Rev’d Hiliary Reddrop
Matthew 25:31-45
Thank you, Peter, for giving me this opportunity to speak about my ministry, a ministry that is a privilege to engage in, hospital chaplaincy.
May was set aside in the diocese a few years ago to celebrate and give thanks for the ministries of hospital, Anglicare, welfare and community chaplains. This year all chaplains, including school chaplains, have joined together to celebrate our ministries. During the month some of us are talking about chaplaincy in parishes across the diocese.
I am one of the chaplains in the Southern Adelaide Local Health Network, commonly known as SAHLN. SALHN covers the Flinders Medical Centre, Noarlunga Hospital, the Repat Health Precinct and Jamie Larcombe, the mental health unit for veterans and first responders. I’m based at Flinders. In SALHN the Chaplaincy team works on a ward basis. My wards are Laurel Hospice and the Older Persons Mental Health Unit. When an Anglican chaplain is requested across the hospital, I visit these patients. I also respond to requests to visit from across the hospital when I’m on call.
Team members are known as Spiritual Care Chaplains, offering more than religious care. When I introduce myself to patients, with the greeting Hello I’m Hilary. I’m from Spiritual Care, many people respond with, I’m not religious, I’m not spiritual, I don’t go to church, or something similar. Some are surprised and others sceptical when I say, I haven’t come to visit you to talk about religion, and allow conversation to flow from there. A few do understand that spirituality is more than belief in a deity.
Spirituality, simply put, is about what gives us meaning and purpose in life, the reason for getting up in the morning, what motivates us into action, our values and our hope. Some people I meet will say they believe in something but are unable to express it in words. For others they believe in God in their own personal way but don’t go to church. Others tell me that their family and pets, their various activities such as walking on the beach or in the bush, gardening, craft work or tinkering in the shed are what gives them purpose in life. The majority of people we visit do not have a faith tradition, some describe themselves as lapsed but our ministry is not to separate the sheep from the goats, we are available to all patients, their family, carers, friends and all staff.
Chaplaincy is about relationship. We go to people who don’t know us, nor we know them, and somehow we build a relationship of trust often in a very short space of time. We are often told things that have been long forgotten, deep hurts from the past or perhaps more recent hurts, things they’ve never shared before with anyone. For all who we interact with we are the hands of Christ, at the bedside, in the corridor, and occasionally in the Chapel. Our main role is to listen, to deeply listen to what is being said, and unsaid, observing what is happening for the person as they talk to us, as they share their needs, their life stories, their joys and sadnesses, their fears, their determination, their hope.
My ministry in the Hospice brings me alongside people with a life limiting illness, approaching the end of their life, which could be months, weeks, days or hours away. They are receiving palliative care. Their big questions may be, Why me? What have I done with my life? What do I do with my life now? Or they may express sadness, I don’t want to leave my family. Elderly patients are often worried about their partner, How will they manage when I’ve gone, I’ve always done everything. Another question might be, What’s going to happen now? That question might mean what’s going to happen right now or for those who are imminently dying, what is after death. Some of these questions and thoughts are no different for patients in other wards. They may have been in an accident or have an illness that has changed their quality of life. What will I be able to do? What work will I be able to do? I’m going to be a burden.
Do chaplains have the answers to any of these questions? We might have some answers, but we’re there to listen. We can guide the conversation to help the patient think things through and allow the patient to come to their own conclusions, but it’s not our role to give direct answers, especially if they are asking about their illness and treatment. We are not allowed to give medical advice. What has your dr told you? Have you asked your nurse? are questions I put to the patient. Or I might suggest they ask to see the social worker if that is more appropriate.
Chaplains are not allowed to proselytise. If a patient asks questions about faith matters we can talk about religion in general terms, but only in direct response to their conversation. We can’t disagree with their theology or try to change their beliefs or thoughts. We are there to support them, not add to their anxiety or vulnerability. If I’m asked a direct question about faith I try and reflect it back to them, I’m interested in hearing what you think. Occasionally I will be challenged and asked about my belief in the nature of God. That’s when I tread very carefully and don’t disagree or agree with their theology even if it is different from mine! Some push back and ask very direct questions, especially about a God of judgement. I simply say in many situations that I believe in a loving God, adding more to that according to what lead up to me saying that.
Recently in the hospice I was asked to visit a patient in her 90’s who had asked for a visit as she was frightened about dying. I’d learned prior to visiting her that she believed in God. I visited her and she told me quite a lot about her life. After a while I asked her what she had hoped for from a visit from Spiritual Care. She was unable to give me an answer. She wanted me to visit again. At this visit as I thought our time together was coming to an end she said, I have a question. I thought here is her reason for wanting visits. What will happen after? What will it be like? I want peace. I’m a firm believer in the action of the Holy Spirit as I often find appropriate words coming out of my mouth and I have no idea where the words have come from. Into my head came the words of John’s Gospel, and I said, In John’s Gospel we are told ‘In my Father’s house there are many mansions. May be some of these mansions are for people who want peace and other mansions are for people who want to sing with the angels and the archangels. We don’t know what it will be like, but we will be with God in a better place. Your place may be one of peace. We have our hope and our trust in God. It satisfied her. I visited her a couple more times before she was discharged back home and nothing more was mentioned about dying except she told me she wanted me to visit her on her next admission because that would be her last admission.
Some patients spend weeks, sometimes months, in hospital. These are the metaphorical prisoners we visit, trapped in a bed, some attached to medical equipment, others just not healing due to their illness or their age, perhaps recovering slowly in rehab. They might hunger and thirst for some company. Staff often ask us to go and visit these patients. We have the time to be at the bedside, to be present and listen. We aren’t under the time pressure other staff are under. We might stay only minutes, or it may be an hour or more. Some visits are just one-off visits while others may go on over a matter of weeks. One of the privileges I have of being in the Hospice is getting to know some patients, their family and friends, spending time with them listening to their life stories. Families or friends can’t always be present all the time. I visit sleeping or unresponsive patients if they are on their own. If I haven’t met the patient or family, I don’t presume they will want me to be present. I stand by the bedside and pray silently for a few minutes. For those I’ve spent time with I’ll sit with them in silent prayer or pray aloud if I’ve gained their permission to pray with them on a previous visit. On Friday I went to a patient who was unresponsive and actively dying. She has no next of kin. I stood beside her and introduced myself and told her I’d been asked to visit her. She had a beautiful crocheted blanket on her bed. These blankets are given to patients who are end of life, in the hospice it’s a quilt. I described the blanket to the patient. A couple of nurses came and attended to her and after they left, I told her that I was going to pray for her and hoped that was alright. Usually I ask permission to touch a patient while I pray but she couldn’t give permission so I didn’t touch her. Most people don’t refuse but some don’t want to be touched.
Recently I have had nurses in the Older Persons Mental Health Unit tell me on different occasions that when Spiritual Care has visited the patients are calmer, more peaceful, which makes it easier for them. What a gift, to be told you make a difference and to know the difference is not just for the patient but for the staff as well. Very humbling.
I’m fortunate that I am part of a supportive team. We listen to each other and encourage each other to care for ourselves when we know we’ve reached our limit for the day.
I know, like me, my fellow chaplains within SALHN, and across the diocese, feel so privileged to be involved with Chaplaincy ministry, spreading God’s love to all we meet, not only in words but also in actions, prompted and guided by the Holy Spirit, to go where we need to be, often arriving at the perfect moment for the patient or their family member, or meeting a staff member who just needs to talk.
On Thursday 29th May at 4.00 pm in St Andrew’s Walkerville chaplains are gathering to celebrate our ministry. You are invited to join with all chaplains and chaplaincy volunteers in the celebration and to join us in refreshments after the service which the Archbishop and Bishop Sophie will both be taking part. Please come if you are able. Amen