you think might be helpful.
Grace and Peace,
Lavender
P.S. Now that I read back through this I think the one thing I didn't say that I wanted to is that they are looking to you to learn how to grieve. You are their guide and they will likely be able to handle whatever rituals or events you include them in as long as you prepare them for it. Make sure they know what to expect. I know it sounds odd to tell someone step by step what will happen at a ritual but kids need to know in advance what concrete steps to take or they are more caught in their fear than their wonder. It is in wonder that rituals bear their greatest gifts.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Sorrow and Hope: A Response to Civil Union and Christian Marriage Committee Preliminary Report
Yesterday the Civil Union and Christian Marriage Committee released its preliminary report. I am deeply grateful for their work and can read in the text the earnestness and love of Christ that the members posses. They were charged with studying “the following, including any policy recommendations growing out of the study:
- the history of the laws governing marriage and civil union, including current policy debates;
- how the theology and practice of marriage have developed in the Reformed and broader Christian tradition;
- the relationship between civil union and Christian marriage;
- the effects of current laws on same-gender partners and their children; and
- the place of covenanted same-gender partnerships in the Christian community.”
Having read and reflected upon this report today, I believe they delved deeply into all of their charges. Yet, it is the last one where I always felt like the most crucial issues of this discussion lay. What is the place of covenanted same-gender partnerships in the Christian community? The committee that studied this issue even sought input from the body at large and I along with many others offered submissions. The committee findings and statement are found from page 23-28 of the report.
This is a deeply personal issue for me. I am a lesbian clergy woman who is currently leaving the PC(USA) because of a lack of “place” for me, my wife, and our daughter. We are not leaving because we found no place in congregational life or lacked in fellowship with Christian sisters and brothers. On the contrary, we’ve found much love and support in the church. Christ’s love, welcome, and reconciliation has been alive with us and will continue in these relationships that live beyond denominational confines. Our departure is due to conflicts over polity rather than relationship or theology.
The committee’s mandate also called on them to research the history of marriage which they did well. In fact, I found my own beliefs echoed because I find that marriage as we currently understand it in the church and western culture is a fairly young phenomenon. Biblical images of marriage do not look like what we practice nor is it what most people want for themselves or their children.
Yet, there are deeper messages in the Bible, Christian history, and beyond that tell us not so much about contractual marriage as much as they teach us about covenant relationship. As seen from the beginning of Hebrew Scripture, we are a people who have a deep understanding that God loves us and covenants with us through all times and in all conditions. It is God’s example that we mimic through our interpersonal and intimate relationships. We are always seeking to cultivate the love and growth that covenant relationship nurtures, the love that God instills within us.
This belief is constantly reinforced as I find that most people are doing the best they can to live out that spark of love that is within them. We seek to connect and develop that love through relationships as best we can understand them. Nevertheless, this is a daunting task even in the most supportive circles because we bear so much brokenness and it stunts our ability to cultivate love that nurtures and heals. However, brokenness has not stopped our efforts to deepen love nor will it ever. We join together each day seeking to live out God’s presence and love in this limited yet beautiful life.
This is the story of my growth in Christ and growth within the PC(USA). My church family has been the home I never had growing up. They showed me that more excellent way which included nurturing God’s calling within me to become a pediatric chaplain. Moreover, it is because of Christ’s healing love that I received through others that I was able to cultivate such a remarkable love with my wife Kim and become a parent to Susan.
I suppose that I am not writing this as much in response to the details of the committee’s report as I am in sadness that I must leave a church that always amazes me and fills me with awe. I read this report with tears streaming. Tears of gratitude for all the people I love and love me within the PC(USA). Tears of loss for hopes and dreams that were cultivated brought to fruition within the PC(USA). Tears for a future, at least for now, where I am no longer in the PC(USA). I grieve the loss of a home so beloved that it has taken me years to make the decision to leave.
This report and the committee behind it bear witness to what and who we are when we allow the diversity of the body to work through the Spirit. I am proud of the committee members and their work. Furthermore, I’m deeply grateful that for many same-gender couples, there is a place in the PC(USA) where relationship and connection within the body of Christ is held in higher esteem than conflict and misunderstanding. As we move forward, please know that my constant prayer is found in the committee’s words. “Together, we are the body of Christ, called to live into our Christ-reconciled life together, acting in a manner that lives out our confession ‘Those whom Christ has joined together, let no one separate.’” Amen
Link to preliminary report: http://www.pcusa.org/oga/newsstories/final-prelim-report-civil-union-marriage-spec-cmte-091809.pdf
Response by my friend and Covenant Network National Organizer Tricia Dykers Koenig: https://app.e2ma.net/app/view:CampaignPublic/id:10488.2407656093/rid:3dc4dabfe5bf4a1b5bc41bf718a351bf
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