Chaplain Interrupted
by Jim Barry, C.P.
I live a ministry of interruptions, as a clinical hospital chaplain and a Passionist priest. I never know to which section of the hospital I will be called, sometimes to Intensive Care, sometimes to the Emergency Room, sometimes to Hospice, sometimes to the Cardiac Cath Lab, sometimes to the operating room... and so on.
At any given moment, I never know what will happen. But I do know that the Passionist spirit, the Spirit of God’s presence is with me, and enables me to minister in the midst of great suffering. A general hospital is like a huge magnet that pulls in suffering people from all walks of life and many different religious beliefs, as well as people of no particular faith. In each situation, I have to try to be open and give peace.
When a person is seriously ill, they are usually more open to God and to the Spirit. Each patient is like a living document, and I feel it is an important part of my ministry to help the patient understand the document of their own life. They need to realize that God has been with them all along, even in the midst of worry, suffering and pain.
An extreme case
Our hospital serves as a “trauma hospital” for major accidents. We receive over three hundred helicopter emergency visits a year, and over 150,000 people are treated in the ER. Sometimes I am called to patients who are lonely because they miss their family members, or they are far away from home. Perhaps I must call Boston, Chicago, Mexico or Germany in order to help a patient establish contact with family members in faraway places. Once this important contact takes place, the patient usually relaxes a bit and profits even more from medical treatments.
I can remember one patient who was crushed by an industrial forklift weighing over 5000 pounds. Almost every bone in his body was broken. He was so seriously injured that it looked as if he would die. The surgeons tried to attend to the most serious wounds first, but they too expected him to die even though he was conscious through all this. I remember talking to him and praying with him. He mentioned his little son and how he had to get better to take care of him and his mom.
This good man went through more than fifteen operations and spent one year in rehab. But the most amazing thing was that he healed from all these surgeries without infection. He is now able to walk, and once again enjoys good health. I believe it was his faith and love for his family that enabled him to get through this tremendous pain and suffering.
A few weeks after the accident, I was in the room when he forgave his partner, a mechanic whose carelessness had caused this accident that almost killed this patient. His ability to forgive gave him new strength and energy to focus on healing and to cooperate with the doctors and therapists. In my experience, healing tends to happen more quickly when there is meaning and forgiveness in the patient’s attitude toward life. When there is bitterness and lack of forgiveness, then healing usually occurs more slowly.
My years at Lutheran General Hospital have taught me that when a person is seriously sick, three things become very important. Friends, Family and Faith.
Friends
You find out who your true friends are when you are sent to a hospital. Your acquaintances will not usually visit but your friends will visit, even if they hate hospitals and are at a great distance. They visit because of their friendship with you. The supportive presence of ordinary friends means so much and helps one to heal. Some friendships have been going on for ten, twenty, even forty years, and when you are ill, these friends play a big part in your healing process.
Family
At least half of my ministry takes place in hospital corridors, private meeting rooms, or the lobby by the elevators. I try to be a “presence” that helps the family of the patient make some sense out of all the things that are quickly happening to try to save the patient or get them through the initial shock of this traumatic event. In this situation, I usually say little but listen and support much. I try to make sure that the family members understand exactly what the doctors are saying, and that the doctors hear the concerns of the patient and their family members who care for them very much.
Faith
When an infant dies, there is very little I can say that will give consolation and help to the parents at this catastrophic time in their lives. But I can be there to listen and support them in their grief. I can help them hold their baby, pray and cry over their beautiful child. It seems to mean a great deal to the parents and grandparents that the chaplain is there to help.
At that moment of intense sorrow, the chaplain represents God or their faith community and this makes them feel supported. Sometimes the parents will get angry with God for letting this happen. They will even get angry with me, because in this situation I am a symbol of God and they are grief-stricken and emotionally destroyed. They have been waiting for this child for nine months, and suddenly their child is dead.
“Why did this happen? Why didn’t God save my beautiful little girl, why, why, why?” You are not an experienced chaplain unless you have been yelled at, or cursed at, or thrown out of a room.
But that’s okay. Maybe the parents just need to vent their anger. If I am a safe and accepting person, and listen to them, I become a “safe harbor” for their tormented feelings and tears. My ministry at this time is to be there and just “hold the chaos.” After a few minutes of intense anger and tears the person will usually take some deep breaths and calm down a little. They will often listen to my advice if they feel I have truly listened to their anger and pain... in the present moment when it is happening.
At a time like this, I need to make ‘pastoral judgments’ and I always offer the benefit of the doubt to the patient and family members. So, for example, if the baby has just died in birth, the parents often ask for the sacrament of Baptism. I do an emergency Baptism, trusting that God will supply that which is needed for this beautiful child…and for this family with strong faith who are suffering so much. In their gratitude, these families often get in touch with the chaplains later to let us know how much help our ministry was at that most difficult time in their lives.
So it is a wonderful Passionist ministry to be a hospital chaplain. I hope I will have the stamina to continue in it for many years into the future. The Passion of our Lord lives constantly in my heart. 
Fr. Jim Barry, C.P. is a clinically certified chaplain at Lutheran General Hospital in Chicago Illinois.
