Pastoral Placements 1
In this article one of the students for the priesthood from our diocese describes his Pastoral Placement and gives a glimpse into the work of a Hospital Chaplaincy.
I distinctly remember my reply when asked during my selection process if there were any types of ministry I would not look forward to: “I don’t think I’d be much use in hospitals because I’m too squeamish”.
Knowing a little of how the Church, and our vocation director’s perverse sense of humour works, I was not at all surprised to find myself assigned this summer to help Fr. Michael Corbett, who is chaplain to all of Newcastle’s hospitals and I admit there was a certain sense of dread about the whole thing.
This sense was not lessened by the quagmire of forms, clearances and medical tests we wandered into long before I could even get started. Finally, however, the goal was achieved, and in something of an anticlimax, I was presented with an identity card; I was now free to roam. Roaming is, I think, one of the best descriptions of being a hospital chaplain: wandering around the wards, trying to track down Catholic patients or those who have asked to see you, waving and smiling at hard pressed staff, stopping at a bedside for a quick chat, popping by to see relatives or checking on progress; trying, in fact, just to be a visible sign of Christ’s presence.
Fr. Michael makes it look effortless but I can tell you it is hard work, especially on the feet and if I’ve learnt nothing else this summer I now know just how far it is from one end of the RVI to the other.
Inevitably in all this wandering you do meet disinterest, disdain and incomprehension, from patients and also from staff - however not as much as you might expect, or from the people you might expect to receive it from. I had a senior consultant (and retinue) apologise for disturbing one of my visits and met a recently released young offender desperate to get a new rosary. On the whole I found staff helpful, even appreciative and I received more than one request from them for prayers for themselves, patients or friends.
Those patients or families who did want to see a chaplain were enormously grateful even for just a quick visit as I was passing through; what seemed so little on my part meant a great deal to them, indeed it seemed the less that could be done medically the more grateful they were to see you.
I was also privileged to take Holy Communion to the hospitals on Sundays and at other times and I have never seen such desire for the Blessed Sacrament or it received with more devotion than whilst I was kneeling next to some bedsides.
It is inevitably though a transitory ministry, patients are in and out again constantly, so much so that it is hard to keep up and there is sometimes a sense of loss when somebody, particularly one of the many “characters”, suddenly vanishes from the wards, even if you know that they have in fact recovered enough to go home, pleased for them as you are.
Inevitably too there are those who don’t or won’t recover. That too is very hard, particularly when those involved are young with their whole lives ahead of them. I was very lucky in that Fr. Michael looked after most of those cases himself. Suffering and death are indeed an integral though mysterious part of God’s plan and over the summer I saw them faced with acceptance and deep faith, which at times literally put me to shame.
I am very grateful to Fr. Michael, Bernie and the other chaplains for all their help and guidance, to the people of St. Andrew’s Parish for their prayers and friendship while I was based there with them, and most of all to the staff, patients and families whom I came across. More than anyone else they taught me not to dread hospitals but to see them as places where Christ really is present and at work.