Sometimes just showing up and being present is all it takes…

I hear the voice page, “Chaplain on call…4 east please.” I know what that means. There has been a death. I have no idea what to expect, what to say, how to feel. I am very nervous. What if they ask questions I can’t answer? What will I do? Why did I ever sign up for this?

I find the room and knock lightly almost hoping that they will not hear. “Come in,” says a woman’s voice. I glance at the hospital bed and see an African American man perhaps 40 years old lying peacefully in his bed as if asleep. Next to the bed are two woman. Before I can open my mouth one of them says, “Doesn’t he look peaceful?” The other adds, “His suffering is over.” Then the first says, “It is so good to see him like this, thank God that he is at rest and with Jesus.”

I take a deep breath and sigh. My first death call as a chaplain and the ministering that I wondered how I would accomplish in my fear-based weakness and uncertainty is done by the two angels, sisters of the man who has died, and all I have to do is show up. We hold hands and say a prayer with mostly the sisters talking…and I walk out of that room a changed man.

My footsteps are quite a bit lighter as I walk back to the break room where I will await the next call feeling much better about myself. “I can survive this,” I say to myself.

Suddenly a door opens and a frantic man with tears in his eyes shouts, “Father, my wife just died. Please say the Hail Mary with us, please!” This poor man thinks I am a priest because of my black shirt and clergy collar.

I begin to stammer something about being Lutheran but the words refuse to come out, as he grabs my arm and fairly pulls me into the room. The entire obviously close-knit Italian family circles the woman’s bed. “She died of cancer, Father. I love her so much. Thankfully we were able to take a vacation together. It was our last.” He gently strokes her forehead and I notice that the kerchief on her head masks the fact that her hair is gone. He kisses her and says tearfully, “Father, please say the Hail Mary for us.” And with those words he and everyone in the room falls on one knee and makes the sign of the cross.

During a moment of silence which seems like an hour to me I ponder how to tell this grieving family that I have no idea what the words of that sacred Catholic prayer are. Suddenly I am jolted back to reality by the sound of many voices saying, “Hail Mary, Full of Grace, Our Lord is with thee.”

By now I too am on my knee and mouthing the words along with the family. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”

There is a palpable energy in that room that embraces us like a warm blanket and I am very moved by what I feel. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen. ”

What a wonderful thing is the Holy Spirit that we bear witness to. Indeed, I have personally experienced the words of St. Paul in 2 Corinthians 12:9: “he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’” When fear begins to grip your heart, uncertainty nags at you, fall safely into the arms of God believing the promise that caused Paul to utter the oh so truthful words rendered above.

As we journey through this reflective and introspective season of Lent…let’s take time to say, as I have, Thank you Mary!

Pastor Kinens, and Aina