Pastoral learning at Bellevue Hospital

Christian Century, August 30, 2000 by Chloe Breyer

"Oh, I think it's great that some people believe in religion," Adam says airily. "I respect it very much. It's just that I don't think God exists for me. I don't know very much about it. If push came to shove I think there's about a 50-50 chance that God exists--so probably I do believe.

But, I've told you already, religion doesn't interest me that much. I enjoy talking about other things."

I ignore the hint and keep probing. "So you don't care if I pray for you or not?"

Slightly exasperated, Adam says, "You should pray for people without money, without any kind of education. Pray for those who get trampled by the world and don't know to push back. They need your prayers. Me, I know how to push back a little bit. I know how to get things done. I've learned how to say `no' or `not right now,' or `no thank you very much' or just `NO.' It works."

I back off. Has Adam imagined the first thing he'll do when he leaves the hospital?

"I'm going to have a huge party and invite all my friends and everyone who helped me to recover," Adam replies drily, looking past me out the window.

On the way to the elevator, I feel ambivalent. It does not occur to me that Adam was egging me on. I cannot let his comment go by just as the elevator door opens, I resolve to confront Adam right away. I turn back and knock on his door.

"Adam, I just thought I should let you know that I've thought about what you said about throwing a party, and it upsets me a little bit. I mean, isn't that how you ended up coming here?"

The minute the words come out, I want to swallow them whole.

His back to me, Adam bursts out angrily, "I told you in the most diplomatic way I could that I did not want to talk about the accident. I don't know what happened to me that night, and I'm not going to discuss it till I get better physically and am at home and will seek expert advice. I can take care of myself, thank you very much, and technically this is none of your business. You are out of your league. Good-bye."

It turned out I did not destroy the fragile trust between Adam and me. I summoned the courage to return, he accepted my apology, and our usual conversation began. He complained that the nurses were unsympathetic when he insisted that visiting family was more important than "spending another half hour jumping around on a pogo stick in rehab." I manage a smile when he jokes about his "infamous welcome-home party" and invites me to attend with an oxygen mask and a stretcher, since I worry so much about his health. We remain on good terms until I leave Bellevue.

I am disappointed and alarmed that I did not resist the impulse to preach at him. By the time I bring it up with my CPE group, I anticipate Chaplain Joseph's suggestion to hesitate before "rushing in where angels fear to tread." I know the answer to his question about whether my wish to hear Adam confess dark doubts had more to do with Adam's need or mine. But how could I--so proud of my open-mindedness and ability to embrace diversity--be perceived as "pushing the religion stuff a little too strongly," as Adam scoffed. I had indeed "rushed in" to the life of someone who was perhaps spiritually wounded, but also perhaps mentally ill beyond my powers to assist. I thought I understood the concept of pastoral engagement in moral questions, but clearly not well enough to put it into effect.