Strangers like me

 

So you may be thinking, "Why did Emily post what is essentially a love song between a jungle boy and a rich girl?"

Let me start here. One of my spiritual practices during CPE has been to listen to broadway music during my drive to and from Livonia. Granted, this has left me singing songs from multiple musicals in my sleep, but it has been a good practice because it gets my mind off of the difficult stuff so I can leave it at the hospital.

So one day this song came on and I thought, "Hm. Strangers like me... That sounds familiar..."

My work at the hospital is full of strangers. This is one of my dislikes about hospital chaplaincy. Unlike church work, where week after week, month after month, year after year, you deal with the same group of people (give or take a few), the hospital is populated by strangers. And as someone who thrives in ongoing community, especially the work of bringing people together to think through church life and theological quandaries, essentially the work of becoming together... well, the hospital just isn't that place. Sure, a chaplain may see people for a week or even a month if the patient is in rehab, but even at that it remains very individual work.

Here is the chunk of lyrics that I am focused on from this song: 

"Oh, these emotions I never knew

Of some other world far beyond this place

Beyond the trees, above the clouds

Oh, I see before me a new horizon

I wanna know, can you show me

I wanna know about these strangers like me

Tell me more, please show me

Something's familiar 'bout these strangers like me."

"Oh these emotions..."
All throughout the CPE program we are digging deeper to get at our emotions. It's not unusual to feel like I'm sitting in therapy during my Wednesday class time with my peers because our supervisor will frequently ask us "How did you feel when ____  happened?" (And no, the answer cannot be "fine"... well it can but you have to have a really good rationale.) So it's emotionally draining work, not only the hospital visits but the class time, too. The benefit of CPE is that it brings up all kinds of stuff from my past, my family system, my expectations, my relationships that help me to see "a new horizon" where I can differentiate between my emotional baggage and another's so that I can do better ministry. That is not to say that after CPE everything will be figured out and I will be able to draw hard and fast emotional distinctions in every interaction because emotions are messier than that. However, it has prepared me for an emotional "world far beyond" the one I have been living.


"Something's familiar about these strangers like me..."
One of the exercises we do in CPE is called "Cultural Narratives." We write a two page family history including major cultural shifts, interactions with diverse communities, and personal place in our family system. After someone reads their narrative aloud, the process that follows includes naming connections, disconnections, and curiosities. Essentially we name the places where we have had a familiar experience, where we know nothing about that experiences, and where we have questions (respectively). This translates into patient work because we then pick either a connection, disconnection, or curiosity and frame it in a way that we would speak to a patient.

Here's a made-up example...

• The cultural narrative says, "I come from a long line of family members in the armed forces. I am not continuing that as I am seeking ordination."
• I say, as a point of disconnection, "I don't know what it's like to have a history of military involvement in my family."
• My reframing for patient care: "How does that family history impact how you see the world?"

So the other night when I visited with a patient and he started talking about his involvement in multiple symphonies and pit orchestras playing woodwind instruments (primarily clarinet), I felt an immediate connection. It was great! I never mentioned to him that I also played clarinet for nine years and that I love broadway shows, but his stories gave me a gateway to become more curious than I usually am because I had the language and familiarity. I may not be a straight white married man in my 70's, but I do know something about music. "Strangers like me..." 

Of course it's easier to connect when we can relate. I struggle when I don't have that place of connection. It requires staying in the conversation long enough to really hear what the other person is saying. Perhaps that's an emotion that I understand ("That's frustrating.") or an experience I've never had ("What was that like?")... but it requires paying close attention to the other person. 

This is what people in caring professions usually call "empathy"-- being able to feel the feeling the other person is experiencing because as a human, you also know that feeling. Hence, my example about frustration above. It's not always that easy... sometimes I run into people who have had a really challenging life and are now fraught with medical issues and they have no family left. I don't know loneliness like that, or overwhelm like that... so I simply sit in it with them, perhaps in silence, perhaps in prayer. My approach may change person to person, but no matter what, it still requires a sense of genuine care for the other. (Note to self: Write a blog post about my understanding of empathy.)

"I wanna know about these strangers like me." Jesus dealt with strangers all the time. Rachel Held Evans, a great blogger on Christianity, ministry, and more, recently wrote this blog post in which she stated, "If Jesus started with the outliers, why shouldn't we?" Strangers can be people that are unfamiliar to us, in which case we can be curious about them-- ask questions and get to know them. Strangers can also be people we consider outliers or outsiders, in which case, we should treat them as Jesus would, with care, compassion, and empathy. ((Disclaimer: we still need to use our common sense when we feel as though we are in danger. Trust G-d but tie up your camel.)) 

So here's me holding myself accountable through my writing. When I go to work today, I will do my best to be curious about people. To show compassion. To be empathetic. To ask questions. To make a point of un-stranger-ing the patients. 

And I encourage you to do the same. The more genuine care and compassion we share, the more human we become, the more love is spread, the better the world becomes. 

Will you join me?