A Holy Place for This Battered Band

“Now for a brief time God, our God, has allowed us, this battered band, to get a firm foothold in this holy place so that our God may brighten our eyes and lighten our burdens as we serve out this hard sentence.” (Ezra 9:8, The Message)


This Holy experience I want to share with each of you. For Pentecostals, this was truly a Pentecostal experience. I don’t know what others may say, think, or call it; all I can be certain of is that this experience will sustain me for many years to come.

It was the last patient of the day, and I almost didn’t go and see the man because he was in such agony. They had been unable to contain his pain that was secondary to palative back surgery that was secondary to metastasized cancer. He had been unable to be moved without screaming, due to his pain, and wanted to just be left alone by everyone. His prognosis is extremely poor and death is imminent. I decided to see him, against his spoken request to the nurse to be left alone, in hopes that prayer might work where medication had not.

I entered the room, and he was lying very still and taking very short, gasping-type breaths. His pain was obvious! I introduced myself and acknowledged his pain and sickness. He was obviously not an American, and I asked him his nationality (this is not something I have ever asked before, and I am not sure why I asked it this time). He told me he was from South America. I asked him what brought him to America, and he told me he had worked his whole life as an international salesman for a locally based company, and they had moved him to America to be closer to their corporate headquarters.

I was about to offer prayer when he asked me what faith I was. When I told him I was Pentecostal, he asked me if I was 'what kind of Pentecostal' (my thoughts at this point – this guy must know a bit about Pentecost). He was familiar with my tradition and stated that he had helped start Pentecostal missions for all over his home country.  He began to talk about the wonder of his work and the importance of the changing power of Pentecost in people’s lives. While he did not consider himself a preacher, his money and contacts were able to start countless missions in the jungles. It is his most rewarding legacy. He seemed to light up as he talked about this work.

It is important that you remember that through all of this he is making small, gasping breaths to try and control his pain. Each whispered word jarred his body and heightened his pain. I wanted to stop him, but there was something therapeutic in his talking about his love for the work of God. There was something pure and holy in this dying old man, who had taken over the entire conversation.

At some point in his talk about his love for the work of God, a change began to take place, and if I might be so bold, it seemed as if angels began to lift up this man and gave him strength. His whispered words of pain became stronger, and it was as if he had become free from the bonds of the world. He began to speak as a prophet and began to speak into my life words of life, hope, and strength. He began to speak out about my ministry as a hospital chaplain and to confirm God’s call and anointing in the path that I am walking. He identified my fears, doubts, and obstacles that would have been impossible for him to know. He assured me that God would go with me, provide for me, and that God had a great work for me to do that would include a harvest of many souls.

After about ten minutes of speaking into my life and story, he reached out his thin, frail arms and laid his hands upon me. He spent another five minutes speaking in tongues and praying for me, asking God for His anointing and blessing upon my life and ministry. God’s presence seemed to flood into the place as he prayed. Surely we had found a holy place together in the presence of God. As the patient prayed loudly and boldly, I began to speak quietly in tongues as an almost physical anointing poured over me, warming me from head to toe.

Spent, the old man collapsed back in the bed, once again gasping small breaths of pain. We sat there together silently for a while, and then he said, “Maybe God has let me live to this point that I might do this one thing more before I die!” Tears were rolling down my face, and I did not know what to say. The only thing I could think was that neither my CPE training nor my education had prepared me for this experience. When I finally turned to leave the room, the one-on-one nurse was standing there wide-eyed in the doorway. When she saw my tears, she quickly turned away and made herself appear busy. These words seem inadequate to describe this experience, but if I live another fifty years, I will not forget this experience.

Faith in God Alone

“...therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.” (Deuteronomy 30:19b)


Sometimes my work has been a constant reminder of the result of the choices we make in life. After three suicide victims and a multitude of other patients that were dying from self-inflicted injuries and/or diseases, it is difficult not to, at least, think about the choices that people are making every day of their lives. In the last few weeks I have seen more arms with needle tracks than I’ve seen in the last 40-plus years of my life. Dr. X told the ICU last week, “We need to get used to the idea that we are no longer a suburban community hospital, but rather the city has overtaken our hospital.” As a consequence of such demographic changes, we are now seeing the drug and alcohol abuse that is characteristic of a city hospital.

Every one of the suicide victims had rough lives of crime, abuse, drugs, and only God knows what else. I stood at the bedside of one such victim who also had brain and lung cancer, that was secondary to liver cancer, that was secondary to Hepatitis C, that was secondary to IV drug abuse. The family hysterically pleaded with me to pray that he be given one more chance to wake up from the overdose and have one more chance to make life right. The basis of their confidence in my prayers stemmed from my praying for the patient’s brother, who underwent brain surgery a few months ago, after leaving our ICU for Big Barnes. The brother recovered; therefore, if you pray for this patient he too will wake up and be able to embrace the family he has rejected. I tried to advise them that God did not always work in such a manner (the doctors said this patient would probably not live to wake up) and that while I would pray to a merciful God, it would be up to that same God to raise him up (or not). It was our job to trust God’s will regardless of the outcome. We prayed, and a few hours later he woke up, was extubated, and was sitting up talking the next morning when I arrived.

Now I said all of that, not to demonstrate the power of God, which is already well established, but rather to illustrate my frustration with the whole situation. I kind of felt like Jonah who preached, had revival with thousands of converts, and then was upset because he got what he preached/prayed for in Nineveh. It certainly seemed to all that God had heard my simple prayer, but within a few hours the patient was wanting (threatening) to leave the hospital so he could get on with making poor choices.

Now I know that God is sovereign, but I had to ask the question, “Why?” Why not the little lady on the other side of the ICU who was sick at no fault of her own? When I prayed for her nothing happened (at least not a physical healing). While thinking on this over the last week, I was finally reminded of my own little sermonette to the family when they asked me to pray. “I would pray to a merciful God, it would be up to that same God to raise him up (or not). It was our job to trust God’s will, regardless of the outcome.” I guess I will never fully understand or comprehend God’s grace and mercy, but I am again assured that Christ will have mercy on whom He will have mercy, and He will have compassion on whom He will have compassion. (Romans 9:15) Further, I may not understand what God does with my efforts, but certainly God knows what is best and what is right in each situation. Ultimately it is my job alone to trust God, to choose life, to encourage my patients to choose life, and that by doing so each of us will live.

Are You Listening?

• “The more you listen in depth, the more you will become aware that most people have relatively little insight into their own lives. Perhaps people’s lives are unexamined because no one is listening to them.” (John S. Savage, Listening and Caring Skills; A Guide for Groups and Leaders, Abingdon Press, 1996, page 33)
• “What you see is often not what is, and what they say is usually not the problem.” (Paraphrase of a quote from Cindy Miller, Counseling Professor at UGST, Couples in Crises Class, 2005)

 The first quote above, read earlier this week, made me remember the second quote that I often heard repeated while attending seminary. The responsibility of such statements sometimes overwhelms me when I think of the implication of missing the many listening cues that the chaplain is inundated with every time he enters a hospital room. Especially when the chaplain is often bombarded with miscues from the nurses, doctors, other staff, family members, bystanders, and even the patient themselves. As well, his own pain, problems, past, family, and more distract the chaplain. With all my being, I desire to be sensitive to what people are trying to, and needing to, say. But honestly, I know my humanity is a problem for the effectiveness of this whole process.

 

While I agree with the words of both quotes, the tenure of responsibility is more than any human can consistently keep up with. While it may seem that I am trying to defend the right or potential inability to not do a “good” job consistently while visiting patients, I assure you that the contrary is true. However, doing the job of listening effectively will take more than education, practice, or instruction. All of these are beneficial and should be taken advantage of, but dependence upon them alone will not produce the results desired. “Have I heard correctly? Am I listening well? Did I hear what was important? Will my response be clearly understandable?” (Emma J. Justes, Hearing Beyond the Words: How to Become a Listening Pastor, Abingdon Press, 2006, page 72.) The more I grapple with being a good listener, the more I realize that it will take an extraterrestrial influence to be able to do what I desire and is needed.

 

As a Christian chaplain, I am daily made aware that “that something needed” is available in the presence of God’s Spirit. Only with God’s Spirit preceding him and abiding with him can the chaplain walk into room after room of devastation, sickness, disease, heartache, and death and be able to repeatedly listen with a depth that will help him to assist the patient in becoming more insightful of their own lives. Such deep listening will enable the chaplain to guide the patient into their own encounter with the Spirit by reexamining their own spiritual journey. I am reminded of the words of the Apostle Paul that, when he was weak, Christ was made strong (2 Corinthians 12:10). My prayer is that in recognizing my weakness and knowing I can never consistently be a 5.0 chaplain, or even a consistent 3.0 chaplain, Christ’s Spirit might be strong in my ministry. That through Christ, which strengthens me, I can do all things (Philippians 4:13), and the more I am dependent upon His assistance, the better the chance of having an empathy score between 3.0 and 5.0. My greatest desire is that His Spirit would go with me while I do my human best and make up the difference. It is only with this faith I can continue to go from room to room…