Archive for category: Chaplain’s Corner

“Gracious Words”

I have just returned from Stratford, Ontario where I spent three days at the Stratford Festival which is one of the finest theatres you will find in North America.  I saw five plays in three days and the acting was outstanding.  For years it was called the Shakespeare Festival because a majority of the plays were Shakespeare’s.  We always see a couple of Shakespeare’s plays each year and marvel at his brilliance.  No one has ever written in the English language as marvelously as William Shakespeare.  Most of us quote him every week, but don’t even realize it.

Have you ever felt “footloose and fancy free?”

Been “left high and dry?”

Passed a test that was “a piece of cake?”

Have you ever sent someone “packing?”

Or “refused to budge an inch?”

Been “tongue tied”?

Suspected you have been “hoodwinked?

Kept a commitment “through thick and thin?””

Know someone who was a “tower of strength?”

Found yourself in a “pickle?”

Or “knitted your brow?”

Have you ever slept “not one wink?”

Realized it was “high time you did something?”

Explained that this is “the long and short of it?”

Wondered about a situation for which there is “no rhyme or reason?”

Said “for goodness sake?”

Declared that “it’s all Greek to me?”

If so then you’ve been borrowing in the words of history’s greatest playwright.  Not that Shakespeare would care in the least.

Literary critic Elliott Engel observes that his phrases were “so perfect and clever in their expression that people recognized them as works of genius, stole them on the spot, used them in front of their children, and they became part of common parlance.”   Most of us are considerably less confident in our own ability to find just the right words to express our deepest sentiments.  That’s why Hallmark exists right?

Or far better still we can surrender our hang-ups about originality and speak to others with kindness and sincerity.  Here are some all-time winners:

Thanks, I’m so glad to know you.

I’m grateful we’re in this together.

What can I do to help?

You always bring out the best!

I appreciate you.  

I love you.

As the writer of Proverbs puts it, “Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing in the bones.” (16:24)  The effect of such simple affirmations on other human beings is impossible to overstate.  Especially if (as Shakespeare first put it) they come from the bottom of your heart.

Faithfully,

Ron Naylor, Chaplain

“A Beautiful Heart”

In the movie “A Beautiful Mind” Russell Crowe plays a Nobel Prize winning mathematician John Nash.  The film recounts the true story of Nash’s decent into schizophrenia, followed by his agonizing attempts to regain something of a “normal life” as a Princeton University Professor in the middle of the twentieth century.  But the story behind that story is just as notable.  It’s the story of Alicia Nash’s resilient love for her husband.

It’s challenging enough to marry the ultimate math nerd (although it’s worth noting she herself was a gifted physicist).  But when Nash begins to drift across the boundary between fantasy and reality, it seems impossible for their relationship to endure.  As he plunges into despair Alicia says gently, “You want to know what is real?”  She puts her hand to his heart and his hand on her face:  “This is real…”

How does she cope as he vanishes into a schizophrenic fog?  “I look at him and I force myself to see the man I married, and he becomes that man.  He’s transformed into someone that I love.  And I am transformed into someone that loves him.”

Americans by and large subscribe to the myth that real love is a wonderful feeling that carries us along, sometimes even against our will, instead of a miraculous choice that must be made, again and again, in order to keep our relationships alive and well.  Feelings follow choices.  Like Alicia, we can look at each other with “grace-eyes”-much as we look with transforming kindness upon a loved one whose personality has become clouded by dementia, yet who is still there.

It is impossible to read the Apostle Paul’s letters, now twenty centuries old and not be struck by his call to relational intentionality:  “Since you have been chosen by God who has given you this new kind of life, and because of His deep love and concern for you; you should practice tenderhearted mercy and kindness to others.  Don’t worry about making a good impression on them, but be ready to suffer quietly and patiently.  Be gentle and ready to forgive; never hold grudges.  Remember the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others”. (Colossians 2:12-14)  Then he adds, “And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” (Colossians 2:15)

Paul seems to be thinking of a girdle or belt, which was a standard piece of first century clothing.  After putting on one’s tunic and cloak, the girdle “held it all together,” making it possible to walk and work.

Love—choosing to act, regardless of feelings, in ways that will bless another person-is what allows every marriage, every friendship, and every partnership to keep going forward.

“A Beautiful Mind” closes with Nash accepting his Nobel Prize in Stockholm, Sweden 30 years ago. The brilliant mathematician, having found his way back to sanity looks over the audience:  “I’ve always believed in numbers, in equations, in logic and reason.  But after a lifetime of such pursuits I ask:  What truly is logic?  Who decides reason?  My quest has taken me to the physical, the metaphysical, the delusional, and back.  I have made the most important discovery of my career-the most important discovery of my life.  It is only in the mysterious equations of love that any logic or reason can be found.”  Then he looks at Alicia sitting in the crowd:  “I am only here tonight because of you.”

Most of us will never be celebrated as someone with a beautiful mind.  But we can all know something even more profound.  We can all experience the wonder of a beautiful heart.

Faithfully,

Ron Naylor, Chaplain

“Never Alone”

It’s easy to argue that there has never been a better time to be old.  Senior adults, in general, are
the beneficiaries of more opportunities, better healthcare, greater disposable income, and longer
life than any generation in history.

During the heyday of the Roman Empire, average life expectancy was 28.  Today across the
world, it’s approaching 75.  This sunny picture, nevertheless, is crisscrossed by shadows.

If you yearn for societal respect, this is far from the best time to be old.  As Atul Gawande notes in
his 2014 best seller “Being Mortal”, people in previous generations used to lie to census takers
about their age.  They claimed to be older than they actually were.  These days people hope and
pray they are misidentified as younger. A century ago, if you needed to understand something
about the world, you would talk to an old timer.  Today we get our answers from Google.  And if
your computer is acting up, just ask your grandchild to make things right.

Gawande believes there is an even greater crisis when it comes to aging.  Instead of being a time
for celebration, reflection, and anticipation, growing old has largely become one medical
intervention after another.  He writes, “We in the medical world have proved alarmingly
unprepared for it.”  At the time of his writing, fewer than 300 new gerontologists-physicians
specializing in senior medical care-were entering the work force every year, not nearly enough to
replace retiring doctors and meet the overwhelming challenges of America’s rapidly aging
demographic.

What do we actually know about aging?  It’s not easy for one.  “We just fall apart,” says Felix
Silverstone, the senior geriatrician of the Parker Jewish Institute in New York City.  “Old age is a
series of losses.”

But that’s not the question most older adults really care about.  The real question is how to make
life worth living, even if when we’re feeble and frail and less able to fend for ourselves. Where
can we find the companionship in the face of loneliness? How can we experience meaning in the
midst of weakness?  Who can impart to us an enduring sense of dignity?  Gawande says it well:
“Our most cruel failure in how we treat the sick and aged is the failure to recognize that they have
priorities beyond merely being safe and living longer; that the chance to shape one’s story is
essential in sustaining meaning in life.”

What do we learn in Scripture about growing older?  We got the very same answer:  It’s not easy.
But we also learn aging does not signify the end of life.  It’s the journey we take on the way to an
experience of life that will never come to an end. Sooner or later everything slips through our
fingers and there’s nothing you can do about it.  But that’s OK.  You can never slip through God’s
fingers.  He will never let you go.  As Jesus said to the beleaguered, wretched, remorseful, yet
hopeful thief dying not far from him on Calvary, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in
Paradise.”  (Luke 23:23)

Old age can feel like a never ending series of losses.  But it can also be a time of never ending
reminders that we’re not walking this path by ourselves. The Creator who’s got the whole world in
His hands has got you too.

Faithfully,
Ron Naylor, Chaplain

“Coincidences”

In director M. Night Shyamalan’s 2002 movie Signs, Mel Gibson plays Graham Hess, a man who used to believe in God. In fact he used to be an Episcopal Priest. But a seemingly random and meaningless accident has taken the life of his wife, leaving him with two small children. His son, Morgan is stricken with asthma. To Graham, these family disasters are evidence that there is no God. Or at least a God who gives a rip about people in pain.

Early in the film they’re facing an entirely different kind of crisis-pervasive global panic that extraterrestrials are poised to land on earth. Crop circles mysteriously appear in the cornfields on the Hess Farm. Are these signs or indicators that something terrible is about to happen? In light of this, Graham says to his brother: “People break down into two groups. When they experience something lucky, group number one sees it as more than luck, more than coincidence. They see it as a sign-evidence that there is someone up there watching out for them.” Group number two, he goes on, “see it as just pure luck.” When the members of group two experience a crisis, “Deep down, they feel that whatever happens, they’re on their own. And that fills them with fear.” People in group number one, he explains, see the same data and come to different conclusions. “They’re looking at a miracle, and deep down, they feel that whatever happens, there will be someone there to help them. And that fills them with hope.”

Graham then turns to his brother and asks the movie’s central question: So you have to ask yourself, what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, that sees miracles, or do you believe that people just get lucky? Or look at the question this way: is it possible that there are no coincidences?

The Bible is essentially a collection of stories about these two groups: those who journey hopefully because of their trust in God, and those who go through life fearfully because they assume they’re on their own. During the movie, Graham has to decide if there is sufficient evidence-enough “signs”–to bet his life once again that reality resides in group one. The movie has an underlying message that resonates with those who have concluded that life’s smallest details always matter, and that (under the providence of God) there are no coincidences. Life’s little signs are evidence of a divine presence.

By the end of the film, Graham Hess has to make up his mind if all those little things point to a God who is actually there–and who actually cares. Which is the decision we have to make every day as well.

Faithfully,
Ron Naylor, Chaplain

“The Ministry of Presence”

When someone is hurting, it’s tempting to think our call as friends and family is to do something amazing or to say something unusually wise. But most of the time, the need of the hour is simply to show up.

In his best-selling book, “How to Know a Person”, David Brooks recounts the story of a professor who teaches decision-making skills to first year medical students. Out of the blue, Nancy Abernathy’s world was shattered when her 50 year old husband died of a heart attack while cross-country skiing. Nancy continued teaching throughout that winter and spring. During one class she casually mentioned that she dreaded the start of next year’s course. That’s when she invited students to bring a family photo so they might get to know each other. How could she hold up a picture of her late husband and not break down in tears?

Summer came and went. The fall semester arrived and so did the dreaded day. When she stepped into her lecture hall, bracing herself for the painful memories, she noticed something was different. There were way too many people in the room. Her new students were there. But so were last year’s students.  They had come to be with her at this tender moment. As Nancy later reflected, their silent presence was the ultimate gift of compassion.

When David Brooks was teaching at Yale, he got to know a student named Jillian Sawyer. She recently lost her father to pancreatic cancer. Before he died, Jillian and her dad had talked about all the things he was going to miss in her life. He wouldn’t be there on her wedding day. There would be no father-daughter dance. He wouldn’t have the joy of meeting any children that came into her life.  Sometime later, Jillian was a bridesmaid at the wedding of a friend. The father of the bride offered glowing remarks about his daughter’s curiosity and spirit, then joined her for that special dance. Jillian excused herself and walked towards the ladies room, where she had a good cry. When she came back out, all those who had been sitting at her table were waiting for her.

“What I will remember forever,” Jillian recalls, “is that no one said a word. I am still amazed at the profoundness that can echo in silence.” There were hugs. “They were just there for me, just for a moment. And it was exactly what I needed.”

Years ago, when I was going through the hardest time in my life after losing my daughter to cystic fibrosis a pastor friend came to see me. It wasn’t so much what he said to me because he didn’t try to spend a long time trying to explain away what had happened. He just sat-shared some coffee and tears.  This dovetails with the Apostle Paul’s gentle words in Romans 12:15: “Mourn with those who mourn.”

Notice what Paul doesn’t say. He doesn’t advise his readers to tell a grieving person that everything’s going to be OK. Or to give them the contact information of a local grief therapy group. Or provide an explanation for why this awful thing happened. Or tell them not to cry. It’s deeply reassuring to note that Jesus in the presence of grieving friends, shed tears.

Being present, paying attention to a hurting person, noticing their circumstances, sustaining a heightened awareness of what they are experiencing, is a powerful gift. Where is God when life hurts? Until we’re all in the next world, we won’t be fully able to answer that question. But in the meantime we can know how to answer a corollary question.

Where should WE be when life hurts? We should be nearby, giving the gift of simply showing up–the ministry of presence.

Faithfully,

Ron Naylor, Chaplain