Thoughts from a talk on pagan chaplaincy

[justben]

I don't know that chaplaincy is the right place for me, but I just attended a presentation on the subject by Patrick McCollum, and it got me thinking about some things. Like how I really want to get back to school for a degree in religion. Engineering is enjoyable, and it pays well, but it's not where my heart is. I don't know how I'm going to give

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[justben]

There are a lot of reasons to respect a wrong belief. The biggest -- and the one that I'm trying hardest to learn -- is that just because something appears wrong to me doesn't necessarily mean that it's really wrong. People are generally well-meaning. When they say something that really sets me off, I'm learning that it's usually an communication issue. They say one thing, and my brain focuses on a different subtlety entirely and comes up with a completely different meaning. When I step back and hear what they're actually saying, the problem often goes away.

Even when I'm hearing them exactly right, though, I'm learning that often disagreements are based in ignorance -- either theirs or mine -- and are often happily corrected. The trick lies in approaching the disagreement not as a necessary conflict -- which is my habit -- but as a misunderstanding to be bridged. I'm learning that if I ask what someone means when they say something I find unfair, and when I present them gently with other possibilities in the form of questions, in general they tend to react much less defensively, instead exploring a way to bridge the gap together. I mean, I can't take credit for the idea: it's classic Socratic dialog as a teaching technique. And just as often, the questioning reveals that I misunderstood their point in the first place. Either way, the conflict is resolved.

Sometimes even that doesn't work. Sometimes the disagreement really does boil down to a fundamental difference of opinion or of values. If it comes to that, though, if we can get to a point that we can understand each other and our differences, then I can at least respect their ability to reflect on what they believe. I may not agree with it, but we can respectfully disagree. And I'm learning that I value that respect more than I value the knowledge that I proved them wrong.

As for the "Jesus loves you" comment, I'm afraid I didn't fully explain the context and the story behind it. Patrick told a story of his early days in hospital chaplaincy. A patient in the ER had called for a chaplain and got him. They asked him, "Does Jesus love me?" He sat there thinking how to respond, since he as a pagan doesn't really have the same believe in Jesus as the patient probably did. And in the time that he sat there thinking about it, the patient died.

In reflecting on the situation, he realized that he didn't exactly help the patient much. He could have helped a lot more by asking what the patient meant. If he gave the patient a chance to explain what he meant with the question, he might've been been able to come to some degree of empathy with the patient and given him a more helpful answer. Or, in an emergency, he might have been able to recognize the deeper question the patient was asking and then answer it in a language the patient could understand. Experience teaches when the questions are worth the time.

The short answer, though, is that "Jesus loves you" is a lie only when it's an attempt to deceive. When it's a best attempt at comfort in a tough situation, though, it might be just the right thing to say. The lesson I took from it is that sometimes the act of communication is more important than the theological argument.

[joyeuse13]

Ah, so you don't mean people who are wrong, but rather people whom you think are wrong. (I see no reason to respect the beliefs of someone who thinks the earth is flat.)

Regarding your friend the hospital chaplain--honestly, I'd think he would have given the Jesus question some thought before he took the job, considering that the vast majority of the people he'd be dealing with in a public chaplaincy would almost certainly be some flavor of Christian...

While I'd certainly place the comfort of a dying patient over theological hair-splitting, I'd feel a bit of a condescending ass assuring someone, "yes, of course Jesus loves you," solely because I know that's what they need to hear. Which is why I'd better not put myself in that situation. :)

[justben]

I've heard people make really sketchy historical and scientific claims, but I've rarely had the opportunity to find out what's going through their heads. Usually when I do hear them, it's not something that's worth arguing. More precisely, I've found that I have a habit of arguing the point when presented with the opportunity, and that doing so usually makes the situation worse rather than fixing or clarifying anything.

I don't mean to speak for Mr McCollum, but I suspect that he had previously considered the question of Jesus. As you said, he'd certainly be working with a fair number of Christians. If he's anything like me he might've thought of a variety of ways to tackle that question with someone in the relative comfort of a hospital bed and the relative leisure of a long recovery. If I hadn't attended his presentation, though, I might not have considered the need for a split-second answer to comfort a patient in the ER on his deathbed.

I can imagine the "Yes, Jesus loves you" answer becoming condescending, but I don't think it has to be. Condescension implies a certain descent, but if such a statement can be approached from common ground with a respect for the other's different worldview and with an eye toward the values behind the statement rather than the theological arguments on its surface, then condescention gives way to compassion.

I don't mean to suggest that I can live up to this model at this point in my life. In fact, I suspect I have a good deal of learning to get there. It makes me sad, though, to think that right now I have reflexive emotional responses that prevent me from using my talents in the area in some places where it could be quite beneficial.