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Vol. 19, No. 4
July/August 2009
Vision is published six times a year by the
National Association of Catholic Chaplains.
Its purpose is to connect our members with
each other and with the governance of the
Association. Vision informs and educates
our membership about issues in pastoral/
spiritual care and helps chart directions for
the future of the profession, as well as the
Association.
ISSN: 1527-2370
Executive Editor
David A. Lichter, D.Min.
Editor
Laurie Hansen Cardona
lcardona@nacc.org
Graphic Designer
Gina Rupcic
The National Association of Catholic
Chaplains advocates for the profession of
spiritual care and educates, certifies, and
supports chaplains, clinical pastoral
educators and all members who continue
the healing ministry of Jesus in the name of
the Church.
NACC Editorial Advisory Panel:
Sr. Michele LeDoux Sakurai; Michelle Lemiesz; Linda
Piotrowski; Rev. Freddy Washington, CSSp;
and board representative Norma Gutierrez,
MCDP.
NACC National Office
4915 S. Howell Avenue Suite 501
Milwaukee, WI 53207-5939
(414) 483-4898
Fax: (414) 483-6712
info@nacc.org
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Every Sunday afternoon at 4:15, I preside over a communion service in the assisted living area of the infirmary at the psychiatric prison hospital where I work as a Catholic chaplain. I provide the music (through a CD player), Scripture readings (though prayer books), Communion (bread that has been consecrated/blessed by a priest) and, on occasion, something to make the day special (i.e., donated Bibles or a decoration like an Easter Lily or Poinsettia). The men who live there provide the genuine encounter of God.
Anywhere between 10 and 16 of us sit in a circle. We open with song and, boy, do we sing. The men chose the songs – “Old Rugged Cross,” “Amazing Grace,” “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” “Rock of Ages” and a few more. The men have their favorites and like to stick to the same few songs. An inmate-worker, a man who has transferred from another prison to work at the hospital, volunteers his time to be part of the community. He attends to the music and helps the men follow along with the service.
The men are all seriously mentally ill. Most suffer from dementia as well as mental illness. I imagine some also have a degree of mental retardation. To me, they are angels – God’s angels. They minister to me. They accept my love and they love me in return. They create a very special place for my heart to be nourished and renewed every single week. To me, they are near-perfect expressions of God’s love.
Last Sunday was a typical service. I begin by asking for volunteers to do readings. As usual, there were more volunteers than readings. Peter expressed his hurt feelings and closed his eyes, as if to punish me by going away. When the music started, he put aside his disappointment and heartily joined in the singing.
The readers are often difficult to understand and many have trouble pronouncing long or uncommon words. Last Sunday was much like any other Sunday. The inmate-worker helped the men with their readings as graciously as he could. Then I read the Gospel story of the workers and the vineyard. I wanted to communicate the idea, drawn from the story, that we should not be resentful of other people’s good fortune. Several of the men have trouble listening quietly. As a group, they are far more tolerant of interruptions than any other group I spend time with, but I, on the other hand, often lose my train of thought. With time and great effort, I am slowly getting better. I made my point as best I could. I think one or two of the quieter men got the basic idea.
Then we did some praying and singing and we shook each other’s hands as a sign of peace. Then it was time for Communion. I walked from man to man around the circle and placed the Communion host on each person’s hand or in his mouth. As I was doing this, one of the men went around the circle behind me, passing out individually wrapped pieces of peppermint candy that he had bought with his very limited funds from the prison canteen.
My first reaction was to think that this was inappropriate. In this solemn moment, I could only see the importance of the sacred Communion hosts, the Body of Christ. Fortunately, before I said anything stupid, I saw that this man was also sharing something sacred and precious. Like the widow who gave her last coins, this man was giving a lovely gift born of his poverty and love. One member of the congregation very thoughtfully held my piece of candy aside until I was finished giving out Communion.
In a prison setting, the corrections officers can seem gruff and detached. On this unit, I often see the softer side of the officers. They routinely encourage the men to go to church. When they have to interrupt, they are always as respectful about it as they can possibly be. It is a setting where the officers are able to let their humanity show despite the difficult demands of their job. In response, the men regularly pray for the officers, showing genuine concern for their well-being. What a wonderful island of love God has provided us in the middle of the often turbulent ocean of prison life.
Peg Newman is a prison chaplain for the Massachusetts Department of Corrections. She currently divides her time between Bridgewater State Hospital and Massachusetts Alcohol and Substance Abuse Center in southeastern Massachusetts. She also works, every other weekend, as a per diem chaplain at Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston. peg_newman(AT)msn.com