The power of “pulling up a chair” is the most important thing I’ve learned about being a hospital chaplain. When I pull up a chair at a patient’s bedside, I send a signal that I care enough about them to sit with them, look them in the eye, hear their story, hold their hand and minister to their spiritual and emotional needs. There is no timetable when I pull up a chair.
For 38 years, I’ve been a youth pastor, dormitory dean, academy Bible teacher, choir director, academy chaplain, college chaplain, university religion teacher, K–12 principal and senior pastor. I thought I had a good grasp on all facets of what it means to be an employee of a faith-based institution. Then I became a hospital chaplain.
I had visited lots of people in the hospital. Isn’t chaplaincy just visiting people in the hospital? What does it mean to minister to patients as a hospital chaplain? Here are a few revelations I’ve had since responding to this new calling.
Each patient room is a unique experience.
As a pastor, when I visited church members in the hospital, I had some frame of reference for who they were — common ground to help me relate to their situation. As a chaplain, when I walk into a patient room, all I know is what's on their chart: physical malady, religious background, age and gender. That’s about it. Most of the time I don’t share a similar religious background with my patients. I don’t know their family or their story or their fears. I don’t know if they want to live or die. All I know is they are a child of God lying in a bed because something has gone wrong with their body.
Leave expectations at the door.
When I bring an agenda into a patient’s room, I don’t see the patient as they need to be seen. If I steer a conversation to a place that makes me comfortable, a patient may wonder if I’ve truly seen or heard them.
I’m not the fix-it guy.
I tend to want to fix problems. When something goes wrong with my car, I fix it. When there’s something wrong in my house, I fix it. You have a problem? I’ve got a solution. It isn’t helpful for a patient when the chaplain thinks they can fix or provide solutions to their problems. Trite solutions, happy catchphrases and religious platitudes do little to help a suffering soul.
Dwelling together in suffering is living God’s love.
When a patient shares their story, they often share deeply rooted mental or spiritual pain. My nature is to steer clear of or fix human suffering. However, when I dwell with patients in dark spaces and allow my suffering to coexist with theirs, healing, understanding and self-compassion can show up in unexpected ways.
When we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, God is with us. To dwell with another in the valley of the shadow of death is to be like Jesus.
Pull up a chair.
I’m tall — 6 feet 6 inches from floor to crown. Early in my chaplaincy journey, I noticed patients would crane their necks to look at me as we talked. I began pulling up a chair next to their bed so we could see eye to eye. I’ve discovered pulling up a chair sends an unexpected sacred message.
All day patients lie in bed as doctors, nurses, CNAs and therapists move in and out of their rooms tending to physical needs. Clinical providers do their jobs with kindness but nearly always in brevity. As a chaplain, I’m the only member of the care team who isn’t there to do a task — I’m not there to measure anything, adjust medication or dress a wound. I’m there to hold space for a soul. So, I pull up a chair.
Where do you need to pull up a chair in your life and with whom?
