A Community Of…

Off lectionary sermon series on the body of Christ based upon Colossians 1:15-23a, 1 Corinthians 12:27-28, & F-1.0301

Good morning.  Today starts a three part sermon series on being the Church Alive.  You may or may not have noticed that for this sermon series, we’re going to be off the lectionary path.  And what you’re also about to find out is that I’m going to be weaving in pieces from the Presbyterian Church (USA)’s constitution.  But the hope is that all of this, the sermon, our worship time, and the weavings of the Holy Spirit, bring us to a place of looking with fresh eyes and renewed hope at how we can be the body of Christ and the church alive in the world.

So, today is just the beginning.  We’re going to focus on Christ as the head of the church.  But come back the next 2 weeks and we’ll be considering our various callings within the body and how we can be open to and participate in what God is calling us to right now… or if we’re already open to it, how we might make it even better.

Well, I said I’d be drawing from the constitution and I am.  I don’t know if you’ve ever taken the time to read some of this book but you should.  Sadly, what most Presbyterians know of this book is how to spew an alphabet soup of rules that work for or against an idea.  But there is some truly beautiful and amazing theology in here.  Given the history of this document, it makes it even more impressive just how clearly the love of Christ flows through its pages. 

So, hold our scripture readings from Colossians and 1 Corinthians together in your mind and let’s see what the foundations section has to say about how to understand it.  Section F-1.0301 “The Church Is the Body of Christ”:

The Church is the body of Christ. Christ gives to the Church all the gifts necessary to be his body. The Church strives to demonstrate these gifts in its life as a community in the world (1 Cor. 12:27–28):

·         The Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life.

·         The Church is to be a community of hope, rejoicing in the sure and certain knowledge that, in Christ, God is making a new creation. This new creation is a new beginning for human life and for all things. The Church lives in the present on the strength of that promised new creation.

·         The Church is to be a community of love, where sin is forgiven, reconciliation is accomplished, and the dividing walls of hostility are torn down.

·         The Church is to be a community of witness, pointing beyond itself through word and work to the good news of God’s transforming grace in Christ Jesus its Lord.

This brief passage is really quite amazing.  I couldn’t preach a better sermon or hold out a better vision than that.  It’s a whole statement of faith… no really a statement of calling… no more like a statement of having been called and truly heard the word of God. 

So, tipping my hat to the years of history, tradition, and faithfulness that goes into this (F-1.0301), I’d like to use it as the outline for our thinking today.  See, this statement reminds us of just how deeply relational God and creation are.  God doesn’t stand in the distance like a puppet master and we are not islands unto ourselves.  The church is a community of:

·         faith - entrusting itself to God

·         hope - rejoicing in the prospect that God is making a new creation

·         love - forgiveness, reconciliation, restoration

·         witness - pointing beyond itself to the transforming work of God

So let’s start with the first marker of the church.  We are “a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life.”  That’s a pretty powerful statement.  Does it mean that we’re called to go out and be martyrs for the faith?  No, this statement is about the church as an institution verses the church as the body of Christ.  We, meaning all believers, are called to live as the body of Christ, no matter where that leads us, even if it means losing the institution we call the Presbyterian Church (USA) or it’s buildings or it’s holdings. 

We, the body of Christ, are not the stored up treasures of an institution and we should not be bound by them either.  So long as the organization of the PC(USA) is a wonderful and beneficial thing, it can support us, help us join together our resources in more useful ways, and be a true conduit for making Christ’s reign known in the world.  But the faithful wisdom built in these pages (The Book of Order), is that we are to live as if the institution doesn’t matter.

We do this because we are not only a community of faith but we are “a community of hope, rejoicing in the sure and certain knowledge that, in Christ, God is making a new creation.”  Our hope is not in our own ingenuity or cleverness.  It is not in politicians or even religious leaders.  No, our hope is in the way God works around and through us to transform life after life after life.

It is God who pours out gifts on us and then calls us to organize as a body so that they will be used in even more amazing ways.  We “strive to demonstrate these gifts” in the way we are together and in our workings in the world.  But it is because Christ is the only true head of the church, calling, guiding, proclaiming, that we have seen and felt the vision of something bigger when we join together in service. 

Now, take a look here at the statement “The Church lives in the present on the strength of that promised new creation.”  This is a pretty power packed sentence.  It does not say the church only lives in the present because we know that it has been, is, and ever will be alive.  Rather this is about how we can find our way to stay living in the present.  It is in the strength that hope provides us.  We can keep our work focused here because we are emboldened by our hope in the way Christ is timelessly working to make creation new.

And with experiences like that, we know that we are also “a community of love, where sin is forgiven, reconciliation is accomplished, and the dividing walls of hostility are torn down.”  Our lives individually, as families, as congregants, as coworkers, as sisters and brothers are bound in the quality of love we share… a love that we learned from the first lover of creation, God. 

When we are living as the true body of Christ, our work is that of building up each other, healing wounds, soothing anxieties, and even the big stuff of dismantling the walls that divide us from one another and the rest of creation.  The work of love in community is beautiful but it is demanding.  Yet, when we are living the love of God together, moments and lives and communities are forever made different… holy.

And that’s why we are “a community of witness, pointing beyond itself through word and work to the good news of God’s transforming grace in Christ Jesus its Lord.”  Our time together is for the cultivation of and fellowship in the love of God.  But our calling is not to come into the church walls and hang out.  Our lives together should be pointing to something bigger, to God, all along the way.  Our words and works should not be pointing to us to say, “look what I’ve done.”  They point to God to say, “look at the never ending, always faith inspiring works of God.”

See, the point of all of this is that we are living in a body of faith, hope, and love… and a body with a calling to share those and other gifts with the world.  We are all called to be nurtured by and serve in the body of Christ.  We don’t have to worry about the future of it or how it will sustain itself because Christ, as the head, is in charge of that.  But we are called to be the living body of Christ.

The reformed tradition has a way of talking about that called the Priesthood of Believers and Baptismal Calling.  See, we are called to honor all works in the body because they all serve as witness in different ways.  All believers are ministers, just of different callings.  The words “lay leader” or “clergy” and “teaching elder” or “ruling elder” are words of the institution for how it orders itself.  But our work transcends such language, no matter our title or calling.

The person who unlocks the doors and scrubs the toilets is as deeply honored in the body of Christ as the person who leads worship.  Does that offend me?  That I compared the work of a sexton with the work of a pastor?  No, and it shouldn’t offend you either.  Membership and witness in the body of Christ is about commitment in covenant, not status.  And ministry and ministering is about service, not privilege.  My ordination is about my function, not my rank or prestige. 

The things that should offend us are when we stand in the way of that witness and become stumbling blocks to one another’s callings.  The things we should feel anxious about are when we stop loving and working together or become indifferent to the needs around us.  Our real work is to hear and respond to the cries of those in need of the body of Christ.  Our focus need not be on solving every problem but it should be on the call of Christ in each one of us and living that each and every day.  Everything else is in God’s hands.  And thanks be to God for that.  Amen.

Grieving in a War Zone

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?

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

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.