Mark VIII: Strengthening Inter- and Intra-Personal Assets
“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one God, one faith, one baptism.” Ephesians 4:2-5
Every pilgrimage eventually reaches a place where there is nowhere left to hide.
No accomplishments.
No titles.
No sermons.
No roles.
Only the person standing before God.
For me, this has become the deepest work of ministry.
When I first entered Clinical Pastoral Education, I believed I was learning how to care for others.
I quickly discovered that God was teaching me how to know myself.
The patients became my teachers.
My peers became mirrors.
My supervisors became companions.
Again and again, they invited me to notice not only what I was doing but who I was becoming.
There is a profound difference.
Early in my ministry, I often believed that competency alone created pastoral authority.
If I learned enough theology…
If I developed enough clinical skill…
If I had the right words…
Then perhaps I would become the minister people needed.
CPE quietly dismantled that illusion.
I discovered that people are rarely transformed by our expertise alone.
They are transformed by our authenticity.
By our willingness to remain present.
By our capacity to acknowledge uncertainty.
By the integrity with which we live what we proclaim.
One afternoon, my supervisor gently observed that my fear of inadequacy might be experienced by patients as distance.
That simple observation became one of the most significant moments of my formation.
I realized that ministry is not simply shaped by what I intend.
It is shaped by who I am becoming.
From that day forward, I began paying closer attention to my assumptions, my fears, my projections, and the ways they influenced my presence with others.
This inner work has become an ongoing spiritual practice.
Not because I seek perfection.
Because I seek freedom.
Freedom to meet each person without unnecessary judgment.
Freedom to listen more deeply than I speak.
Freedom to remain open to the surprising work of the Holy Spirit.
The United Church of Christ understands ministry as covenantal accountability.
That language has become increasingly meaningful to me.
For many years I imagined accountability primarily as correction.
Today I understand it as relationship.
I am accountable because I belong.
To Christ.
To the Church.
To colleagues.
To patients.
To communities who continually shape me into a more faithful minister.
This understanding has profoundly influenced my moral life.
Integrity is no longer simply avoiding wrongdoing.
Integrity means becoming increasingly integrated.
Allowing my private life, my public ministry, my theology, my relationships, and my deepest convictions to tell the same story.
That work continues every day.
Ministry has also expanded my understanding of human development in ways no textbook could accomplish.
In a single afternoon I may accompany a frightened young adult receiving a life-changing diagnosis, parents making impossible decisions for their child, an exhausted middle-aged caregiver, and an elder reflecting on a century of memories.
Every stage of life carries unique questions.
Unique griefs.
Unique hopes.
No single pastoral approach serves every person.
Each encounter invites humility.
Listening.
Adaptability.
Communication.
Above all, presence.
Communication itself has become one of the most sacred disciplines of my ministry.
Words matter.
Silence matters.
Music matters.
Poetry matters.
A gentle touch on a shoulder.
A shared laugh.
A carefully timed question.
A prayer offered only after permission has been given.
All of these become languages of pastoral care.
Perhaps the greatest lesson I have learned is that excellent communication begins not with speaking but with listening.
To patients.
To families.
To colleagues.
To Scripture.
To silence.
To the Holy Spirit.
To my own heart.
The deeper I listen, the more faithfully I am able to respond.
St. Teresa of Ávila writes that the deepest room of the Interior Castle is not a place of achievement but of union with God.
That image has become one of the most meaningful companions of my ministry.
The deeper I journey inward, the more naturally my life begins to flow outward in compassion.
Authentic ministry is never self-expression alone.
Nor is it self-denial.
It is self-offering.
As I continue toward ordination in the United Church of Christ, I do so knowing that this journey is far from complete.
I remain a student.
A pilgrim.
A chaplain continually being formed by patients, colleagues, the Church, Scripture, worship, and the quiet work of the Holy Spirit.
Perhaps that is the greatest gift of this pilgrimage.
Not that I have finally arrived.
But that I have learned to trust the One who continues walking beside me.