Two days ago I began a summer intensive unit of clinical pastoral education, or CPE, as its commonly known. I'll spend the next ten weeks serving as a full-time chaplain at Capital Health. Capital Health operates two hospitals: one in Trenton and one in suburban Hopewell. They are about 5 miles--and for all intents and purposes--a world apart from each other. Trenton is urban, older, bigger, busier, and a full-on trauma center, meaning patients with any type of traumatic injury (e.g., accident, gunshot) can receive care. Hopewell is brand-spanking new, with every modern convenience, including a spa, and is surrounded by lush, rolling hills. Given its setting and the fact that it's not a trauma center, the atmosphere at Hopewell is more like a hotel than a hospital.
I'm one of seven interns in the program. I don't think I could ask for a better group. We're a diverse lot in age, race, country of origin, faith background, and personality, but not so much gender (six males but only one female). We have a former army colonel, corrections officer, and cement manufacturer. Despite the diversity, we're all under the supervision of a certified chaplain.
Today we learned from the chaplain which hospital we'll be assigned to, and which section of the hospital. I expressed a desire to work with HIV/AIDS patients, which I had assumed would see me placed at Trenton, which is, in fact, where I'll be. I won't be working solely with people with HIV/AIDS, but the sections of the hospital I'll be covering include such patients.
Everyone I have spoken to about CPE has said what a transformative experience it was for them, and I don't expect anything different for myself. I experienced a profoundly moving experience on my very first patient visit yesterday. More on that in the next post.
This sermon was delivered at Yale Divinity School in 2020 for the class Sacred Moments in African-American Preaching. I begin with a simple observation. Of the four canonical gospels, Matthew is the only one that ends with the words of Jesus. Mark, Luke, and John all end in the narrator’s voice, but Matthew closes with the words of Jesus. Mark ends at the tomb, with the women fleeing in terror and amazement. Luke ends with the disciples in Jerusalem, praising at the temple. John ends on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias, with a dialogue between Jesus and Peter. And here Matthew ends with the disciples in Galilee, meeting Jesus at the mountain where he had directed them. Matthew gives Jesus the last word. But before we get to those last words, there are three other words in this passage that I call to our attention because I find them astonishing. Let me read verse 17 once more. “When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some do...
Best of luck John. I know you will be doing great work.
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