Notes from the Field
December 8, 2008
Ministry at the hospital continues mostly unchanged. I am still privileged to go onto units – mostly locked units – to provide spiritual care to the patients of the Eleanor Slater Hospital, most of whom stay with us for a year or more, and many for several years. New admissions occur regularly, but they comprise a tiny portion of our population; in other words, I have known most of the patients for some time. It is a congregation of sorts, though with membership not necessarily voluntary and with religious and spiritual diversity even greater than the average Unitarian Universalist congregation. I am deeply moved by the longing I find in the persons I serve—longing, in most cases, to get out of the hospital (which feels to many like a prison sentence, tragically), and, in a deeper sense, longing to become more fully who each person really is, to live into her/his potential and truth. Though I can sense each person’s longing and share a desire for concrete change, I have to reckon with my own inability to make the situation better. Instead, paradoxically, by working to really get it, to get a glimpse of what it’s like to be in each patient’s shoes at that moment, I can be, at best, a way station of support, a touchstone of humanity (alongside other staff and patients who serve this need), on that person’s ongoing journey.
One change in my hospital ministry is that I have decreased my weekly hours from 40 to 32 in order to make space for my emerging focus on my music career, which is outside of the sphere of my ministerial identity. This is a very fulfilling and much needed shift.
Finally, life as a new father is a daily miracle and gift, involving a very significant daily (and nightly!) commitment of time, energy and heart space. Though Stacy and I sometimes struggle to get out of bed, we feel blessed to be knowing and caring for Ren, and to be her parents in all the world. I am very grateful for the support that so many of you in the Bell Street community have given and continue to give, and I always love when I am able to bring Ren to church to see you all.
In this season of giving, may we remember that the most valuable gifts—whether to people we know and love, or to people we meet on the street—are those that cannot be bought, cannot even be weighed or measured, except by the heart.
~Rev. Ben Hall, Community Minister
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