Journal of Sacred Work

Days 364-365 - Walking Graciously Through Life

"To think that we have at our disposal the biggest thing in the universe, and that it is language. What on can do with language is...infinite." - Helene Cixious

   As regular readers of the Journal know, I am continuously fascinated by the language of small children. Vacationing in Boston, I listen to the way my six-year-old and three-year-old grandchildren see the world.

   Yesterday, the six year-old wanted to see the movie "Yogi Bear." I read a review that described it as "a waste of time." When I told my grandson, he said, "That's just what adults think."

   Naturally, he loved it, laughing like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Beyond that, he and I had a little adventure.

   The movie was far out on the edge of town. In addition to a long trip on the subway, we calculated we walked a total of about six miles in the cold. Sometimes, he rode on my shoulders. Most of the time. we just walked along as he peppered me with snowballs and a wide range of six-year-old observations:

   "Why do adults argue?" he asked. I told him that adults have disagreements just like children. "But, why do they sometimes shout?" I didn't have a good answer to that one.

   Amid all the language at our disposal, and with all the education many of us have had, why do we feel the need to shout? It's frustration, of course. It's the feeling we're not being heard. But, shouting makes being heard more difficult.

   Frustrated patients shout their anger. Surgeons shout their displeasure. Supervisors shout commands.   

   Then there are those who, "walk graciously through life." This is one of John O'Donohue's phrases. I quote him often because his words are among the most eloquent I encounter.

   Read O'Donohue's book, Beauty, and you will discover this. Pick a sentence at randoem. You will find how brilliantly he words difficult concepts. "When we hold beauty and truth together, truth will always have a sense of compassion and gentleness, " he writes.  

   I'm not sure I agree with Helene Cixious' observation that language is "the biggest thing in the universe." But, by stating the concept so boldly, she provokes us.

   Language binds us - and can drive us apart. Language, through poetry and fine prose, can elevate us to transcendent experiences of beauty. Language between lovers can lift relationships to other-worldly states. Language can help heal the sick. Language can enable us to "walk graciously through life."

   At the end of 2010, we speak the language of the year past and hopes for the future. I have the chance to speak gratitude to each of you for coming to this Journal where we share the language of Love.

   Liz Wessel and I are grateful to each of you - especially those who choose to comment. You enrich our experience with the way you engage your particular gift of words as you express what truly is "the biggest thing in the universe - Love.

-Erie Chapman  

Days 361-363 - Beauty: The Unfilled Gap

"Nothing can fill the gap/ When we are away from those we love and it would be/ Wrong to try to find anything/ Since leaving the gap unfilled preserves the bond between/ Us. It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap./ He does not fill it but keeps it empty, so that our communion/ With another may be kept alive even at the cost of pain."  - Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letter & Papers from Prison

   As I write you, I am in a city swept by a blizzard. This Boston blizzard means "white-outs" - the phenomenon where weather interferes with the ability to see more than a few feet.

  Out of doors, we are isolated in such conditions. Our relationship to the rest of the world is cut shallow.  

   Often, I find comfort in walking through falling snow if I am dressed for it. Boots and a winter coat make me feel wrapped in the storm rather than punished by it.   

   But, what coat protects our souls from our winters of despair? What fills the gap of being separated from those we love and from Love itself?     

    If we, and those we care for, can remain strong through these empty seasons - the times of agony when God holds us in the hard territory of "empty" - we may finally find the greatest beauty life can offer.  

   What is this "gap?" It is the space between physical gratification and spiritual fulfillment.

   Some WWII concentration camp victims experienced a strange joy at the very bottom of physical need. Deprived of everything the world offered, they crossed the gap and, like Job, discovered God.

   Sadly, an increasing number of Americans, in the midst of worldly health and wealth, decide they don't need God. They only seem to discover God, if at all, when they are tossed into despair. 

   God is not here to meet our physical appetites. God's Love waits to fill our hearts only when we surrender our fixation on worldly fulfillment.

   I heard this wisdom from my friend Rhonda Swanson who, in the depths of suffering during treatment for two different kinds of cancer, said, "Erie, down here, it's only me and God. No one else is with me in this awful emptiness." 

   Caregivers live next to suffering. You, as a caregiver, seek to relieve suffering. You also know that morphine cannot heal despair.   

   Shortly before he was executed by the Nazis, theologian Dietrich Bonhoffer lived moments of isolation where only God could help.  Facing death, Bonhoffer came to understand why Jesus cried from the cross "God, why hast thou forsaken me?" For awhile, God left the gap empty for before granting Jesus eternal heaven.   

   It's so hard to wait for God when despair lies heavy. It is so difficult to know that on the other side of the unfilled gap lies Beauty.

   As John O'Donohue writes: "Beauty shines with a light from beyond itself. Love is the name of that light."

-Reverend Erie Chapman    

Days 359-360 O Holy Night

"Let us find revelation not solely in the past, nor live only for the future but  rejoice in the present moment where all time is joined together"

~ St. Matthew"s Liturgy

Merry Christmas!

Love,

~liz

Days 357-358 - Beauty's Eve

"A beautiful thing, though simple in its immediate presence, always gives us a sense of depth below depth, almost an innocent wild vertigo as one falls through its levels." Frederick Turner

 
   I awoke around midnight to the magic sound of walnuts being cracked open on the fireplace hearth in the next room. It was Santa!

   My excitement knew only one boundary: My father's stern warning to me and my sisters not to enter the Christmas-flooded living room until he gave the signal at dawn.

   It was Christmas Eve, 1950 (more than a year after the photo at left). Oddly, I remember that last night of my belief in Santa (I was seven) more than I do anything I got on Christmas day.

   The sound of those walnuts was "A beautiful thing, though simple in its immediate presence." It created not only excitement but a hope that bounded across my heart like a shooting star.

   At a "depth below depth," that simple noise created proof to me that Santa had, in fact (and against all the odds) actually found our house. Gee Willikers! Santa and his reindeer would soon jump the backyard wall and visit my friend Jill's home as well!

   The beauty of hope is that it is a vessel of mystery. It exists as possibility. 

   The colors of Beauty's hope can only be painted by our imagination. The reality of the world - even the best presents beneath the angel-topped evergreen, can rarely exceed the perfection that lives in Christmas Eve's imagining.

   Each day and night, some part of us hopes for miracles. In this season, Christians celebrate the ancient and always-new hope that rises as we imagine the Magi seeking to discover the Messiah.  

   We know of the Messiah's discovery by the Magi. What of our own discovery? As you care for those in need, can you feel the presence of Love's gift as you reach to touch the pain of others? Do you sense this presence healing your own heart?

   The always-eloquent John O'Donohue tells us, "Only if there is beauty in us can we recognize beauty elsewhere: beauty knows beauty. In this way, beauty can be a mirror that manifests our own beauty."

   On this Christmas Eve, look in the mirror that reflects beauty from the quiet corners of the room. Look not at the flame of the candle but the way the candle-light illuminates your hands. Listen to the scent the tree sends your way. Hear the silence between the notes of Christmas carols. 

   As you experience these and other images, know that each one "manifests [your] own beauty." It is your beauty that sees the light in another's eyes. It is your beauty that experiences another's joy. It is your beauty that feels the presence of the Love that is the baby in the manger.

-Reverend Erie Chapman       

Note:"Gee Willikers" is an outdated phrase from the 1950s. "Gee," here, was a gentle way to say "Jesus" without sounding like you were swearing. The origin of "Willikers" remains a mystery.

Days 354-356 - The Christmas "Leap of Faith"

"For those with faith, no explanation is necessary. For those without, no explanation is possible." –Saint Thomas Aquinas

 "How can you have faith if you've never known trust?" - Glenn S. - Prisoner #321012 - Riverbend Maximum Security Prison.

   Death Row prisoner Glenn S. keeps teaching me things as I seek to minister to him. They come from the life of a man scheduled to die.  

   Glenn doubts things he can't see. Raised Southern Baptist he is disgusted with how life has treated him. He has turned his back on faith because, as he says, he has "never known trust."

   How would you feel about God if your mother had turned her back on you as a child? What would you think of Jesus if you had been forced to live in nineteen different homes between the ages of seven and fifteen? What would you think about religion if all you heard in church was that you were a sinner damned to hell?

   As a caregiver to Glenn, I want to help him discover his spirituality - some source of hope beyond the confines of his cell and the uncertainties of the legal system. I asked one of my ministers, Rev. April Baker, for help. "Faith comes from doubt." she told me.

   I was startled. How can faith rise up from what seems to be its opposite?

   The more I reflect, the more it becomes clear to me that April is right. Early on, we learn to trust what our five senses tell us. Faith cannot pass this test of five-sense reasoning.

   Reason creates doubt. So, faith requires that we free ourselves from worldly analysis.   

   Reason condemns us to doubt. Faith is grounded in hope that is "unreasonable."   

   This is what Reverend Baker was saying. Glenn can't "trust" the world. But, faith is not about trusting the things of this world, is it? We find in the Bible that, "faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." (Hebrews 11:1)  

   If we are to have faith we must take what Kierkegaard described as the "leap of faith." Centuries ago, the theologian Blaise Pascal explained "Faith is different from proof; the latter is human, the former is a Gift from God."

   What if we don't feel we are experiencing this "Gift?" What if, in the midst of caring for sick adults and suffering children, we find God is not giving us the answers we seek? 

   Perhaps, we should let go of telling God how big our problem is and, instead, tell the problem how big our God is.

   Love is larger than trouble. Love's healing is not only our fondest hope in this world, but our salvation in the eternity in which we already live.

   So long as Glenn is mired in the world he will be vulnerable to the world's shifting winds. Once he leaps over reason and lets himself fall into the misted land of Faith, he will discover the twin Christmas miracles we all seek: Hope and Love.

 -Reverend Erie Chapman

Days 352-353 Moments of Grace

 “Sometimes, when I find myself in the grayness of life, beauty may arise as a startling Grace.” ~Candace Nagle

The above words written by Journal contributor Candace Nagle resonate, don't they?  She goes on to say, “It can be in the most mundane things, where miracles hide and wait to be discovered. Today it arrives in the quiet darkness of predawn, the weight against my side of my cat, Frankie, and the gentle sound of rain. The sweet beauty of this moment is filled with the Presence of God.”

I experienced one of these moments during a recent Thanksgiving visit with my son Lee.  It was late one evening and I had fallen asleep in my make shift bed on the living room couch. I startled awake  to find my son looming above me as I opened my eyes and gasped aloud, then we both laughed.

We began talking and our conversation traveled along a fascinating path from the cosmos to the evolution of life on earth. To witness my sons passion as he shared an illuminating story of the history of life's  unfolding was a Grace-filled moment for me. I felt as though I was listening to a young Joseph Campbell. The breath and depth of his understanding about the interrelatedness of life, from fish, to plants, to humans was extraordinary. I was grateful for the way he openly shared the beauty of his soul with me.

When I let go of my preconceived notions and expectations,  I may experience a sense of emptiness but  then a  spark of the Divine  surprises me.

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.

-   Oliver Herford, I Heard a Bird Sing

                         
The above watercolor is a Christmas card I made for a friend when I was seventeen years of age.  We reconnected last year and my friend still had this card. 

In this season of Advent, may we celebrate  the beauty of simple moments that may arise as a "startling Grace" to bless and affirm eachothers'  lives.

Liz Sorensen Wessel

Days 350-351 - The Infection of Perfection

"It is a wonderful day in a life when one is finally able to stand before the long, deep mirror of one's own reflection and view oneself with appreciation, acceptance and forgiveness." - John O'Donohue

   Amid the joy I felt when I saw our newborn son forty-two years ago, I thought, "I wish I could protect him from the agonies of this world. I wish I could shield him from the mistakes he is sure to make."   
  When I see the precious innocence of our three little grandchildren, I think the same things. Strangely, I am wishing for perfection - no marring, no scarring, no trouble.

   Look closely at the flower (at left) and you will discover it is flawed, as is any other flower. We forgive the flower. Why can't we forgive ourselves?

    Wounding is certain. Wisdom teaches us how to cope not with perfection, but with imperfection. 

   Caregivers are harder on themselves than any group I know. Caregiving in hospitals calls for precision. There is little tolerance for a slip in the operating room and no one wants to hear an "oops" in the Emergency Department or an "Oh no!" from Administration.

   As I often joke in speeches, no surgeon has the luxury of entering the waiting room to shout, "Oh my God, it was so bloody in there!" Professionalism calls for saintly calm and robotic accuracy.  

  What does it mean for a caregiver to be "only human" in her or his work? True professionalism seeks three kinds of wisdom: 1) honesty 2) grace and 3) forgiveness of the self.    

   O'Donohue reminds us of yet another remarkable line Shakespeare gave us: "For with a wound I must be cur'd."

   Wounding is a certain. But it is just as true that only in our wounds are we "cur'd."

   Searching the bloody earth of our deepest pain we discover the stuff of growth and healing.

   Wasn't this true for Jesus? Isn't it true for us as we consider not only his birth, especially at this time of year, but also his suffering? From which do we draw the greatest hope?

   The crime of life is not to make a mistake or to suffer harm. The crime is to waste Pain's expensive lessons - including the need to forgive ourselves, even if nobody else does.

   O'Donohue writes that "so many people are infected with the virus of perfection." Every artist wants to create the ideal painting. Every caregiver wants a perfect, mistake-free career. 

   No "ideal" painting has ever been created. No experienced caregiver has lived a mistake-free career.

    We have a consolation. If we have the courage to keep trying, to rise above ourselves, to reach inside and lift out our best, we will gain glimpses of that perfection that God's Love offers.

    Humility teaches the wise that the window of perfection opens forever in another world, not in this one. The loving pathway across this life calls not for perfection, but for Love and forgiveness.

-Reverend Erie Chapman  

Days 347-349 - Beauty as Our Birthright

  "The beauty of art is beauty born of the spirit and born again." - G.W.F. Hegel (1770-1831) - Aesthetics.  [At left, Adam & Eve - Sistine Chapel - Michelangelo]

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvxS_bJ0yOU 

(Click on the link above if you'd like to enjoy a Chopin Nocturne which reading this entry.)

   As I write this, snow falls in slow motion outside my window. Chopin fills the room beside a wood fire.  A Christmas image of our grand children in pajamas sits on the table nearby.

   Does this image give you a sense of beauty or do you envision beauty in quite another way? What matters is that we find what we believe is beautiful for us and that we choose to swim into it as far as we can, to carry beauty with us as we enter ugliness, to learn how to hear the many shades in her voice.

   Beauty is simultaneously fleeting and always present.

   On October 17, 1818, John Keats wrote to his friend, R. Woodhouse, "I feel assured I should write from the mere fondness and yearning I have for the Beautiful even if my night's labours should be burnt every morning and no eye ever shine on them."

    Keats tells us how to experience Beauty in the moment rather than worrying how long it will last.

    For me, the work of our finest artists continually confirms that the female is the source of beauty. Everything pleasing to the eye - flowers, the moon, a bowl of fruit, the rise and fall of waves, the hills and valleys that make landscape appealing - are all derived from the curves that define the female. Male energy, on the other hand, is more straight than round, more tough than soft, more war-like than nurturing.  

      In spite of this truth, too many are troubled when they encounter some forms of beauty. For example, what about an image of female nudity? It doesn't seem to matter to some whether the nude is presented artistically or degradingly. It's "wrong" either way - even if it adorns the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. 

   Perhaps, you will see beauty shine through in the lines of the model, at left, and in the rocks against which she leans. I made this image more than thirty years ago as a study of soft against hard. If you see beauty in this picture, where do you find it?

   Are you able to carry beauty within you so you may withdraw it from your heart to bring you serenity as you travel your day?

   "The imagination is like a lantern," John O'Donohue wrote. "When our eyes are graced with wonder, the world reveals its wonders to us."

   Our eyes find grace when we see the world with respect. When this grace arrives, beauty suddenly appears in the wrinkles of an old woman's face, in the shape of an otherwise ordinary rock, in the center of a violent storm.

   Likewise, when we see with sacred eyes, our world of caregiving becomes a place of beauty and grace as well as of pain and suffering.

   Beauty is our birthright. When our eyes are "graced with wonder" we can enjoy this greatest of gifts, for beauty and Love are indistinguishable.

-Erie Chapman    

Days 345-346 Evolving Hope

This week I have been listening to a series of talks called, "Evolutionary Christianity." These concepts shared are fascinating to me,  some stretch me from my comfort zone and others are profoundly moving. What I find hopeful is this idea of our human potential. We have the capacity to evolve towards the creation of a better world. Love is the underlying force and motivation of our evolving universe.  Rev. Michael Dowd expressed a beautiful thought when he said, “The universe is expanding in the heart of God.”

 Presently,  I am wrestling with the awareness of how my own worldview can be self-limiting. We know that children begin to internalize messages that will form their self-image at a very early age. Often these messages are not overtly communicated but nonetheless have a significant impact on a child’s self-esteem. My self-perception evolved into a subconscious message of, “I am not worthy” and I think it seeped into every cell of my body.

The experience of wounding in life is inevitable because we are human. Our challenge is to become aware of faulty beliefs so that we can overcome these self-imposed barriers. I believe this is a necessary step if we want to embrace the fullness of life.

 Fortunately, my wounding is only a part of me. As a child, I also experienced love, which enabled me to trust in life. Inquisitive in nature, I am hopeful of the possibility of fulfilling dreams for a better world. A world without war, poverty and injustice. I believe we each carry a seed of great potential. Our quest then, is an inner journey to discover Love's divine Light so that we can reflect it out into our world; a world that is in need of healing. I listen in hopeful wait for the Holy Spirits guidance and direction in my life.

 The following inspiring video tells the story of Jessica Jackley. She is a brilliant young woman who listened, discovered her purpose and seized the moment. Her passionate response completely changed the course of her life and the lives of thousands of others in a beautiful, humbling, and empowering way. I think her story is a shining example of how Love evolves in miraculous ways to change us and our world for the better. Love is a powerful force that can propel us forward towards a greater good. I dream of a world  in which diversity is honored and people learn to live in right relationship with Mother Earth and one another. A world  in which our interconnectedness is understood and reverenced in every way.

Liz Sorensen Wessel

Note: Painting above retrieved from the Internet, Earth day 2009. Video compliments of Karmatube.

  

Days 343-344 - Love, Laugh, Let Go

   The greatest refuge in life is beauty. Remarkably, I tend to forget this obvious truth until I feel myself immersed in something ugly - violence, injustice, or just a bad mood. It is then that some image of beauty rises up to rescue me.

   Sometimes, that image appears in something as everyday as the birds in my backyard. Other times, it may appear in something as gorgeous as Beethoven's Piano Concerto #4 or something else human-made like one of Liz Wessel's mandalas.

   I have three lines posted on the mirror I look into each morning and none of them specifically includes the word Beauty. They are Love, Laugh, Let Go. Which of those words helps the most?

   The answer, for me, is the second one. Obviously, Love is the biggest and most important word there is. But, Love does not always send me clear instructions.

   Letting go is a great concept. It is also the hardest for many people to live.

   When my eyes settle on the single word "laugh," however, some kind of lovely energy passes through me. Laughing acts like a trigger awakening both Love and the experience of letting go. 

   It's difficult to feel up tight when we're laughing. And it's almost impossible to take yourself seriously when good humor shakes open your heart.

   As you can see, I am already taking myself too seriously. The worst writing I do in the Journal comes when I try to hand out instructions.

   But, here's a suggestion anyway. Try putting a word or two up on your mirror. Make it a different word every day for a week. At the end of seven days, see which ones were most helpful.

   This sounds like one of those big self-help things I usually don't like, but it has helped me. In fact, maybe it's time for me to change the words I see each morning so that powerful words don't lose their energy by being repeated too often.  

   We all know that beauty and ugliness flood the world. The more I see of ugliness, the more I know of beauty. And there is no more comforting word to me than this one: Beauty.

   Time for a new word. "Beauty" will appear on my mirror tomorrow morning so that it will be the first word I see. 

   How much wonderful energy flows through your heart when you contemplate that single six-letter word and what it means to you?

-Erie Chapman

Days 340-342 - Circling

"I am circling around God, the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, and I still don't know if I am a falcon or a storm or a great song." - Rainer Maria Rilke

   Some believe we make more than one journey across this earth. Whether or not you think that, I wonder if you reflect as Rilke did. Are you a falcon? A storm? A great song? Something else?

   Rilke's metaphors are lyrical. The falcon seeks. The storm swirls. The great song vibrates through our hearts. Each is a part of our knowing. Each is unknown.

   We are never just one thing. The caregiver is a mother. The mother is a wife. The wife is a daughter and a friend and a seeker of loving relationships. She is also a victim of anger, agony and betrayal. She lives at the center of the storm and lies in the trough of calm. She forever seeks. She sings the great song.

   Do we ever stop to contemplate who we are as we go about the joy and sorrow of caregiving? Thomas Merton wrote that "... the ideas of prayer, meditation and contemplation have been associatedwith [the] deepening of one's personal life and [the] expansion of the capacity to understand and serve others."

   Perhaps, we are more than falcon or storm or song. Perhaps, we are all the same soul, divided into different bodies that choose to live closer or further from God's Love.

   We travel the earth for awhile, searching and swirling. Sometimes we sing to the suffering. Sometimes we suffer ourselves - all the while "circling around God, the ancient tower."  

Reverend Erie Chapman

Days 338-339 Healing Prayer

“To be a saint is to be true to your self.” -Thomas Merton

  

Psalm 27

 

Love is my light and

my salvation,

whom shall I fear?

Love is the strength of

my life,

Of whom shall I be afraid?

~♥~

When fears assail me,

rising up to accuse me,

Each one in turn shall be seen

in Love’s light.

Though a multitude of demons

rise up within me,

my heart shall not fear.

Though doubts and guilt do battle,

yet shall I remain confident.

~♥~

One thing have I asked of Love,

that I shall ever seek:

That I might dwell in the

Heart of Love

all the days of my life,

To behold the Beauty of my Beloved,

and to know Love’s plan.

~♥~

For I shall hide in Love’s heart

in the day of trouble,

As in a tent in the desert,

Away from the noise of my fears.

And I shall rise above

My struggles, my pain,

Shouting blessings of gratitude

In Love’s Heart

And singing melodies of praise

to my beloved.

~♥~

Hear, O my Beloved,

when I cry aloud,

be gracious and answer me!

You have said, “Seek my face.”

My heart responds,

“Your face, my Beloved, do I seek;

hide not your face from me.”

~♥~

Do not turn from me,

You who have been my refuge.

Enfold me in your arms,

O Blessed One.

Though my father and mother

may not understand me,

You, my Beloved, know me and love me.

~♥~

Teach me to be love,

as You are Love:

Lead me through each fear;

Hold my hand as I walk through

valleys of illusion each day,

That I might know your Peace.

~♥~

I believe that I shall know the

Realm of Heaven,

of Love here on Earth!

~♥~

Call upon the Beloved,

be strong and trust

in the heart’s courage.

Trust in the power of Love;

The Beloved’s unconditional and

everlasting love for you.

~♥~

From “Psalms for Praying” by Nan C. Merrill

The above healing Mandala and prayer is for Ron and for all those in need of healing. 

 ~Liz Sorensen Wessel

Days 336-337 - Thickening the Soul?

"The old people say that each object in the universe - seashell, bat's wing, pine cone, patch of lichen - contains some fragment of our missing soul, and so our soul is thin." - Robert Bly

   When I saw the above line from the great poet, Robert Bly, all I could say ask myself was, "missing soul"? I'm not sure about the soul I already have!

   But, Bly pushes the question further. If our soul has been "thinned" by those parts missing, what will thicken it?

   Questions of soul can mean so much to harried caregivers. What happens to our souls when we are called by the needs of others to rush constantly across the day?

   I worry about how much you may let others steal some of your most precious light. What happens when a patient or family member or supervisor fires angry arrows at your heart? How do you restore your soul when this happens?

   One thing that sometimes helps me is to remember that the condemnation of others is not the condemnation of God's. Yet, all of us are stuck in a society that offers both blessings and curses and we worry about what others think of us and say to us.

   At its best, society, and the rules of organizations, can preserve safety and fairness - safety for us to pursue our dreams, fairness so that the powerful do not take advantage of the weak.

   At its worst, society can operate with more brutality than did primitive humans.

   It's so often hard to recall that we "thicken" and enrich our souls by what we give, not by what is taken from us. We never need to give away to any other person or any other organization power over our souls.

   Still, I have seen so many sell their souls to keep their jobs. Sadly, we have all seen those who punish and attack others not because it's fair but because they have been "ordered" to punish.

   Why is the admitting clerk at the entrance to the ER so often rude to the suffering patient that stands before her? Why do some nurses refuse to answer the call lights of patients that are "cranky" and argumentative? Why are so many executives so insensitive to the needs of first line caregivers?

   Not a single one of these would acknowledge meanness. Each would describe themselves as loving. All would use the excuse that they are "simply human."

   We may be human. But, there is nothing simple about it. Our souls truly do need enrichment and refreshment. Love cannot redeem us unless we live it, unless we love those who suffer in hospitals and live the punishment of imprisonment or who live in abusive environments.

   What a hard thing it is to Love. How soul-thickening.

-Reverend Erie Chapman