"So what are you doing here?" The role of the minister of the gospel in hospital visitation, or a theological cure for the crisis in evangelical pastoral care

Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society, Sep 2003 by Milton, Michael A

Chaplain: "So how do feel about being here."

Patient: "I am ready to go home, I guess. But, I know my old ticker needs a little repair, so I'm just trusting in the Lord."

Chaplain: "So, you're feeling isolated."

Patient: "Actually, my wife comes and goes. I think I'm fine."

Chaplain: "How do you feel about being out of control at this time in your life?"

You can see what was happening. The chaplain, using Rogerian therapeutic techniques, engaged the patient, with the apparent hopes of guiding the patient to get in touch with his feelings. Now, there is something commendable in all of this-as it touches upon empathy and an incarnational approach to the visitation. However, particularly in the case of a believer, this approach is entirely insufficient and unsatisfactory to the patient. They expect an ambassador of Jesus Christ, not a therapist. They crave, as he related to me, a minister of the gospel to speak the comfortable words of Scripture, to inquire as to the work of the Spirit in his soul, and to perhaps lead him in prayer.

b. Medical expert. Another assumed false identity for the pastor is medical expert. John Wesley, of course, along with many of the Methodist preachers, was instructed in and practiced a sort of lay medicine in his day. Doctor Martin-Lloyd Jones was a trained surgeon from St. Bartholomew's in London before surrendering to a call to preach. But, apart from these unusual instances-one historical and probably unlikely to be necessary again and the other a unique vocational path-the rest of us should stay clear of offering medical advice in hospitals. In training ministers and observing them in clinical settings, as well as in my own experiences on visitations, I can testify to the tendency to spend valuable moments on the visitation of the sick and dying in questioning the parishioner on their ills, diagnosing their symptoms, and this most common malady, to offer received wisdom on the various medical devices in the room. It usually goes like this:

Minister: "How are you doing?"

Patient: "Well, they got me hooked up to these tubes. I don't know what they are."

[At this point, the minister could empathize with the patient over the need to surrender our lives to God in such time, or to thank God for the blessings we don't even understand. Or, the minister could proceed to be a medical expert.]

Minister: "Well, let me see. I've been on many pastoral visits, you know. [He puts his glasses on, bends over to investigate the device.] I've practically lived in hospitals for the past twenty years. I know all about these contraptions. Yes, that's what I thought . . ."

At that, the Minister, then assuming the role of medical expert based on years of observation, offers his advice and counsel-not on the ways of God and man-but on medical technology. The problem with falsely assumed identities is not just a sort of professional malfeasance, which is resented by the real professionals, but, once more, the sacrifice of valuable pastoral opportunity to present the gospel, apply the gospel, and bring the healing which only the gospel can appropriate.