Showing posts with label Prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prayer. Show all posts

Monday, October 7, 2019

Psalm 121: "My Help Comes from the LORD"

This psalm is part of the collection known as the “Songs of Ascent,” a collection (120-134) contained in Book 5 which parallels Deuteronomy in the Pentateuch or the “return from exile” in Israelite history.  The “Songs of Ascent” were traditionally used in what are known as the pilgrimage festivals (Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot) and were often sung as the congregation approached the Temple in Jerusalem.

This particular “Song of Ascent” is known also as a “Song of Trust,” a psalm that declares trust in God.  This trust, which is a relational component, has been formed through the peaks and valley of life, those times of disorientation and re-orientation that chart their way through the Psalms.  This psalm opens with a call-and-response structure.  The opening verse (v. 1) is the question posed by the poet and the liturgist.  Springing up from a lifetime of memories, the poet asks the congregation if they ascent to his question, hoping they hold trust in the same God that he does.  Thus, the natural expression is that “My help comes from YHWH!”

The remaining verses of this “Song of Trust” proclaims three elements of God’s nature that have served as the foundation for that trust.  In these verses, the poet notes that he trusts God’s direction.  The imagery in the first line (v. 3a) is that of God “keeping” the steps of the worshipper, much like a parent who helps a toddler take steps by clasping their hands around the child’s ankles and helping her learn the motion of walking.  The imagery of the remaining three lines (v. 3b-4) is that of God carrying the worshipper while the worshipper slumbers, much like the tales of mythical beasts carrying their wards in their arms or on their backs.

In v. 5-6, the poet notes that he trusts God’s provision.  In the New Revised Standard Version, the phrase “keeps” is repeated in each elemental passage.  Whereas the previous passage focused on God “keeping” the poet’s feet on the correct path, this passage focuses on God “keeping” the poet provided for.  Generally we think of provision as dealing with food or drink, however the tale of Jonah seems to hint in the background here as the poet trusts God to provide shade in the heat and shelter during the night (cf., Jonah 4:6).

In v. 7-8, the poet notes that he trusts God’s protection.  Here we see a more intimate nature of God’s “keeping.”  Drawing from more pastoral imagery, God is the worshipper’s shepherd, laying down in the gateway of the sheep pen, “keeping” the sheep in and “keeping” the thief out.  It is this imagery that inspired Jesus’ “I am the gate” teaching in John 10:7-10.  God does not simply nurse the wounds of the worshipper; God risks God’s own life to “keep” the worshipper safe.  In concluding his words here, the poet articulates that God is worth our trust because God directs, provides and protects us.

Articulating trust in God is easy when times are good and plentiful, yet harder when times are difficult and lean.  This psalm provides a structure for prayer in times when our trust in God is low, when our guilt rises and our faith wanes.  Begin by asking yourself the call of the opening verse: “From where does my help come?”  If you can honestly state that your help comes from God, remind yourself of why you trust God by thanking God for God’s direction, provision and protection.

Thursday, December 28, 2017

Book Review: "Five-Word Prayers" by Lisa Whittle

Lisa Whittle, 5-Word Prayers: Where to Start When You Don’t Know What to Say to God (Eugene, OR: Harvest House Publishers, 2017), 164 pp.  $13.99.

Prayer is a mysterious thing, and how God works through prayer is even more mysterious.  Several years ago, I was working in a ministry organization that really made me question my calling in ministry.  I loved the work and (most of) those I worked with.  However my supervisor was anything but a Christian leader.  Her morals were questionable, her work ethic was sketchy and her treatment of her employees was determined by how little she paid you (the more you were paid, the worst you were treated, which included public shaming).  I was a hospital chaplain, and had just come out of a great situation.  I loved where I had worked, however my contract was up and I needed to move on.  So I moved across town and immediately regretted my decision. 

Fast forward about four months to an incredibly draining weekend where I ended by day by being chewed out for ministering to the family of a dying patient.  It was not my unit, however I was the only chaplain available that weekend.  The problem was not that I was on a unit that I was not assigned to (necessarily).  The problem had been that I had agreed to go and minister to them.  By the time I got home, my family was already in bed. Oh, did I forget that I had to be back at 8:00 am the next day.  I collapsed into my recliner and simply prayer, “God, please do something now.”  It was five words, yet it was probably the most heart-felt prayer that I had ever personally prayed.  Five words.

The next day…I was fired.  I am still to this day not sure that “you’re the best floor chaplain that I have” is sufficient reason for firing someone.  But like I said, everything about this lady was highly questionable.  After being let go, I went back to my office to finish my paperwork (it was the deal to get my last paycheck).  I flipped open my phone (yup) and saw that I had a voicemail.  It was the hospital that I had previously worked for, and they were offering me a job!  “Please come to a meeting tonight to hear more details.”  Less than twenty-four hours later, and it seemed that God has answered my prayer.  I would go on to spend 2-1/2 years with that hospital, leaving only to accept my current full-time teaching position.  Five words.

Please do not misunderstand me.  I am not saying that simply praying a simple prayer will solve all of your problems.  What I am saying is that our prayers, especially in difficult times, can be simple prayers—even as simple as five words.  This is the beauty of Whittle’s little book.  It is theologically light, and can border on advocating the very approach to prayer that I am cautioning you against in this review.  However, her “five-word prayers” are practical.  Some of her prayers can be adjusted for more critical moments of life, such as the sudden, tragic death of a loved one (“Please give me strength now” or “I want to trust you.”).  Yet, in for the busy, connected world that we live in, this prayer guide might be just what you need to find guidance from and fulfillment in God.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Review: "Make a Break for It" by Bill Purvis

Bill Purvis.  Make a Break for It: Unleashing the Power of Personal and Spiritual Growth.  Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2016.  216pp.  $21.99.

According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, one defines “direction” as “the path along which something moves, lies, or points” or “an order or instruction to be followed.”  Both are fitting definitions when applied to the realm of spiritual development.  On one hand, we, from the moment we are born to the moment we expire, are moving along a direction.  We have a starting point (mine was in December 1978, in Huntington, West Virginia), and we have will have a stopping date (still working on that one).  The time in between our starting point and our stopping point is the direction of our life, or “trajectory,” as one of my college Bible professors referred to.  We begin, we move along for a while, then we end.  Direction.
            On the other hand, we, from the moment we are born to the moment we expire, are following directions.  Some of those directions are instinctual (crying when we are spanked at birth), some of those directions are intentional (the directions that I give my students in order to complete a paper or project), and some of those directions are accidental (pointing blindly at a wrench when fixing an appliance and your son actually brings you the correct item).  Regardless of the purpose of the direction, we will find ourselves following directions throughout the course of our direction of life.  We begin, we move along for a while, then we end.  Direction.
            Yet, should life not be more than simply follow directions as we follow along a direction?  This is the idea that is at the heart of Bill Purvis’ new book Make a Break for It.  As he writes in the introduction, “Do you ever feel as if your whole life is stuck in a traffic jam, on idle as you wait. . .and wait. . .and then wait some more for a lane to open up so you can get on the fast track to where you want to be?  Or maybe you feel more like you’re in a roundabout.  You keep going around in circles, driving past one exit after another because you don’t have any idea where you’re supposed to go next” (p. 11).  As Purvis argues throughout his book, life should be more than beginning, moving along for a while, and then ending.
            Purvis’ story begins somewhat like you would imagine a published testimony to start—a young man trapped in a broken life fueled by vices.  Yet Purvis’ story is not your usual testimony material.  His testimony includes being stabbed in the heart by a pimp who tried to murder him and his friend.  Just let that line sink in for a moment.  Escaping that moment led Purvis to a true “come to Jesus moment”—a hospital bed confessional that leads to a young man committing his life to not only follow Christ but seek to lead others to Christ. 
However, before you part company with Purvis 20 pages in because you—like me—have a boring testimony, I encourage you to stick with him.  This is not Augusten Burroughs’ This Is How, a brash, abrasive therapy session where you almost feel guilty for not being more broken.  [BTW, I like Burroughs’ book.]  Nor does this delve into sappy sentimental religiosity.  The chapters that follow Purvis’ testimony are carefully-crafted conversations about life, redemption and the self-sacrificial love of God.  It is a book about living well, about moving past excuses and criticisms, about choosing mentors well, and about living the adventure of life. 

This book is about direction—about beginning, about moving along for a while, and about ending.  Yet, Purvis argues, all of this direction should be taken with purpose—purpose which is found in God because it is only God who can give us direction for our direction in life.  So, in Purvis’ words, make a break for it—break away from your direction-less life and allow this redeemed journeyman guide you to a better direction for your life.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

2014 KCU Convocation Invocation

Opening Convocation, Fall 2014
Nash Chapel; Kentucky Christian University
19 August 2014

Almighty God, creator of the universe and provider of grace and mercy, we come before you this morning to ask you to bless our upcoming school year.  We thank you for bringing us to this holy place to share in the radiance of a new academic year. 

However, before we pray for ourselves, we pause for a moment to entreat you to intervene with peace, justice and reconciliation in places like Ferguson, Missouri, Iraq, Syria, and Indonesia.  We pray for those who are suffering as a result of turmoil, for those who stand to protect the innocent, and for those who profit from violence.  May your people courageously rise up to bring restoration the broken and the despairing.  Sustain them with your grace and strengthen them for their mission.

Now, as we turn our thoughts to this new academic year, we pray that we do all things to bring you glory and expand the borders of your kingdom.  We pray that we will seek your presence in and your will for our lives.  Whether in the classroom, on the athletic field or in the professional context, may we strive to be people of courage, compassion and conviction.  Fill us with joy in our learning, joy in our service, and joy in our relationships.

In the name of Christ Jesus, our savior and redeemer, we pray.  Amen.

Rob O’Lynn, ABD

Assistant Professor of Preaching and Ministry

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Book Review: After Lament (ACU Press Book Club)

Glenn Pemberton.  After Lament: Psalms for Learning to Trust Again.  Abilene, TX: ACU Press, 2014.  220 pp.  $17.99

Thirty years ago, OT scholar Walter Brueggemann, in his book The Message of the Psalms[1], developed the labels of “orientation” (a time of praise), “disorientation” (a time of suffering) and “new orientation” (a time of restoration) as an approach to studying Psalms.  Since its publication, Brueggemann’s cycle of orientation has become the standard paradigm for interpreting and preaching the psalms.  Pemberton has already followed in Brueggemann’s footsteps by focusing on psalms of “disorientation” in his previous volume Hurting with God.[2]  Now, in this new volume, Pemberton indicates that he will be moving on to psalms of “new orientation” to demonstrate how lament moves us toward mature faith in God through the image of a wagon wheel.  With lament at the center, each chapter focuses on a different “spoke”—a different type of psalm—that comes out of lament and brings about that “new orientation” (e.g., psalms of trust, thanksgiving psalms and wisdom psalms).  The volume concludes with a look at some of Pemberton’s “case studies” that he has examined in both volumes.

In terms of evaluation, Pemberton’s volume has both strengths and limitations.  In terms of strengths, this volume speaks with the same pastoral voice as his previous volume Hurting with God.  Pemberton has experienced an immense amount of suffering in a short time, and he shares his suffering in such a way that we find a kindred spirit in these pages rather than a disconnected scholar who has never experienced a moment of anguish.  Additionally, this volume effectively compliments Hurting with God in that Pemberton spends most of this volume focusing on the psalms of “new orientation.”  Although he continues to look at the lament psalms in an effort to bring these texts back into the church’s language and to make us comfortable with them, he does focus a great deal on the prayers and hymns of bygone saints who have emerged from their suffering more confident in their faith.  He is quick, though, to note that “happily ever after” is not a guarantee of “new orientation.”  The sickness or sin is still present; however our hope in God has matured.  Lastly, the general strength of this volume—as with Hurting with God—is the practical approach that the volume takes.  Pemberton has not written for the scholar but for the student, everyday church member and preacher.  His exegesis, if not slightly tinged by his new normal of daily suffering, is solid and communicated with the care and creativity of a veteran preacher. 

However, this does not mean that this volume is free of critique.  There are a couple of minor technical issues that I must address: 1) The boldfacing of selected Psalms is not consistent throughout the volume, and 2) not all of the referenced material makes the Works Cited or Recommended Bibliography sections.  These are minor points of critique, yet I think their mention is warranted.  Now, on a larger scale, there are three major points of critique that I have with this volume.  First, while I appreciate the personal nature with which he writes, I fear that Pemberton borders on using his writing as a form of self-medication.  As someone who has endured a different type of suffering, I can resonate with Pemberton.  There needs to be a place for people of faith to address our concerns to our God.  Yet, drowning in our own sorrows only perpetuates our sorrows.  Second, although the title indicates that he is going to move beyond the psalms of “disorientation,” Pemberton continues to focus predominately on such psalms.  The bulk of this volume rests in that unsettled upward curve between crisis and stability rather than fully moving to “new orientation.”  Third, his “spokes” paradigm is disconnected.  Pemberton envisions the psalms of “disorientation” as the center of a wheel and the psalms of “new orientation” as the spokes that come out of the center.  Taken collectively, he argues, these spokes form a wheel of faith that allows us to continue moving spiritually.  However, the spokes operate more like fan blades.  They are certainly connected to the center, yet they are not connected to one another.  Lament can lead this way or that way, however there is nothing that connects them to one another.  

Still, despite my concerns, this is a solid study and a needed pastoral voice in our religiously shallow world.  If you are not hurting, someone close to you is.  These texts can be your words of solace to them.  If you are hurting, Pemberton gets you.  He understands your pain and wants to help you discover the words you need to offer to God.  This book, along with Hurting with God, would make for a great Bible study (discussion questions are included).  I would also recommend both volumes to the undergraduate instructor who is teaching a text course in Psalms.  That being said, I hope that Pemberton writes a third volume, an “orientation” volume, that will complete the cycle.   

Rob O’Lynn, MDiv
Assistant Professor of Preaching and Ministry
Kentucky Christian University

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from ACU Press/Leafwood Publishers as part of their ACU Press Bookclub Program.  I was not required to write a positive review.  The opinions I have expressed are my own.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”


[1]Walter Brueggemann, The Message of the Psalms: A Theological Commentary (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984).
[2]Glenn Pemberton, Hurting with God: Learning to Lament with the Psalms (Abilene, TX: ACU Press, 2013). 

Monday, January 27, 2014

Why I Pray for Bart Ehrman


I know, I know.  It’s a shocking title, at least for me.  However, that was not my intention.  This is a confession—I really do pray for Bart Ehrman.  If you are not sure who Bart Ehrman is, you can find out more about him on his personal website or his faculty profile page.  In short, Dr. Ehrman grew up in a conservative Christian environment and pursued a calling to ministry and theological scholarship.  However, after graduating from the prestigious, conservative, evangelical Wheaton College and attending the equally prestigious although more mainline and liberal Princeton Seminary, Ehrman suffered a crisis of faith where he essentially rejected the Christian faith of his youth and embraced a form of quasi-agnosticism.  I say quasi-agnosticism because his belief system is really hard to categorize classically.  He believes in God and accepts that Christ lived on earth; however he has rejected the Christian Church as the continuation of Christ’s mission.  Through his writing, he openly and ferociously criticizes the church for reinterpreting Jesus for political gain, for forging canonical works, and for causing worldwide religious oppression.  Just from this alone, some of you may understand why I pray for him.


However, none of the above is why I pray for him.  I pray for him for another reason—two, in fact.  First, I am thankful for Bart Ehrman, and others like Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan who are fellow members in the “Jesus Seminar” movement with Ehrman, because they compel me to study.  Paul instructed Timothy to study diligently so that he could proclaim the truth to those seeking it (2 Timothy 2:15).  In a world that stands for nothing and therefore falls for anything, I must continually evaluate my theology in light of the Bible and the traditions of Christianity (both accepted and unaccepted).  Therefore, when asked, I can give an answer for what I believe (1 Peter 3:15-16).  I thank God for Bart Ehrman because he compels me to be a better student of Scripture and history.

Second, I pray for Bart Ehrman because I can see me in him.  I agree with Tom Long when he suggests that Ehrman, in response to Ehrman’s book God’s Problem, “misses God.”[1]  Like Long, I think Ehrman wants to believe in God and embrace the Christian faith.  He certainly spends his life in the Christian realm.  Yet he wants a Christian faith that presents God to him in a way that does not insult his intelligence.  To be honest, I resonate deeply with this.  I, too, have quietly struggled long and hard with my faith, with how I understand God and faith.  I wonder what I would find if I really plumbed the depths of my theology, if I listened to the “deep that calls to deep” (Psalm 42:7).  What would I find?  Would it frighten me?  Would I like what I find?  Maybe there is nothing behind the curtain after all.  Unlike Ehrman, I am not afraid of rejecting my faith in God.  It means too much to me.  And this is why I pray for Bart Ehrman—because I do hope he will, someday and in his own way, find his way back home to the God who created him to be so passionately intelligent.    



[1]Thomas G. Long, What Shall We Say? Evil, Suffering, and the Crisis of Faith (Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2011), 27. 

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Measuring Effectiveness

Over the weekend, a friend of mine posted a picture on Facebook that brought back some memories.  When I was in college, I launched and directed a Christian theatre troupe that traveled to youth rallies, retreats, camps, and even Sunday night devotionals to talk about our faith through sketches.  It was great fun, and an early crucible for me to learn about leadership.  This particular picture was taken 15 September 2001 at a congregation just outside Pittsburg.  The congregation had invited us to perform for a small youth rally.  However, if you noticed the date, the nation was in a moment of crisis.  The question was raised of whether we should go, given the circumstances.  I decided that we should go, and I asked who wanted to come.  It was a difficult decision, one that I really struggled with both before going and after returning.  We went and did our thing, having a great time in the process.  Also, about a week later, we received word that some teenagers who had been at that rally had decided to become Christians afterwards.  In the end, it was a missional win.

As I looked at the picture and reminisced over that particular trip, I started thinking about how we define effectiveness in ministry.  What defines a “win”?  How do we measure “success” in ministry?  For all practical purposes, this particular trip was questionable.  We traveled from Searcy, Arkansas, to Pittsburg during a national crisis when travel was being discouraged.  As I mentioned, it was a small rally.  The recruiting quotient was really low.  Only a few teenagers accepted Christ’s offer of salvation and were baptized, and even this was after the rally.  Was this trip “effective”?  Was this trip “successful”?  I know many who would say that we wasted our time going.  (In fact, another theatre troupe has turned the rally down, noting that it was “too small” for them to perform at.)  Yet, the Gospel was proclaimed and some accepted the call.  Why can that not be enough success for the Church?

I spent four years working as a hospital chaplain.  During that time, I came to the conclusion that no area of ministry is more emotionally, psychologically and spiritually challenging than chaplaincy.  During my first year, I was the pediatric chaplain, serving the Pediatric ICU and outpatient pediatric oncology unit.  Yeah.  The next three years, I spent working in the hospital’s Emergency Room.  Yeah.  My days were simple: Visit and pray with as many people as you can; complete your consults; make your unit meetings.  My days were difficult: Visit and pray with as many people as you can; complete your consults; make your meetings.  A “win” in chaplaincy is not being thrown out of a room.  In four years, I think that happened twice.  The question never was how people had I visited; it was had God been present to those in crisis.  And for that person or that family, being present and offering a prayer was, often, enough.

I have been in full-time ministry since 2001 (1997, if you count the theatre troupe).  Although I have done some consulting, I have yet to be invited to headline a national conference, although I speak at 2-3 conferences a year.  I have yet to serve a congregation larger than 200, unless you count those where I did my internships.  On paper, I would judged by many to be an ineffective and unsuccessful minister.  Yet, Jesus did not call us to build big churches.  He called us to “go” and “teach” and “pray” and “forgive” and “baptize” and “make disciples,” and leave the kingdom-building up to Him, His Father, and the Spirit.  To that end, I think I have been effective because I am fighting the good fight, running the race, and keeping the faith.  And so are you.  Brother and sister in ministry, I hope you find this encouraging.  Grace and peace.   

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

I Forgot

The last several days have been quite full--full of meetings, full of writing, full of "tying up loose ends."  Through all of the hustle and bustle of what should be a very relaxing time of year, I have found that I have yet to slow down.  Not only that, I have neglected a couple of things.  It has been a couple days since I have posted a status update on Facebook or Twitter.  It has been a few days since I have posted on this site.  Why?  Simple answer.  I forgot.

It happens to all of us.  We forget to do certain things that should be regular habits.  For most things, it really is not a big deal.  It is not a big deal that I have not tweeted for a couple of days.  It is not a big deal that I have neglected my blog for a few days.  The world will continue without my input.

However, there are other "disciplines" that are important and should not be forgotten.  Again, it happens to all of us.  We forget to read from our Bibles.  We find ourselves going longer and longer between prayer times.  And while it is not a big deal to forget to tweet, it is a big deal to forget to pray.  Paul challenges us to "pray without ceasing" (1 Thessalonians 5:17).  Some have balked at this challenge because they do not fully understand what Paul means.  He is not suggesting that we stay in a perpetual posture of prayer, such as closing our eyes and folding our hands.  Just imaging all of the odd stares we would get in Wal-Mart if we bowed in prayer between each aisle.  

No, what Paul is describing here a perpetual state of prayer.  As people of faith, we must be prayerful people.  I always advise those I am mentoring or teaching to pray when they drive.  However they must keep their eyes open!  We can pay silently in our minds.  We can listen to prayers on the radio or on our iPods.  We can pray "breathe prayers" throughout the day.  When it comes to praying continuously, we really do not have an excuse.  So, make sure that the next time you forget something, make sure that it is to tweet instead of to pray.

Friday, May 10, 2013

Transitions: A Reflection and Prayer

I am sitting in my office on a day book-ended with notable transitions.  Earlier this morning, I conducted a graveside service for a woman who was raised and lived in this community for several years.  She had not lived her for sometime, however her wishes were to return "home" for her burial.  The service was small, yet meaningful as those who cared for this woman said their goodbyes and hoped for the day when they will see her again.

Later today, I will part of another transition, although merely as a spectator.  I will be on stage and looking at an audience, yet my participation will be as a silent, smiling observer.  As is common among religious and faith-based educational institutions, we will have a baccalaureate service for our graduating seniors.  It is their last time to worship as a student of this university, and it is our chance to offer a parting blessing to them as they leave us to enter professions across throughout the world.  

Transitions are part of life.  We transition from an apartment to a home.  We transition from one career to another.  We transition from being providers to being provided for.  We transition from being married to being widowed.  Transitions are part of life.  We may ignore them or rebuff them, yet they are there and we must respect them.  Yet this does not mean that all transitions are painful.  Some, even if they bring sorrow, are productive and even healing.  

Just as birds must leave the nest in order to learn to fly, we often must transition from one phase of life to another in order to mature and live a productive life.  To that end, I offer this prayer for all those who are going through a transition in their lives, especially those who are finishing a chapter of their educational journey.  May this bring you comfort on this weekend.

Father God, Giver and Sustainer of Life,

We approach Your throne this day and ask that You give blessing to all those who are facing a transition in their lives.  Growing hurts, yet we know that there is purpose in pain.  Saying goodbye hurts, yet we are hopeful for the next hello.  Chapters end, yet new chapters begin.  In this time when so many are enduring a transition, whether it is with a job or school or family, we ask that You bring blessing, comfort, and direction to those seeking Your will and Your presence.  We trust that You will lead us where You want to go, and we hope in Your faithfulness to us as we are faithful to You.  May Your grace and mercy cover us!

In Christ's name, Amen

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

A Prayer for Boston




Almighty God, Creator and Sustainer of the universe,

            We come before You today with hurting hearts, wet eyes and shaking fists.  We come before You today in the midst of chaos and confusion.  We come to You today because we are once again reminded of the presence of Evil in our world and because it seems that You did nothing to stop it.  We come to You today because fellow humans have been injured and maimed from this act of violence and its hurts us collectively as a race of people.  We come to You today because, regardless of their color or creed, Death has claimed more victims.  We come to You today because we are left with only questions to ask without answers to provide.  We come to You today because there is no place else to go to seek solace from this pain. 

We come to You today because our hearts are hurting and eyes are wet and our fists are shaking.  We come to You today because we are confused.  We come to You today because we have been reminded that Evil is present in our world and we are looking for You to respond.  We come to You today because injury has come upon some of Your children, and that hurts us.  We come to You today because, regardless of color or creed, Death seems think it has claimed a victory.  We come to You today because only You can provide answers to our questions.  We come to You because only You offer solace from this pain.  Amen.

                        Your children on Earth

Friday, March 4, 2011

A Glimpse of Community

When I arrived at the hospital on Saturday, I was asked by the dayshift chaplain to follow-up with a patient in the ICU who had been placed on "comfort measures only care" early that day. I visited the unit a couple of times that evening, finding no family present. I prayed quietly by the patient's bedside, hoping that it might bring some comfort to this frail, unresponsive woman.


I came back up the next day during the lunchtime visitation period, again finding no family. Again, I came up during the midafternoon visitation period. This time, I found someone sitting in a chair at the foot of the patient's bed. Only this visitor was not a member of the patient's family; she was the patient's nurse!




The nurse had moved the room's recliner to the foot of the patient's bed so that she could easily see the patient (and the monitor above the patient) and so the patient could see her (should she open her eyes). The nurse was texting, pausing every few moments to look up at the patient. She was a little startled when she saw that I had entered the room. She quickly put down her phone, and simply said, "I just didn't want her to be alone." I asked about her family, and she informed me that they had returned home (about a two-hour drive) after finalizing her "DNR" and "comfort care" orders. After a few more moments of polite conversation, she and I entered that place of simple silence--the solace that comes when nothing needs to be said, only the moment needs to be experienced.

"I think she would like a prayer," come the voice from below me. For a moment, I thought that I had thought this. It took me a moment to return to the room from being on what my CPE supervisor calls "holy ground." I turned and looked at the nurse because I was not quite sure if she had asked. "I think she would like prayer," came the request again. "Absolutely. Would you care to join me?" We bowed our heads, and I spoke to God on behalf of this patient, this woman who was probably totally unaware of what was going on around her. Yet, the prayer that I said was not only for the patient and her departed family. I also prayed for this nurse, this angel who attended to a dying woman and to a tired minister.

Many of us will search our whole lives for community, for people who will love us and accept us for who we are. Those who say that will minister to us, then actually come through with their promise. We are a society of shallow shadow-dwellers, a culture of superficiality. We claim to want community, yet spurn every opportunity to embrace community because we are so focused our "plans," "agendas," "goals" and "budgets." Yet here was a nurse--a woman--who felt compelled to minister to another woman simply by being present with her. She told me that she was taking her breaks in between attending to her other patients to simply sit with this woman. It was touching to me. Despite all of the efforts of our society to pull us apart from one another, the human need to be in community with another human being still pulsates through our soul. I may have been the one who prayed, yet it was this nurse who reminded me of what community is all about.