On Call

What does a person trained in pastoral ministry, with four years experience as solo pastor do when the person has one unit of Clinical Pastoral Education, and no full-time employment with the nice little compensation package do to be faithful in serving Christ in the world?

Good question:

The answer: 
First you find a community that will provide you spiritual and emotional support, acknowledge as many of your gifts as possible and then put your whole self into the life and ministry of the community.

Next, you look around, and see if there is anywhere that needs a chaplain, hoping that it will be in a place that intends to provide a fair wage.

Then, when you realize that the industry standard for Acute Health care settings is 4 units of Clinical Pastoral Education. This is 3 more than were required for denominational service prior to deployment as a pastor. So you look for a setting that has the need for chaplains but lacks the financial resources at present to compensate their department personnel.

And that is where I am. For the present I serve as an On Call Chaplain in such a location.

In that capacity I've been called in to serve in some very special and holy events.

I cover Sunday Day, Monday Night, and from time to time covering for another chaplain other days.

15:00 Sunday... reading...
    "chaplain, this is ICU nurse... we have a patient here, her family and she requested pastoral care.. please come"

17:20 Sunday..I just sat down to eat dinner..
    "Chaplain, this is ICU nurse.. we have a family whose mother just passed away. Could you come to be with them?"

10:45 - Sunday... the Great Thanksgiving just about to start...
    "Chaplain, this is ED Secretary.. we have a family, the 19 year old granddaughter just died..Could you come be with the family?"

16:00 - Sunday..just finished writing...
    "Chaplain, this is ED Secretary.. we have a patient in critical condition, his daughter is here all by herself, could you come be with her?"

10:20 - Sunday...our priest is starting the homily..
    "Chaplain, this is Nurse D in the ED... I have a patient who really could use someone to talk to..can you come by today? It's not urgent, just whenever you can come would be fine.."

18:40 -midweek...meeting just about to begin...
    "Chaplain, this is ICU Secretary... we have a terminal extubation about to be performed, and family present. Please come..."

19:05 midweek...class about to start...
   "Chaplain, this is ED Secretary.... can you come be with family. Patient died and daughter with mother, they don't have any faith community to call on."

08:15 Sunday...the Gospel is just now being read...
     "Chaplain, this is ED Secretary....there is a full arrest being brought in..lots of family coming..can you come please?"


Holy places that require quiet calm, an ability to think quickly but speak carefully. Sometimes the discovery phase in the initial minutes are so raw and intense with emotions I wonder, "Lord, what's happening here, really?" "Who are all these people? How do they relate to one another and what is their connection to the admitted patient?"

This is holy and sacred space filled with the raw intensity of emotions of people whose hearts are broken at the very moment they hear the words "I'm so sorry, we tried everything, as long as we could, but we weren't able to revive .." and the wails and keening that rises up in the space sends a gentle shiver through me. But in that space, at that moment, my job is to witness, silently, respectfully, and be fully present to their grief, not to engage in agonizing or shutting them down immediately. Not to force my theological positions upon their experience. Their experience is wholly theirs as one of loss and initial shock.  My task in that time is to listen for every clue that will help me put together some sense of how they relate to some spiritual framework, some belief system that will sustain them through the coming hours and days.Only after I've observed patiently can I begin to ask questions, to dig a bit into history and belief for the family.

This is so different from congregational ministry in one critical way. In chaplaincy, I cannot presume that my spiritual worldview is at all like the patient and family's spiritual worldview. In a parish I've already built a relationship for dealing with the death, through our worship and study together. In the Acute care setting my role is to assist the family in connecting with their chosen pastoral relationship to continue the grieving process. In the hospital I might be able to directly relate words of comfort due to our shared general faith preference, but not always. I must never become offended if the family indicates a desire for help from their own clergy..in fact, my role is really to help facilitate that connection if at all possible.

Only after a respectable space has been given for their emotions to flow will I begin to find words and voice. Every event presents itself as a free form expression of lamentation at the initial announcement of death. Only after listening and observing can I begin to ask them about the sources of strength and hope for themselves and the departed. Never until I hear them name those sources can I begin to engage them more deeply in finding their solace and hope.

Sometimes I falter, and feel that I have failed to wait long enough in silence to them. "Did I flinch?" I might ask myself later. Flinching means that I exhibited a subtle inability to be calm and present in their anguish.

After every call, I'm filled with a sense of reassurance that this was the one important event of the day I for which I set aside the time to be available..to be On Call, to live out my call, to seek and serve Christ in every person.   The yogic greeting NAMASTE clearly fit the unfolding encounter..The Divine in Me acknowledges the Divine in You. 

Rainbow Connection

I started my morning in the usual pattern...

I got a text from Tim, updating me on his schedule...working a 24 hour car we never know if he will be up all night or have the good fortune to catch a few hours of sleep.

"Meet you at the gym"

"Ok" I replied.

I fed the cat, began to make my breakfast, washed the dishes...

felt a momentary wave of sadness about my sense of unfulfilled call to the priesthood...

and shrugged it off... nothing can be done about that now.

Went to check in on email, news media stream and facebook while I ate my oatmeal.

Ready to head out the door...later than I like but in time to synch our schedules at the gym.


At 8:05 I headed out the door, got in the car, drove down my street two blocks and turned west onto
Del Oro.

I look ahead and am struck by this tremendous full arching rainbow. The beauty is so intense I want to take a picture but hate the development that will be captured in the picture so I keep driving slower than usual so that I can continue to soak in the beauty.  And then it hits me

"Do not let your heart be troubled!" Spirit whispered words of comfort and encouragement.

The Gospel of John bringing solace and hope in the midst of my frustration and disappointment.

Suddenly too, something else occurs to me.

I'm two blocks away from our new residence... driving on Del Oro Road, the "Road of Gold".

"What riches "that exceed all that I can desire"  (words from the Collect for yesterday) lies in the future?"

I cannot imagine. All I can do is rest in the hope found in the story of the Covenant of the Rainbow and the Book of Revelation. All that I can do is be faithful in discipleship with that which has been entrusted to me.

Lord in your mercy, make it so.

"I Bind unto my self this day the strong name of the Trinity. 
By Invocation to the same, the Three in One, the One in Three."
The Breast plate of St. Patrick rises in my heart as I continue on toward my destination.

As I turn to the north, the intensity of the rainbow changes, diminishes, as I shift my perspective in relation to the sun and rain that falls in the west.  The momentary transcendence of the encounter with the Holy also begins to recede into my memory as I continue to make my way, by a different route to my destination..

Waiting at the intersection without anyone behind me and streams of traffic to my right and left,  I hear the notification bell on my phone...

I've already missed hearing one notice come in when I glance down.

I have 2 messages from Tim.

"Got Call"..."At st.m. no bed delay"

Onward to the Gym.

As I travel west on Bear Valley I drive right into the rain shower.. a spring rain, gently reminding me of the days spent in Ireland, and the sweet saying Monseignor Murray offered Tim and I on our wedding day.
"Rain, surely a sign that God will be showering you with blessings."

You have to love how an Irishman can highlight the good in the most common of occurrences for the people of the Emerald Isle, and shared that tradition with the descendants of immigrant Irish Catholics.

Surely we will be blessed
and have been blessed
and are called to be a blessing to others.

Let It Be So, Lord.
Amen

Let it be.

Yoga Toes

Winter is thankfully long past and many transitions have been progressing during the past four months.

After moving from the home which we really conceived of as our place of retirement we have been settling into new daily patterns of living.

Some changes have been very good, and really quite unanticipated.

Gone is my morning walk in the desert.

It has been replaced with a gym membership and resumption of yoga practice.

My first introduction to yoga was during my ministry in Ashton, Idaho. A wise woman of the congregation approached me about offering a short introductory yoga class. She first met the teacher through her ministry to the dying as a Hospice Volunteer. The community interest in the yoga class was enthusiastic.  We started with a six week session in the fall, before the heavy winter weather would create travel problems at night. My own experience was positive. Frankly though, I simply lacked enough discipline to continue on my own after the offering. We repeated the offering again the following year. And again I lacked discipline to keep up the practice. Too many real obstacles to engage in a student-teacher relationship served as the reason for letting it slip. I merely dabbled in the practice, accumulating the equipment and supportive videos but tucking them just out of sight. I became a lapsed yoga student. It was a yoga seed planted in shallow soil.

 

Since our move has placed us in a neighborhood that lacks the same delightful place to do morning walks on the edge of our community, the membership at a local gym seemed the best way to recommit to our much needed and appreciated exercise. The double bonus was the availability of yoga classes.

So now, instead of cramped up tight toes I am developing Yoga toes.

That’s right, Yoga Toes.

Wide spread, supple and steady toes now provide support my Tree Pose. I am feeling stronger, more flexible and finding peaceful sleep with the integration of an evening relaxation practice. I feel more ready each day to walk “in Christ” and to offer presence to others as I find greater physical strength and flexibility.

“As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace.” Ephesians 6:15

Footnotes - Crunch Toes

Miracles

 (Kateri Tekakwitha, First Nations Saint )

The Bible contains a lot of stories about Jesus performing miracles

All good and fine for the folks of Ancient Palestine, but how about today?

What has happened to miracles?

It's a question that gets posed by quite often, not only by skeptics, and atheists, but also by "true believers"!* (I really can't believe I just used that phrase, but it seems to fit under the circumstances.)


My theory (how's that for mixing science with religion) is that miracles occur far more frequently than any of us realize. The miracle exists with or without attribution. More often than not the miracle simply is not noticed because we are looking for external evidence. All too seldom do we remember to count the internal changes that God manifests within us as miracles. Healing miracles wrought changes within not just the physical body, but also the mind and spirit.

Still, we fail to recognize even the purely physical miracles because we have difficulty tracking the evidence, the chain of events which lead up to the miracle.

Here's a story to illustrate my theory.

The story starts out

 "Jake Finkbonner was so close to death after flesh-eating bacteria infected him through a cut on his lip that his parents had last rites performed and were discussing donating the 5-year-old's tiny organs. " 

It continues on to tell how one person, with amazing faith and perseverance came to his bedside with something of a last ditch intervention. The power of faith in God's desire to see health and wholeness restored to little Jake was the basis of the intervention. After every other effort had been exhausted, one believing community began intercession through a soon to be saint, Kateri, known as Lily of the Mohawks, and a relic of the soon to be saint was brought to the boy where he lay in the hospital, so near to death.


Miracles do occur with far more frequency than we ever acknowledge. In fact, I think miracles are like trees that fall in the woods... their sound is cast with a thunderous bang. But they go unnoticed because no one was near enough to crash site to hear it.

Those miracles may be of many varieties:

• Miracles of the deep wounds from broken relationships becoming places of forgiveness after years of determined resentment. 
• Miracles of rescuers being within reach of an accident, and proper treatment being engaged soon enough to revive the fallen, injured or trapped. 
• Miracles of addictions being overcome through the power of the Holy Spirit.  

Many other too numerous to list can truly be claimed as miracles, and with it thanksgiving and praise to God should ascend to the heights of heaven daily. The most important miracles, for which we rarely stop to give thanks to God, is the very miracle of being loved by God; NO EXCEPTIONS
 -----------

*"True believers" are those persons who deeply profess faith in God, and hold fast to the conviction that salvation comes through belief in Jesus Christ as the Son of God, crucified, died, buried and resurrected. They may be tolerant or not, defensive or not, and from any denomination of the one holy catholic church.

Study peace

Several weeks ago I wrote briefly about being commissioned to serve in my parish as a healing minister.


I have not shared how or why I came to the place where I would be open to accepting such a title, but think it would be helpful for others to "hear" the story of my journey.

The story starts with a clergy convocation in Pendleton, OR while I was serving as Pastor.

The purpose of the convocation was focused upon training for Healthy Boundaries in ministry. More pointedly, the training addressed a case within the Conference Order of Elders which had brought great pain to many. Clergy as well as lay members experienced profound injury. 

The continuing Education was conducted by Faith and Trust Institute. The remainder of the day included a listening session and a closing worship service which included anointing and prayer as well as the consecration of Holy Communion.

The day of listening touched a place deep within me. While I personally had not been a "victim" of the perpetrator which triggered the need for our gathering, I did realize a wounded place within myself that was in need of similar balm. I left the place knowing in a new way, through my own experience, that pastoral ministry must be about bringing healing and comfort just as much as it offers a challenge and charge to transform the world. Healing is the source of transformation, the salvation which all the world so desperately needs.

In the period since that one powerfully charged experience I began a quest for information about healing ministries. At first the quest was very spotty. But as time passed I became more intrigued and insistent to make a connection with an existing organization outside the church. In spite of the strong urging from the Holy Spirit to learn about and develop my own healing ministry, I also found more obstacles, or perhaps I should just call them resting places between each exploration.

As I searched for information I was reminded of a long before whispered response from the Holy Spirit; Study peace.
                                                                 SHALOM 

                                                                                RECONCILIATION
                                                PEACE
 
                                                               WHOLENESS 

HOLINESS AND WELL-BEING 

                  TRANSFORMATION 

                                                                          REJUVENATION

When our interim priest arrived, he and I formed an immediate affinity and mutual concern to explore the topic of the healing ministry of the Church with one eye  focused upon the opportunity to develop a lay pastoral team of healing ministers.


Serving as a healing  minister allows me the profound opportunity to be a source of peace, very much in the tradition of St. Francis.

Each week, as I take my place at the Lady Altar, ready with the blessed oil, I say a prayer of thanks for the congregation which Christ has drawn me to become attached to in ministry. I am blessed through their acceptance of many of my gifts. But none quite so much as when I am able to be in prayer with a brother or sister in Christ.

Study peace.... be at peace...bring peace

A is

A is for August

and Ants all around!

B is for Barbara

hunting them down.

Summers in the desert have always included ant invasions.

I suppose those earthquakes that I sleep through shake things loose just enough to give them entry.

Thinking of earthquakes.... seems that we may have forgotten that Haiti still has large numbers of it's citizens living in make shift emergency type shelters, two and half years after their devastating earthquake. Now, to add insult to their vast injuries, tropical storm Isaac is bearing down on the island nation.

C is for cranes
folded and strung


Last August we began an Origami crane folding project. We collected donations for Haiti's rebuilding efforts through the Episcopal Relief and Development. I taught children and adults about the Japanese folk tradition that when someone folds one thousand cranes, their wish would be granted by a crane. Our folding would become a body prayer, a form of art as prayer. The folded cranes would be a visible sign of the community in prayer for the people of Haiti. The time that it would take to reach the goal of one thousand, a reminder of the long process of rebuilding which our Haitian Brothers and Sisters would have to endure. 

The goal of folding 1000 Cranes, as prayers of peace for the people of Haiti was completed in April, just after Easter...

But there is not yet a great arising from the devastation, no Communal Resurrection yet for Haiti.

Most reliable sources say that it will likely take ten years to rebuild the country, perhaps longer..if ever.

C is for cranes
folded and strung
D is for one Thousand DONE.

E is for eternity
the time it takes to rebuild a nation.

F ..feeling forgotten
G is for God
H is poor Haiti
which calls up to the heavens
WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!?!

I is for Isaac
Horrible Hurricane barreling down.

Unfortunate nation. Why must mother nature hit you while you're still down?
 
The People of Haiti are still struggling along.

Our attention has drifted away to other projects; Nets for Life to eradicate malaria.

I worry about ants invading my kitchen.

The people of Haiti, barely aware of the brutal force heading their way, make due day by day without permanent housing, running water, and still carry with them the grief of loosing family, friends, and livelihood.

J is for Jesus
Sent from the Father

King of Kings
Lord of Lords
Merciful savior
Near to us through others
Open our hearts to be servants
People of love
Quick to respond
Reacting with kindness, compassion and love .
Send us your Spirit
Topple our grasping

Unite us in service
Victorious Christus
Warm our cooling passions

What if

What if
have you ever played this game?
The game of imagining
what life would be like
under a different set of circumstances.

The game starts
with some essential
recognition of the
difference between your own
life and some one else's.

A diagnosis...
An uncurable condition..
Treatment to provide comfort
but never a hope of reversal of the condition.

What if I were to learn that I was soon
to become a soul
trapped within a body
with no way to communicate?

Could I continue on living a life of  faithfulness?

Dependent.

Completely dependent

Unable to walk
incapable of talking
yet fully conscious of
all that surrounds me.

Never again to pick up a book in my own hands.

Lord,
Thank you for bodily life
and your presence to
comfort, challenge and inspire.

Free Time

I can remember people telling me I needed to get a life.

The people who told me that always seemed to have plenty of "free" time.

I don't have a job, I have a vocation. I have abundant masses of meaningful ways to connect with people which require scheduling my time to fit their schedules.

Writing, reading, and
bringing people together
for major projects require patience.

A man I am just beginning to know 

in the course of my work 

exploring the possibility 

of starting a community garden 

tells people that gardening teaches patience and humility. 

I wonder, 

do you suppose 

that is why Jesus 

so frequently used 

parables with 

agriculture 

built into them?

Now that I have been commissioned as a healing prayer minister for our parish I am discovering that maintaining spiritual disciplines is all the more important, and realizing a certain sloppiness in my practice

Patience to sit in God's presence is imperative; not an option, not something merely done occasionally. 

No, it must be pursued with persistence, not relegated to the chance occurrence of Free Time.        

Healing Minister

Jehovah Rapha... God who heals

Two and a half years ago I attended a weekend Healing Mission conducted by the Order of St. Luke the Physician.
 
That weekend I committed to engage in a study of the stories of Jesus' healing ministry in the Gospels. The scriptures are full of stories of God's reconciling and restoring work during Jesus' life. What about today?

That weekend in January was one of many places along a five year journey to understand the healing ministry in the Church. It has been a fitful journey, with starts and abrupt stops many times along the way. I signed up as an associate member of the Order of St. Luke but could not make a viable connection.
The obstacles seemed as much directed by the Spirit as anything could. I continued my studies independently, attending many different events named as healing services and classes.

I've always felt a part of my call was to peacemaking, one that included facilitating reconciliation and peace, but struggled relentlessly to find a genuine expression of that call, especially a sacramental expression, something that could be experienced within the context of worship. 

How could I integrate healing into my ministry? Intention to offer oneself as an intercessor for healing ministry is an awesome and scary step. Would I have to be a wild eyed crazy person, like the movie character played by Chevy Chase or those television evangelists? If that's what it would require, there's no way I would submit myself to that type of calling or ministry..no wild eyed evangelist for me!

During Lent in 2011 I had the privilege of framing the question  within a five week course which I taught collaboratively with our Interim Priest, Fr. Paul Price. This course opened up to me the rich tradition the Episcopal Church maintains as a leader in integrating healing ritual into the liturgy.

What I discovered is that Anglicans have been offering a dignified ministry of anointing and healing prayer within worship, at special services, and in pastoral care settings following in the tradition of the early church.

And since collaborating on that course we have offered a weekly healing service with Holy Eucharist. participating in the service offering intercessory prayer and joining in the laying on of hands has been one of the most precious places of ministry during the past year.

This month I asked God, how was I supposed to be faithful to the call that was placed on my heart, and one of the answers was "deepen your healing ministry."

But Lord, do I have enough faith?

The Spirit whispered..."I have given you sufficient faith. Go, be true to the call...you are a minister of healing in my name."

Dry Bones Waiting

To look out the window and read this weeks’ text one might think that God has decided to extend a greater sign of God’s presence among us. If Only….

If only it warmed the body and spirit instead of piercing and shivering us with unsatisfactory cold.

It’s a cold that disturbs and troubles, that disappoints and discourages, leaving my usual inner sense of joy and wonder feeling all the more battered and disabled.

Now more than ever I find myself calling upon the Great I Am to bring restoration and healing to my battered soul. The season of waiting has grown endlessly long, for the limited measure of patience God implanted within my heart. 

 And yet

There is the hope of tomorrow

The red flames and tongues of Pentecost 

Dry Bones rattling and winds restoring life in the community. 

That alone is hope enough to take into the night.

The call will appear clearer, brighter,  after the Spirit of God, blows through our hearts once again.

"Come, thou Holy Spirit bright, 

come with thy celestial light;

come protector of the poor, 

come thou source of blessings sure; 

come within our hearts to shine" 

Latin 12th Century

The 1982 Hymnal, 226