Sermon for the Fifth Sunday of Easter

This morning was my last sermon at my field ed placement at St. Alban's Episcopal Church.  I used this sermon to summarize my experiences at St. Alban's.  The parish has been rocked by deaths, illness and major surgeries and I hoped that the parishioners would be able to find strength in the words of this mornings Gospel reading.  The text of my sermon is below.  I look forward to hearing your comments on it.

The Fifth Sunday of Easter
Acts 11: 1-18
Psalm 148
Revelation 21:1-6
John 13:31-35

Reflecting and studying the readings from this morning, I thought Wow, I think I can write a sermon on the Gospel reading without a problem. I can talk about Love and everything will be perfect. In fact I had a sermon about half way written, but like many things in my life, it was not that easy. You see, the reading from Revelation kept coming back to me. It kept nagging at me. How can the writer honestly say, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more?” We live in a world where gunshots ring out, drugs are sold, and peoples’ lives are changed forever. We have become desensitized to the grim reality that our newspapers, and TV are filled with scenes of people dying, crying, and in pain. We do not need to look at the greater world for examples, here at St. Alban’s, we have seen our fair share of mourning, crying and pain. We have experienced deaths, surgeries and illnesses among us and the surrounding community. Humanity is still suffering, we are crying, and full of pain. It seems like the words in this passage are wrong. But they are not. The images contained within Revelation are written to describe the new order and we are still living as members of the old order, waiting for Jesus to return to this world. Since we have not experienced the second coming, we must look other places to find answers to our questions.

Today we celebrate the fifth Sunday of Easter. The time when Jesus has been resurrected and was walking among his disciples. A few weeks ago, we heard the story of Thomas, doubting whether the person who entered the room was actually Jesus. In response Jesus told Thomas to put his fingers in the holes in his hands and feet and to feel the wound on his side where he had been pierced. Even in the resurrected Christ, the woundedness and pain are still present. The physical signs of Jesus death are still visible. Even in the resurrection, the cross is never removed from our history. The cross and all the pain, doubt and suffering that goes with it will never be removed from us. Christ was crucified on a cross and that we can never forget. The pain from the nails on his hands and feet, the piercing wound on his side will always be present. The resurrected Christ made sure to tell us, his followers, that the cross is a part of our history. But while on the cross he also tells John to take care of Mary and for Mary to take care of John. Even as Jesus was on the cross dying, He wanted to ensure we understood how to love one another.

Thomas Merton is quoted as Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get – only with what you are expecting to give – which is everything. This is exactly what God did for us. God gave Jesus because he loved us, his creation, so much. As we look at the Gospel reading for this morning, we hear the final discourse between Jesus and his disciples. Judas had just left to betray Jesus, and Jesus is sitting talking to his disciples. They have shared a meal in which Jesus spoke of a new covenant. Then after dinner, He is once again trying to help the disciples understand that very shortly he will give everything including his life for the love of humanity. He says, Where I am going, you cannot come. Up until now, Jesus has alluded to his mission and the disciples have never understood. This is yet another example of the disciples not understanding. They still don’t understand what exactly he means. In fact the passage directly after this is when Peter asks Jesus, Where are you going? It seems the disciples are more interested in understanding what is happening to Jesus then listening to what he is saying.

For us, this passage is important today for two reasons. The first reason is due to where Jesus is going and the second because of what Jesus was saying. Jesus is preparing for the trials he will face shortly. Within a few short days of this discourse, Jesus will be arrested, tried and crucified. Jesus will give up his life for the love of humanity. But more importantly, Jesus offers a new commandment for his disciples. Jesus commands his disciples to love one another. But not just love one another but to love one another as he has loved them. In the Hellenistic world, there are three words for love agape, eros and philos, in English we only have one. In this passage, Jesus speaks of agape love which was the least common word used for love. Agape is defined as love, which is of and from God. It’s not the sappy sentimental love we see in movies but a much greater love, it is the unmerited love God shows to humankind in sending his son as suffering redeemer. When Jesus tells his disciples to love one another as he love them, he was not only speaking to the twelve gathered around the table that night. Jesus was also speaking to us, his disciples. As Christians today, we are also called to love one another. Archbishop Desmond Tutu , a modern day saint and leader within the freedom movement in South Africa, when asked what is the meaning of life said, “ultimately we’re meant for love… we’re meant as those who will communicate love and make this world more hospitable to love.”

As I have become a part of this community over the past eight months, I have seen that this community embodies both Bishop Tutu’s meaning of life as well as Jesus’ new commandment to love one another. Over the past year, significant loss has occurred within this community. We have lost husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, friends, and confidants. We have watched and waited with loved ones as they recover from significant surgeries and illnesses. We have cared for each other through the good times and the bad. We have LOVED one another. Saint Alban’s has mentored me in what it means to love one another within a community. You have helped me see firsthand what it is like to live in a Christian community where love rules. As I watched each of you care for each other, hold each other, pray with each other week after week, I saw agape love. This love doesn’t end on Sunday when we leave here either, but rather continues all week long. Each Wednesday, during the healing Eucharist, I listened as the members of that small group of worshippers prayed not for their own needs but the needs of others. Many times, I felt selfish asking for healing for myself when everyone else was asking for healing for others. That time of worship is something I look forward to every week, as we gather to share our hopes and dreams, our hurts and sorrows.

The agape love is not just within the community of St. Alban’s either. It extends to the way St. Alban’s opens its doors to the outside community as well. Just in the year I have been here, this community has participated in an ecumenical service of healing, welcomed a new after school program for kids, and planted a community garden as well as continued all the other ministries already present here. This parish shows its love everywhere it goes. After all who could forget the first function he and I both attended where he danced and I watched. The welcoming love we were shown that night was just typical of St. Alban’s. There is a long history of seminarians here at St. Alban’s and I am sure that each one of us would have our own stories of love that we could describe. But the common denominator in all the stories is you and your dedication to caring for each other and the greater community.

It is not possible to celebrate the resurrection without also having the cross. One piece of the cross is the mourning, the crying and the pain associated with it. Jesus did die on that cross, but he was also resurrected three days later. And it is the resurrection that we celebrate in this, the Easter season. In the resurrection, we are shown that love is stronger than death. That Love can conquer and that we should always remember Jesus commandment to love one another as I have loved you.

For this one thing I am certain. St. Alban’s is a community where love can and does conquer all and that we do love one another as Christ loved us.



Amen.

                       

Sermon for Sunday Feb 24 the Second Sunday of Lent

I will never forget the date.  It was July 16, I was an eighteen year old boy setting out on what I thought would be the adventure of a lifetime!  My suitcases were already checked and I was standing in the departures area of JFK airport in New York waiting for my plane to take me to South Africa.  I still remember the excitement as the plane took off and I watched out the window and said goodbye to the land I loved.  But along with the excitement was the doubt.  I had said goodbye to my friends and family.  I was leaving the life I knew, a life of comfort, of cultural understanding and of a language I understood, behind.  I was 24 hours away from living in a new country with new people and a new way of life.   I was excited, thinking about what adventures would await me in sub-Saharan Africa.

Unfortunately, that excitement did not last for long.  I arrived in Johannesburg airport but my suitcases decided they didn’t want the same experience.  They had never left New York.  Within moments, my excitement of arriving in South Africa was dashed by my fear of what do I do now?  I began to question whether I had made the right decision.  Was I stranded in a foreign land with nothing?  Was I really ready for an adventure by myself?  Had I just been overly confident in my abilities to overcome adversity?

I can only imagine that David has similar feelings as he wrote this morning’s Psalm.  The Psalm begins with David acknowledging that he has nothing to fear because he is confident of the Lord’s protection in this life. His biggest wish is to live in the house of the Lord forever, and see the loveliness of the Lord in the next life as well.  David knows that whatever comes his way the Lord will care for him.  Yet, he quickly loses his confidence in the Lord.  David says, “Seek my face. Your face, Lord I do seek, Do not hide your face from me.  … Abandon me not, nor forsake me.”   David fears that the Lord has left him for his enemies.  David begins to doubt whether the Lord is present in his life. He misses that presence and questions where the Lord has gone.

David is not the only person that doubts the presence of the Lord.

As we heard in today’s first reading, Abram also doubts.  Abram has just returned home from rescuing his nephew Lot from the eastern kings.  Abram and his “army” of three hundred eighteen men had defeated many men and kings and could have taken much from the men, yet he took nothing but the food and drink his men had eaten.  He is victorious against his enemies but when he arrives home he starts to doubt himself.  He questions whether he will ever have an heir.  He is upset and feels that there is no hope.

God tells Abram that God will be his protection and that Abram will have many descendants, in fact to many descendants to count.  Yet Abram questions this.  In response, God takes Abram outside and asks him to count the stars.  Now I don’t know about you, but if you have ever visited a location where there isn’t much artificial light, the night sky is filled with stars.  For any person to sit and count the starts would be nearly impossible.  But what does Abram do?  He listens to God and God offers the first covenant between Abram and God.

Like David and Abram, how often do we lose confidence in ourselves?  How often do we doubt our abilities? How often do we allow the stress and anxiety of our everyday lives get in the way of our own abilities?  Last week in her sermon, Kathleen spoke about the vigil or gun violence held at Good Shepherd church.  She said she knew it was what needed to be done but that she asked herself what could she do about gun violence.  I am sure that each of us has had moments in our lives when we questioned whether we were good enough to handle the task set before us.  I know I have.  Even one of the most famous women in recent Christian history doubted herself.  Mother Theresa in a letter sent to her superiors questioned her faith and ability to complete her work.  She said:

I call, I cling, I want — and there is no One to answer — no One on Whom I can cling — no, No One. — Alone … Where is my Faith — even deep down right in there is nothing, but emptiness & darkness — My God — how painful is this unknown pain — I have no Faith — I dare not utter the words & thoughts that crowd in my heart — & make me suffer untold agony.

So many unanswered questions live within me afraid to uncover them — because of the blasphemy — If there be God — please forgive me — When I try to raise my thoughts to Heaven — there is such convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives & hurt my very soul. — I am told God loves me — and yet the reality of darkness & coldness & emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul.

If Mother Theresa, the woman who is known for doing so much good and caring for so many untouchable people in India, can doubt her own abilities, why can’t we.  Maybe we are not looking at the challenge of caring for an entire caste of India, but we too have things in our life that affect us.  We have grief over the death of loved ones, concern for sick family members; loss of jobs, stress over money, grades in school, the list can go on and on.  I believe we all have issues that can create doubt in our lives.   It is in these times of doubt that we are called to be outside ourselves.  What does, To be outside ourselves mean, you might ask?  Being outside ourselves, is a challenge to look past our own feelings and concerns.  It is a place to look beyond our own comprehension or our own thinking.  A time to look for guidance from an outside source.   It is quite possibly a time when our own self-confidence is either shaken or gone.  It is a scary place to be.  Nothing looks like it will work out.  

It is in times like these that we must have confidence in God’s confidence of us.  We were created in God’s image.  We are a self-reflection of God.  No matter what happens in our lives, God has the confidence that all will work out for the best.  God doesn’t promise that it will always be easy.  In fact, as we have seen in all of this morning’s readings, it is not easy for any of the characters in the lessons.  The Pharisees offer support to Jesus but he tells them no, he has a job to do.  Paul tells the Philippians that God will transform our humiliation into glory.  Living life isn’t easy, life has never been promised to be easy. But we can take heart in knowing that at the end of this period of the church year, we call Lent, we will celebrate the Resurrection.  It is the ultimate example of God showing confidence in us.  This is the time for us to loose the doubt of our lives, to let go of any doubt in our abilities and a time to allow God to show us the way to bring confidence back into our lives.

I know I examine the confidence or lack thereof in my own life a lot.  Which brings me back to the story I opened with.  I had lost all confidence in myself when I had no luggage in South Africa.  It was out of that experience that I learned I was capable to take care of myself.  I saw that I had the ability to learn from my experiences and integrate those experiences into my being.  I became aware that I was not alone in my trip but had the support of an entire community back home.  After thirteen months away, I returned home, no the boy who had left, but a man capable of overcoming any adversity I faced.  I had witnessed firsthand the horrors of apartheid.  I had seen how an entire population of people, who based upon their skin color, could be treated more like animals than like people.  Looking back now, 25 years later, I can see that it was a time when an entire group of people where as the psalmist says were waiting for the lord.  Being strong and letting their hearts take courage.  So I ask that each of us reflect this week, in what ways are we allowing ourselves to be strong and wait for the Lord.

Sorry It's been awhile

I realize that I have not posted since October.  Life has been a bit crazy but that is no excuse for not keeping my blog current.  Hopefully this week I will be able to post some of the stuff that has been going on since October but I figured I would start posting again.  As soon as I am done with this post, I will post the manuscript from the sermon I preached this morning at St. Alban's church, my field ed parish.

I look forward to posting more in the next few days.

Homily on 1 Thessalonians

This is a homily I gave last week in my preaching class on a reading from 1 Thessalonians.  The intended audience is the members of the class, all seminarians.


A Reading from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians

Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anything written to you.  For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.  When they say, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape! But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness. So then let us not fall asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; for those who sleep sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.

“In the depth a light will grow, A silver shine no shadows know, Like wings unfolding in the sky, That circle 'round a gleaming eye, Turning darkness all away, Even depths will know their day, For every shadow has its end, In light! Life will return again!”

Robert Fanney, an author of Science Fiction novels.

In the reading from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonian’s, as well as in the poem I just read, light conquers darkness.  In both cases the darkness is overcome by light, which in turn brings life.  For all of us, as seminarians and future priests, it is this light that we are called to bring into the world. In a few short years, we will be tasked with offering the light of Jesus Christ to the people of our parishes.  During these years of formation at seminary, we are filling our toolboxes with the tools we need to carry out our future mission.  Every class we take affords us the opportunity to gain yet another tool for that mission.

In my personal toolbox, one of the most useful tools is a flashlight, given to me after successfully completing Clinical pastoral education also known as CPE this past summer.  It was during CPE that I honed my skills helping people explore their own darkness, and allowing them to find the light within themselves.    During one patient visit, I was sitting with a mother whose child was hours away from dying of cancer.  She was only able to see the darkness of losing her son.   After talking with her about the love and compassion she felt towards him and the pain her son was experiencing, she realized that while it was difficult for her to let go of him in this life, she would see her son again in Heaven.  During our conversation, she found the light and love of Christ.  It was through me walking with this mother in her darkness that she could find and accept the light of Christ.

In his letter, Paul challenges the Thessalonians “to put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation and encourage one another and build up each other.” Similar to the Thessalonians, we also strap on our tools.  It is through the breastplate of faith and love and the helmet of salvation that we begin our work.  From the tools given to us by Christ Jesus and the other tools we collect and learn to use while at seminary, we begin our ministry helping people become children of the light.  For as Paul writes, children of the light will not be surprised by the thief in the night but rather be ready for the thief’s arrival.  We do not want our parishioner’s to be left sleeping in the dark instead we want them to be awake and vigilant, ready for the time to come.

It is our calling as future priests to fill our toolboxes with everything necessary to walk with people in the darkness and guide them to the light.  Now is our time to ensure that we have fitted our breastplates and secured our helmets.  It is also time to inventory our own toolboxes.

Thus far in our seminary career, what tools do we already have in our toolbox and what tools are we missing for our work ahead?

The Feast of St. Francis

Today is the day that many churches celebrate the Feast of Saint Francis.  It is a day to remember Giovanni Francesco di Bernardone.  St. Francis grew up the son of a wealthy cloth merchant, living the good life as the leader of a band of soldiers.  One day, while returning from a battle, he heard a voice and gave it all up.  He realized that he had to say no to the world in order to say yes to God.  From there he wrote an order of life and the order of Franciscans were for born.

Each year, there are many different celebrations to commemorate the life of St. Francis.  In many Episcopal churches this is done with the blessing of animals.  Within the Franciscan tradition, the transitus is celebrated.  I had the privilege of attending a transitus this year at the Franciscan School of Theology here at the GTU.  In the transitus, the story of St Francis is told, hymns are sung and a meal is shared.  It is both a solemn and celebratory service all at the same time.  After attending the transitus this year, I have decided that the service will become an annual event for me.  It was a moving experience in which I was able to celebrate the life and death of St. Francis with my Franciscan seminary counterparts.

As John Kater, a member of our faculty stated in his sermon on Thursday night, "I want to free St. Francis from the birdbath."  While many people love the blessing of the animals, St Francis was much more than just animals.  St Francis is credited with creating the first Nativity Scene.  St. Francis was a man that not only honored God but also the world in which we all live.

For more information on St. Francis, click here.
For more information of the Transitus, click here.

The centerpiece of the Transitus at Franciscan School of Theology
 a Franciscan Habit laid out as if it was St. Francis

A Prayer Attributed to St. Francis

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

The Canticle of the Sun 

by Francis of Assisi

Most high, all powerful, all good Lord! All praise is yours, all glory, all honor, and all blessing. To you, alone, Most High, do they belong. No mortal lips are worthy to pronounce your name.
Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially through my lord Brother Sun, who brings the day; and you give light through him. And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor! Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars; in the heavens you have made them, precious and beautiful.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air, and clouds and storms, and all the weather, through which you give your creatures sustenance.
Be praised, My Lord, through Sister Water; she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you brighten the night. He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.
Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth, who feeds us and rules us, and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.
Be praised, my Lord, through those who forgive for love of you; through those who endure sickness and trial. Happy those who endure in peace, for by you, Most High, they will be crowned.
Be praised, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whose embrace no living person can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Happy those she finds doing your most holy will. The second death can do no harm to them.
Praise and bless my Lord, and give thanks, and serve him with great humility.

(translated by Bill Barrett from the Umbrian text of the Assisi codex.)

Death...

I have been doing a lot of talking about death this semester here are CDSP and on Facebook.  You see I am taking a class entitled The Spirituality of Death and Dying.  The class is all about how we as Christians handle death, both personally and as a religion. In fact just this morning, a group of us spent the morning exploring a cemetery and mausoleum. It was a wonderful adventure and hope to have the pictures I took up here in a few days. But that is another post.  Now on with the class description.

One of our first assignments was to create our own advanced directives and plan our own funeral.  The thought was that if we couldn't talk about our own death, how as future priests within the church could we help our parishioners.    It is a serious topic for discussion and one that we all really spent some time thinking about.  Of course everything up until now has been working from my head.  Unfortunately tonight, death went from being something we think about in class and among friends to a community event from the heart.

This past week the local middle school was rocked with allegations of sexual misconduct by a teacher.  The teacher was arrested and ultimately was released on bail.  On Tuesday, the community was notified that the teacher had committed suicide.  The entire community was devastated not only by the allegations but also by the teacher's death.  My field ed supervisor felt that the local religious community should do something to respond to these events.  Tonight was that event.  My supervisor asked if I was able to attend, so I left our community eucharistic celebration and community night dinner and headed over to the local town hall.  We placed luminaries on the sidewalk outside and set up   160 chairs.  There were sand boxes for votive candles and everything was made ready.  The event was scheduled to begin at 7:30 p.m..  Inside nine religious leaders came together for a "Community Interfaith Gathering for Comfort and Healing.  At first I was concerned whether anyone would attend the service.  What I soon learned was that this community is in need of hope.  When the program finally ended over 200 people were in attendance and it was an incredibly moving experience.  I stood in the back of the auditorium and spoke with people, both teenagers and adults, as they left during the service, always checking to see if they wanted to talk or what emotions they were facing.

The tears in the eyes of young and old were flowing and the outpouring of love to all the victims, both students and teacher, was incredible.  I have never experienced an event like I did this evening.  I know none of the victims, yet by the end of the night I feel like I know all of them.  I heard stories of a well-respected teacher who loved his students and of students that had their innocence taken away.  We do not know the truth behind the story and now we probably never will.  The story cannot have closure.

In cases like this some of the most disturbing things I heard were from parents.  One parent spoke of her daughter's friends cutting themselves because they had no way to release the pain they felt.  The parent expressed her concern for the well-being of all the children.  Of feeling helpless and not knowing where to turn.  While listening to her speak, I also felt helpless.  What does one say to a person as they tell you of someone else's pain.  I have never gone through it and sure can't say I understand because I don't.

After an event like this, I can truly say that I hope I never experience this type of event again.  Unfortunately, I probably will face a similar instance during my time in parish ministry.  This evening gave me an excellent opportunity to reflect upon just how fragile we are as humans and how much we need each other when tragedy strikes.

When an event like this takes place, I find myself begin to ask some pretty tough questions.  Where is God in all these events?  How can someone reconcile the God of Love against a God that allows these events to take place?  If I am struggling with these issues, imagine what a person not in seminary must be thinking?  How, as a future priest (God willing),  can I help people come to terms with these issues? Maybe that is one of the reasons I was there tonight, in order for me to wrestle with the tough questions.  I really don't know.  Hopefully as I reflect upon these events further, I will begin to understand and or comprehend but as of right now, I don't.

I will leave you with the Litany for community healing and comfort that was used this evening.

Coming from all corners of our community, we gather in the midst of pain and confusion.  We come together to seek and share healing and comfort.

Source of Life and love, we need help holding this heavy load.  Be with us as we gather to seek and share healing and comfort.

For all those in need: May there be healing and comfort.
For the family of the deceased: May there be healing and comfort.
For our students, their parents and families: May there be healing and comfort.
For teachers, counselors and school teachers: May there be healing and comfort.
For those who speak out: May there be healing and comfort.
For victims of abuse and hurt: May there be healing and comfort.
For public servants: May there be healing and comfort.
For the bearers of difficult news: May there be healing and comfort.
For all who consider this community home: May there be healing and comfort.

May the source of Life be with each of us, and may we be present with one another, that we may move - as individuals and as families, as schools and as a community - towards healing and comfort.

 Lighting the way into the service

As the service began

I apologize if this post seems to be a stream of consciousness as I believe it really is.  I needed to write down some of my thoughts from this evening as a way to help me process what I witnessed this evening.  What I have written here is just a small portion of what I have been thinking and feeling over the course of the last seven hours now.

It's been a while - My summer CPE experience

I apologize for the delay in posting on the blog.  This summer was a whirlwind of activity for me.  I am now back in Berkeley and getting used to the routine of school once again.  I'll talk about my classes in a later post.  Right now I would like to talk about my experiences this summer while working as a Chaplain intern at St. Luke's Hospital in Bethlehem, PA.

Part of the requirements for ordination in the Diocese of Pennsylvania is that I take part in an intense summer program called Clinical Pastoral Education.  For me, CPE as it is more commonly called was a ten week intensive program working as a chaplain in a hospital.  My typical work day was from 8:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.  The day began with morning report.  At morning report, the on-call chaplain discussed what happened overnight and which patients if any needed to have follow up done.  This was a time when everything from trauma's to codes to deaths were discussed.  It was both light hearted and serious at the same time.  Immediately following report, a short devotion was given.  Following devotion, I was in "class" until noon.  I parenthesize class because it was not lecture but rather experiential learning.  Part of time as spent in Intentional Personal Reflection (IPR) or as we called it caring and sharing, some time was spent in bible study, some time doing Verbatim's and other time thinking about what I taught myself this week.  The purpose of the time was always to examine my own life and how I both respond and react to situations that arise during patient interactions.  For instance why did I say ____ to that patient or why did you not ask the patient ______.  In the end, it was a time that allowed me to examine my pre-conceived notions, thoughts and actions and how I need to be cognizant of them as I continue my priestly career.  For me, it was a very difficult thing to examine but after it is all said and done, I am a much better person for it.  I have been awakened to things that I did unconsciously and feelings that I forgot I had.

After the class time was over, I then spent the next four hours working on two different floors of the hospital making patient visits.  It was the policy of the hospital that every patient received a chaplain visit within five days of admission.  With 68 rooms on two floors, that was a very difficult policy to adhere to.  Yet it was during those visits, that I learned how to live out my baptismal covenant better than ever before.   As I walked into a patients room, I was always amazed at how each patient taught me something about life.  During those visits, I was honored and blessed to spend time with patients in their best and worst moments.  As I walked into a room, sometimes I was the angel of death, (why is a chaplain visiting me?  Am I dying? Did the doctors not tell me something?) to the Christ Bearer.  I never knew what to expect.  What I did learn was that Christ is present in every situation and that even in the worst of times, Christ is willing and able to help.

After patient visits were completed, I went back to the work room for afternoon report, where once again, we each passed on to the on-call chaplain the patients that we felt needed to be followed up on overnight as well as patients we felt might not make it through the night.  It was a more somber tone as we bid the on-call chaplain a good night and all prayed for the well-being of our colleague.

On some nights, 11 in total, I was the on-call chaplain.  When on-call, I was the only chaplain in the hospital and had to report to all urgent pastoral needs.  I carried a pager and always dreaded the pager going off.  You never knew what to expect but always had to be ready for the worst case scenario.  It was during the on-calls that I faced some of my most challenging cases. After all, part of my job was to meet every trauma that arrived and notify family that their loved one had arrived.  I will never forget making my first phone call.  My voice was shaking, I was nervous and unsure of what exactly to say.  Yet I was able to make the call and broke the news to the family who arrived a short time later.  When families arrived, the chaplain is also the person that meets them in the emergency room and talks to them first.  It was during those times that I was really the angel of death.  Why else would a chaplain be in the ER?  Luckily, I never had to meet the family of a dead patient in the ER.  One of the other responsibilities of the on-call chaplain is being the go-between between the medical staff and the family.    I also learned more about medical procedures and conditions than I ever thought I wanted to know.  Who knew that I would learn how to read the MRI of a broken neck or a punctured lung?  Always valuable learnings for a priest, right?

But unfortunately on-calls also included being with families as their loved one died.  I will never forget waiting with a family at my first death nor will I ever forget being with a family as they "pulled the plug" on a loved one.  All these things were tough to be present with, but in the back of my head, I always have the faith that the dead are going to a mansion with many rooms, where there is no pain and suffering.  All the deaths I was present for were sacred times, filled with great sadness and pain, but I tried to bring families comfort and solace in knowing their loved one was no longer in pain or discomfort.  I will never forget the time a man, about my age, looked at me and said, "you must be numb to this, after seeing death so often?"  The only response I could give him was that death is always numbing, and yes I don't have the same feelings of sadness because it is not my loved one that is dying in that room.

Over this summer I saw death come in many shapes and sizes, from the very young to the very old and all ages in between.  I sat and listened to people as they reviewed their lives and spoke of the happiness they had, but also I listened to people as they tried to bargain with death since they were not ready to die.  What I learned about death this summer is that it is inevitable.  We are all going to die and that each day we get one step closer to that day. Death does not discriminate based upon age, race, color or anything else.  It merely arrives whether we are ready or not.

The memories and learnings of this summer will always be present with me and for that I thank everyone that allowed me to walk with them on their journey.  It was a privilege to be a perfect stranger and be allowed into their lives sharing their deepest darkest secrets and fears with me.  It is something I never will forget and something that has changed the person I am.

Thank you

My CPE classmates