Too Close To Home

I'm on call. The pager buzzes. I jot down the number on my pad then quickly dial. "Hello," says a voice. "It's the chaplain," I respond. "We've had a death here in our unit," she says.


I make my way weaving through the corridors to a familiar family waiting room and gently open the door. Looking back at me is, surprisingly, a familiar face. Something is wrong. I'm used to caring for strangers, bearing their grief when they cannot, holding them up when they cannot stand. But this face is no stranger. "Hi Nathan," she says with a defeated painful expression.


That day I sat with a friend, a co-worder, in a little room during the death of her husband. I looked into her fragile familiar eyes as they looked back at mine searching for strength, for hope. I sat next to her in the same way I've sat next to her for the past four months.


This was too close to home.


There was no stopping the tears in my own eyes as my heart broke into pieces, as her arms wrapped around me, as we couldn't believe the horror--the same horror she's observed so many times before.


But this time she saw grief from the inside out. You might say we chaplains are experts in grief, but when it strikes us there is no bonus relief from its pain. We too must suffer through it.


I could hardly be a chaplain to her, a chaplain to a chaplain. I was a friend, a friend who sat with her in that horribly sacred moment. My heart wrentched. Every time she fell apart, I did on the inside. It was almost too much grief to bear. It was one of the hardest calls I've ever had to take. I shall not forget her eyes, her tears or her desperate embrace.


Dear friend, we love you, and our hearts break with you. Prayerfully, Nathan

Not Sure How I Feel About This

I attended a Catholic Mass today. This is the second I've even been to. I knew that the Catholic church was finicky about who receives communion and who doesn't, but for some reason it's never struck me until now.


Below is what was printed on the back of the service bulletin, and I'd like to know what you think about it.


Guidelines for Receieving Holy Communion


We welcome to this Holy Mass all who share our faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, but while all are welcome here, we cannot extend to all an invitation to receieve Holy Communion. This is not a lack of Christian hospitality; rather, it is the recognition by the Catholic Church that real divisions of faith and practice do sadly exist among Christians. Practicing Catholics who go to Confession whenever needed are invited to receive Holy Communion. Non-Catholic Christians and those Catholics who should not receive Holy Communion (including those married outside the church and those in need of the sacrament of Penance) are asked to pray for a spiritual communion with the Lord Jesus and for the unity of His Church. Those who are not recieving Holy Communion but who would like to recieve a blessing are invited to indicate this desire by crossing their arms across their chests in the Communion procession.


I'm an ordained minister, and yet I am not 'allowed' to receive the Lord's Supper. I'm not sure how I feel about that.


Comments?
.
.
.
.
.
.
Actually, you know what? I do know how I feel about this. I'm offended! But, I'm not in the mood to rant incoherently on my blog forcing you to suffer through reading it (all two of you). So I want to hear your perspective, Christian and atheist.

Pie #2 Review

This is a picture of Heather's second ever home made mouth watering pumpkin pie. In a recent post I raved about how delicious her first pie was. And here I am again to praise pie number 2.

Using a different recipe, Heather concocted her second mouth watering wonder in pie form. This one, a traditional recipe, used less sugar and a fair amount of tasteful spices including ground cloves which gave it a rich flavor reminding me of grandma's thanksgiving ham.

I must say, this one tastes even better than the first which was a custard based kind of texture. This one's fluffier texture and spices combine wonderfully forming a flavorful delicacy which leave you wanting more.

She used the self-harvested pumpkin pie filling left over from last week's pie (none of that canned stuff), and there's still some left over (though not enough for another whole pie). However, all this is only half of the pumpkin, so when the rest is boiled and mashed we'll have ample amounts for yet more pies.

This excites me.

Because Heather seeks the opinions of so many Ashevillians I still have yet to bring some to my fellow chaplains in Spartanburg. I'm thinking I may have to make my own pie to bring to work; however, my co-workers may wonder why it doesn't taste as good as those I've described that Heather made.

I'm hoping for more pies between now and Thanksgiving, in fact I'm counting on them. This one was better than the last and the last one was still great, so you can start being jealous now.

My Will Be Done

The opening scene of Lethal Weapon 4 includes a man with a flame thrower, AK 47 assault rifle and a suit of bullet proof armor. Detectives Martin Riggs (Mel Gibson) and Roger Murtaugh (Danny Glover) decided to simply run over the assailant who hadn't yet detected their presence.


"What if he turns around" said Murtaugh?
"We're gonna will him not to," replied Riggs.
"We're gonna will him" retored Murtaugh?!
"Yep, we will...don't turn around," said Riggs now talking at the metal covered man.
Clasping hands, they both began chanting "don't turn around, don't turn around."


This scene is a funny mix between action and humor. Too bad their willing didn't work, because he did turn around, and they had to leap from the car into the rain as he fired at them.


While on call this past Saturday, I had a lot on my agenda that I wanted to do: reading, blogging, case study, etc. I came into the office much like Riggs and Murtaugh approaching the armored man, willing the pager not to go off.

"Don't go off pager. Stay quiet just for a while. Don't vibrate attached to my belt which causes my body instant anxiety. Don't go off. I will you not to page me."

BUUZZZZ!

Much like they leaped from the car in Lethal Weapon, I leaped from my seat very soon after arriving at the hospital. Throughout the day the pager thwarted my plans as I had approximately 20 calls (!) to attend to. The break down of those calls looks something like this:

2 deaths
2 Healthcare power of attorney consults
3 stroke assessments
2 emergency heart cathiderizations
3 traumas
2 code blues (patient's vitals crashing)
6 requested pastoral care visits.

I began around 9:00am, had time during the day to grab lunch and later dinner, but I didn't get to bed until 12:30am. A 15 hour work day. Whew.

I'm reminded of that old adage that says, "People make plans, God laughs." So my willing the pager to remain silent didn't work. I had a rough day. None of my own work got done. My will was not done. But I was also able to be a calm, caring, pastoral presence for many people that day who needed calmness in the midst of chaos. My hands were held during fragile intimate prayers, my eyes were looked into by one searching for hope, my advice was asked concerning tough medical decision, and I was hugged tightly by a heart broken new widow.

This list sounds more like what God has in mind for us: serving others, and in my context those who are in crisis. It's funny when I look back at my plan for that day versus what actually happened. My plans weren't satisfied; there were other needs to attend to. And when I think back to those hands holding mine, those eyes gazing at me and the arms embracing me, I'm sure glad I was available, glad I could offer a glimmer of hope, glad it wasn't my will being done.

Pink Slips

On the corner of my desk there's a stack of little pink slips of paper. Each time someone dies in the hospital we chaplains must obtain from the surviving family a small bit of information which I record on these pink slips.

It's been four months since this residency started and I've lost count of how many deaths I've attended. Each has been a different kind of somber in it's own way. Sadness is shown, tears are released and sometimes held back. Family members ask "why" questions: "Why did this happen?" "Why did he die so young?" One teenager , after his father was pronounced dead, looked at me in shock like a dear in headlights and asked with dry eyes, "Why can't I cry?"

This past Wednesday while on call for the day and night I attended six deaths among my calls for the day. My emotional reservoir, like the teenager's eyes, was dried up. You could say I was "all deathed out."

I'm on call again tomorrow, and I fear the stack of pink slips will grow again. After all, it's rare in a big hospital for no one to pass away within a 24 hour period.

Attending a death has become something I expect, yet it has not become something I am comfortable doing. I have learned to sympathize, empathize and at times protect myself erecting emotional boundaries. No strategy makes it any easier.

When a person dies, others hurt. There's emptiness, loneliness, shared pain and loss. These are things with which we can all identify, and therefore, we hurt as well.

In this way we all seem a bit more connected. After all, we will all experience death as well as losing someone to which we're close. The pink slips represent something we all must endure. They're symbols of our connectedness, our oneness as humans, our shared experience, our unity. For me, this gives reason to put an end to oppression, violence, acts that hurt others, because in the end we are only hurting ourselves.

These pink slips are reminders that, if in nothing else, by experiencing death and loss you are a part of me, and I am a part of you.

Punkin Pride

Last night, my wife made a genuine, bonafide, homemade pumkin pie. Her first one, and it is delicious!!!

She didn't cop out either by using cans of pie filling. This concoction originated from a jakalantern sized pumkin peeled, chopped and boiled down to powerfully pure product. The crust was from scratch as well.

She cut up and cooked down only half the pumkin which yeilded twice as much as needed. So naturally, I'm hoping this one pumkin will result in four mouth watering pies!

The pie is quite sweet, something I enjoy more than Heather who favors flavor over large quantities of sugar. The recipe called for three items that we opted not to include.

A small amount of burbon was called for, but we didn't want to buy a bottle just to use 1 tsp of it. Not to mention I wouldn't know how to find burbon in an ABC store any better than I would a push-up bra in Victoria's Secret.

To reduce the sweetness, Heather also left out the cane syrup. And thirdly, the recipe called for Cardamom, a rare spice. After visiting two grocery stores to find it, we decided to go without it rather than pay more than $11 for the small bottle.

Three ingredients short, this pie was still the best pumkin pie this pie lover has ever had. A little whip cream on top just before taking a bite of the still warm wonder put me in a number of momentary states of bliss.

I'm looking forward to more of those!

Changing Perspective

Revenge movies, our society is obsessed with them. Basic plot line: protagonist is wronged in some way at the beginning of the film. He or she then spends the rest of the time plotting, "or possibly scheming," on how to take revenge and kill the bad people.

And I must admit, I have been a fan of many movies within this genre. Coming to mind is Taken, Brave One, Punisher, Gladiator, Kill Bill, Eye for an Eye, Double Jeapardy, Payback and the most recent Law Abiding Citezen. I haven't seen all of these movies but many of them. Some, by the title, I can tell are revenge flicks (e.g. Payback, Eye for an Eye).

What is it about revenge that's so compelling? Somehow the film makers are usually able to put the audience on the side of the one doing the most violence. I recently saw Law Abiding Citizen. From an action point of view the movie delivered. The plot was intricate and well thought out. However, the theme of justifiable revenge purvading the film industry was not doing it for me with this movie. I feel I've had a change of perspective.

The extent in which Gerard Butler's character exacted his revenge was over the top and disturbing. Jamie Foxx played a DA who was also not the most wholesom of characters. There was no lovable character to this story to cling to.

I've begun ruminating on our culture's affinity for revenge. The Count of Monte Cristo is also a revenge movie that by the end makes a good point: revenge doesn't make us feel better. At the end of the book Edmond Dantes, having gotten his revenge, is left with a lonely depressed sense of loss. Happiness is an elusive stranger for him.

I wonder if that's why Jesus had no time for revenge? I wonder if he knew that vengence will only kill us from the inside? Jesus seemed to know that the only way to trump our dark desire for revenge is to act lovingly toward those who wrong us. After all, he asked God to forgive the very ones nailing him to a Roman death cross. Dietrich Bonhoeffer called this "costly grace," because it's not easy and it's not cheap.

And if none of this works for you, take Paul's advice who in Romans makes a hermeneutical joke by quoting Proverbs, "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head" (Rom. 12:20). Sounds a bit vengeful.

So, while in the past, I admit I have been entertained by revenge movies, they just don't spin my fan much anymore. I'm sure Hollywood will never quit making this genre; but perhaps they might consider a film about costly grace about loving those who hurt us the worst in order to find healing and wholeness, about overcoming evil with good rather than another kind of self-righteous evil. Though I don't think it would sell many tickets, it would be a pretty radical shift.

"In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." -John 16:33

{Picture: A Change in Perspective by kuschelirmel1}