Juliet: “‘Tis But Thy Name That Is My Enemy”

Family members with a loved one on hospice are usually astounded when I tell them that most families decline my offer to visit or even phone them. I’d say about 20% of new patients and/or families on a “good” day think of me as more of a help than a hindrance.

One of the dilemmas about speaking with people in crisis is that they cannot take in very much new information, so my “elevator pitch” about the value of seeing a chaplain has to be as short as going from one floor to the very next before my time is up. If I am lucky, aside from saying that I am a chaplain, I may add something like, “I’m here to talk about anything you want; I won’t preach at you or anything like that. I’m just here to listen.”

The complicating factor during these cold calls is the word “chaplain” itself. On the face of it, it seems good shorthand for “spiritual support,” “comfort” and the like, but it bears a back-breaking load of negative associations as well. Like an off putting smell, it drives away anyone who has had hurtful experiences with clergy and houses of worship. Some people have had oppressive religious instruction that teaches fear and the need for unquestioning obedience. Some people have heard possibly well-intended but phony sounding bromides from clergy in times of trouble, or were not contacted by clergy at all. Others have faced aggressive efforts to be converted.

Another issue with the word “chaplain” is that for many non-Christian or atheist patients, it somehow has a Christian connotation. In that case, I emphasize my last name which signals “Jewish” to some, but woe to the Buddhist, Moslem, Hindu Jewish chaplains, etc. whose last name does not drop a hint. This is even harder for Christian chaplains, who stand ready to serve all religions as well as those patients with no religion, because professionally trained chaplains are there to address broad spiritual issues, not specific religious ones unless requested to do so.

What to do? The alternatives to the word “chaplain” are even less agreeable. In one of my hospice positions, my title was “spiritual care coordinator,” and my supervisor asked me to introduce myself thus. I rebelled, as most people would not understand what that was, and even if they did, it would come off as cold. I think that phrase suggests bureaucracy and distance, not personalized comfort. Even more galling is “spiritual care provider.”  I have one word for that: “yuck.” If you have any felicitous suggestions for alternatives, I will share them with one and all, especially my fellow chaplains.

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Announcement: After decades of dancing and appearing in formative roles in such TV productions that included Perry Como, Aura Levitas has made her print debut January in the realm of poetry.  Part of one poem reads, “”An art book lay on the table…./It was a masterpiece of a sunny day…/Even my walker joined the feeling/of art appreciation in its movement.” You can find information on her nostalgic book at http://amzn.to/1eqWoMy