Elder Chaplain Turns 1

Actually, I recently turned 68, but that’s not the point I want to make today …

One year ago I launched Elder Chaplain with this post, having no idea where it would go or how long it would last.  Much to my surprise, this current post is my 28th, and I don’t see things slowing down much over the coming year.  There are a few factors I see as contributing to this.

First and foremost are the patients I’ve been blessed to engage with.  I already knew from experience how unique each patient is—a singular persona intersecting with a singular set of circumstances.  Still, in the process of committing their stories into writing, the idiosyncratic nature of each individual becomes all the more evident.  The variety of human nature and experience seems truly infinite, and endlessly fascinating.  Every day I serve as chaplain, I meet people and hear stories that are unlike anything I have ever known.  The stories write themselves, and no two are even close to the same.

I think it’s also true that whatever stresses send a person to the hospital often bring out their truest and most beautiful selves.  In this setting, it’s no longer possible to maintain the superficial front we often present to the world.  Things are NOT fine, and thoughts and stories that often remain buried come to the surface.  Even the simplest affirmation of these can give a person the permission they may need to inhabit their authentic selves fully.  There are few things more powerful to experience, as a chaplain or a reader, than another human at their most fully authentic.

I write, as much as anything, because that is how I can best understand and process these extraordinary encounters.  When engaged with a patient, it’s not possible (or desirable) to flip into observer mode—fully committed presence is essential.  Only when I get back to my office, or on my way home, do I have the space to ask, “What just happened?”  I find it so helpful to re-immerse myself in the setting with the patient and let the dialogue—and the emotions—rise once again, and put it into writing.  Then, and only then, can I reflect on the full encounter and try to articulate the lessons lying within it.

I keep writing, too, because you tell me that these stories matter to you.  Some say they help them normalize the complex, difficult feelings we have around suffering and loss.  Some say they have made them more compassionate in how they interact with strangers.  One reader commented, “Patients like Clark are teaching me so much!”  It’s so rewarding to share these beautiful people with you.  Another commented, “Thanks for taking me along on your journey and enriching my own.”  This is the essence of accompanying each other through life, and it is the spirit I aim to foster with this blog.

Most readers, I know, remain silent, and I embrace that, too.  I had lunch with a friend last week and Elder Chaplain arose during our conversation.  She said, “I read each post when it arrives, but I’m just not the commenting type.”  In my theology, my job is to honor the patient and to try to capture the movement of the Spirit within the patient, within me, and within the encounter.  When I hit “Publish,” my work is done, and I need to trust in you—and in the work of the Spirit within you—to do with it what you will.

Quite a few have suggested that I should put these together into a book.  I suppose that could happen someday, but I can’t think about that now.  Maybe I’m just too close to it, but I can’t see any overarching themes emerging, and looking for them isn’t a priority for me now.  I find myself content to let each story stand on its own, to take what each has to offer, and to keep walking down the path toward more.  I don’t know where this journey is leading, but I feel deeply accompanied by many, including my patients, my fellow chaplains, all who read Elder Chaplain—and, most of all, by the Spirit that animates us and connects us to each other.  And that is all I need to keep going …

If you aren’t already a subscriber to Elder Chaplain, I invite you to become one.  Just enter your email address and click the “Subscribe” button near the top right of any page, and you will receive an email containing a post whenever I publish one.  Free forever! Your accompaniment is greatly treasured!

3 thoughts on “Elder Chaplain Turns 1

  1. Joe DiCarlo's avatar Joe DiCarlo

    Hi Greg,
    Thank you so much for the Elder Chaplain. Your work and insights have blessed my life. I look forward to seeing your letters in my inbox.
    I appreciate you,
    Joe

    JOSEPH A. DICARLO, MBA
    Global Ambassador
    Medical Teams International

    Liked by 1 person

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