The past three weeks of chaplaincy have taught me a twofold lesson regarding the word "no." First, I have an inability to say it when someone asks something of me. For example, although the CPE supervisor advised all of the chaplains not to give out our phone numbers, I gave my number to the secretary on the floor of the ICU, who asked for it when I introduced myself as the chaplain for the unit. That very day she called me with a pastoral care emergency. The reason for the caution around giving out our numbers is that 1) we can be paged, and 2) the secretaries may assume that we're available 24/7, which is not the case.
On the flip side, I have learned not to immediately accept "no" for an answer. There have been a few occasions where I have introduced myself to patients as the chaplain and received a polite "no thank you" in response to my invitation to talk. Patients have all sorts of pre- and misconceptions of what it is I'm there to do, which is not to judge, debate, or convert them. I don't enter a room with an agenda, but rather seek to meet patients where they are, present a friendly face, and offer to talk about their concerns. The conversation is neither aimed nor aimless but flows naturally toward what my supervisor calls the "recovery of soul."
Just yesterday I entered the room of an elderly woman who initially told me that she didn't want to talk. Rather than accept her refusal, which probably would have been my instinct a few weeks ago, I just kept talking. I can't remember what I said or asked, but it became clear within a few seconds that she actually wanted to talk but probably assumed that I had come to her with an agenda. When it became clear to her that I came into the room unarmed, she put down her defenses and we talked a good 15 minutes. At one point she even said to me, "You're going to win people with that smile."
If true, that bodes well for me, because as draining as this job is, I can't seem to stop smiling.
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...
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